Mind Games (FIRST DRAFT)
Mei

The air is cold and misty, and my flesh burns with the freeze.

The air wrapped itself around my sore bones, begging to be let in. I refuse, of course, since my body heat is not even enough for one. My arms curl around my knees, I lay in a fetal position on the black ground.

I try to look around, but I can’t see; trapped in a dark abyss. I try to call out, but my voice is silent. I sit upright, then begin to stand. My nerves scream at me to stop, that it hurts too much. Taking my first steps is the hardest, like a foal walking on stick legs.

My head aches the hardest. Putting a cool palm to my forehead relaxes the muscles, and I walk at a steady stride. I try my voice again, and it makes an empty note. My throat is dry and it’s hard to speak, yet I try anyways. “Flo?” I call out. “Mike? Mason? Ray?” No response echoes back. My eyes beg to shut, and I compromise, only to be shut for a little bit. When I reopen my eyes, white has replaces the black, making me shield my eyes from the brightness of it. “Hello?” I call out.

Now that the room is brighter, I can see some of my body a bit brighter. Where my skin once was is now transparent, with a pink outline. Now breaking into a run to look for a mirror, my bare feet slap against the cool floor. I see someone in the far away, and I run toward them. Then I realize it’s me.

Stopping a few feet away from the mirror, I examine myself. My GAP jacket and skinny jeans are replaced with a sailor boys outfit, complete with a little hat. My face isn’t the same, I can see that for sure. What had Mother said, before the darkness overtook me? I couldn’t take it, Mei. I killed my sister, stabbed her, then went on a walk with my son. He couldn’t live, I told myself, with a father so horrible. I thought I was doing good. I- I drowned him. Only after he was dead is when I realized what I had done. I killed myself, I wanted to find his soul.

His soul. This sure as hell wasn’t me, and what I appear as is a boy currently. Mother would never find her son if I was him. I needed to find someway to get out of here, to see Mother, to be reunited once more. Thoughts raced through my head. Trying to drown the out, I will myself to remember music. “Washing Machine Heart” by Mitsuki. This reminds me of one of the conversations I had with Flo before I- left. She was an avid fan of Rihanna, and met her on several occasions. I then urged myself to think of her favorite song, “S&M”.

Humming to myself, I walked alongside myself in the mirror. “’Cause I may be bad, but I’m perfectly good at it,” I sang, until I saw pictures in the far distance. I ran toward them, to see my life. Instantly memories of my life before Mother flooded my brain. I left behind a world full of great things. I didn’t leave willingly, but I still left. When I decided to get on the train that afternoon was my worst decision of my life, besides that prank one time with my brother and the shaving cream, or the one with the ice block, but that isn’t the big deal. Me being gone was the worst thing that’s happened, it’s the part in which its life-changing. Ice melts, and shaving cream can be washed away. But the mark left from the loss of a child is monumental.

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After walking for so long, past the frames filled with forgotten memories, I noticed a building in the distance. My pace picked up from a walk to a sprint, to a jog, to a run. My heart pumped, and I was out of breath by the time I got to the building. It stood out from it’s white background, electric green grass popping out of the cold ground, vibrant yellow paired with hot pink shutters. I walked up to the red door and buzzed the blue doorbell that stood next to it.

Nobody answered.

I buzzed again, then knocked, hoping somebody would hear me.

Nobody answered.

“Helloo!” I called out. I knocked and buzzed and knocked and buzzed, but still.

Nobody answered.

“That’s it,” I muttered, then tried to open the door for myself. It swung open without ease. The inside of the house was a olive green, with oak floors that were old and weathered. “Hello?” I asked, waiting for a response that no one would answer.

I walked past the kitchen, with was filled to the brim with Hello Kitty merchandise. Static came from the room at the end of the hall, it felt so close yet so far. Walking there took and eternity or a minute, I can’t remember precisely. In the living room stood a red velvet armchair facing an old, brown, box T.V.

Walking around the room, there was a shelf full of VHS tapes, with names such as, ‘F.A.E.’ and ‘M.C’. I wondered what it stood for. There were binders with labels saying ‘D Train’, ‘R Train’, ‘N Train’ and so on. Circling back to where I came from, I went to see what the owner of the house was watching.

I plopped myself in the seat, and although it took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the screen, it was soon clear to see Florence in the picture frame, and she was as big as life itself through the pixelated screen. She was speaking, words incoherent, but nonetheless. She wasn’t dead yet. Ray appeared in the frame, speaking to Flo. She seemed upset, and began to yell nonsense to Ray, who seemed set back. Where was Mike and Mason?

End of Chapter Nine.

Word Count: 1024

Character Count: ?

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