by TYLYN

Hmm… Well…

Once upon a time, yes, a very long time ago, just a couple of days ago, in fact, a new kid arrived at my school. He’s really quiet, silent, even, and stays to himself in the back of the room, always looking down.

And so, I decided to talk to him yesterday evening, in the school library, which was usually empty save for me. Walking up to him, I could see that he was kinda focused on some class assignment, his light brown hair in a neat little bun at the back of his skull. I tapped him on the shoulder.

Nothing happened.

“Hey man, what’s up?” I said as I offered a handshake to him.

Maybe he isn’t all that touchy-feely like most of my friends? I wondered, withdrawing my hand. Just when I was about to turn away, his hand lunged at mine, gripping it…

In the most fragile way possible.

It was like as if he was scared to even touch me, as if just my presence would shatter the entirety of his existence. It was kinda adorable, in a really pitiful way. Slowly, gently shaking hands, I grabbed a chair from the table behind me with my other hand and pulled it up.

“What’s your name, new kid?” I asked as I took a seat. He pulled out a blank sheet of paper and wrote something down.

Kuro.

“Wait, so your name means ‘black’ in Japanese?” He just scribbled the same thing down over and over again.

Kuro. Kuro. Kuro. Kuro. Kuro. Kuro. Kuro. Kuro. Kuro.

The speed at which the kid wrote left the page a void of dark ink, even though it was white, like, literally two seconds ago.

Then, I felt something prod my back. And in my peripheral vision, I promise to god that this is true, I saw something long and furry. I almost squealed.

I carefully, very carefully, turned around, and saw a tail, just there. I whipped my head right back towards the kid and asked him, as calmly as I could, a simple question.

“Do you see that?” In that moment of strained speaking, I realized that I had never seen his face before, even though there was nothing to hide it. After what felt like years draining from my life, he finally looked up, at me.

And I swear to all that is holy and divine that the dude’s eyes were pure black. I’m not talking about dilated pupils, just a black hole of darkness and despair and the unholiest of things. Even a crow would’ve paled at those eyes. All of the color in my face, and the blood in my body, drained right outta me.

I got up, snatched my things, and shot out of that library as fast as humanly possible. Through empty, abandoned hallways and down creaky staircases, I ran. It was a blessing that I got to the busses just in time to get on and go home.

Sitting on the bus, looking out the window, darkness encroaches on the border of my vision. I feel like as if my paranoia is returning. It’s one thing to think you’re seeing or hearing things in the dark of night, but it’s something worse when it’s happening in the daytime, under the light of the sun. I feel myself begin to relax as realization strikes. I don’t have any reasn to be so afraid anymore! Everything is fine.

Feel kinda bad about runnin’ off on that kid, probably scared him.

I stepped off the bus and wished the driver a wonderful evening. She bid me stay safe. Same old, same old. The sky was still blue, the smell of oncoming rain in the air, life going on as usual…

I think I lost a bit of my soul back there. Even now, some part of me is missing. I had honestly figured that the bus would seem me home safely, despite the darkness that was encroaching on my vision. But that’s just paranoia, right?

The kid walked out from behind me, and just stood there. Time came to a stop, and I knew it. I was stuck, dead. His tail was wrapped around my body, trapping my arms, running was pointless, and my voice had constricted itself in my throat. I looked him dead in the eye, intending to at least die like I’m strong. His lips began to move.

“I know that you wish to know what I am. Clearly, I’m a black-eyed being, but nothing that should matter to you.” The whisper, that bone-shivering, hope-killing sound, was accompanied by this low rumbling that had affected only me. And with that, he grinned, showing dagger-like teeth stained by blood. I was yanked into him, and nothing, and I do mean nothing, could ever rival the muted scream of someone having their life snatched from them, without understanding. Nothing went black, nor white. Just… Gray.

But now, at least the pain and suffering is gone, physically-speaking. The only thing that sucks is that nobody ever even noticed my demise, not even the people that I had come to know and love. It was as if my entire story had been erased from the world’s memory, leaving me in this hellish purgatory where all I can do is watch, quietly shedding tears.

And the craziest thing, I don’t even know where my body is, or how I really died.

by TYLYN

Walk with me, my dear, into my mind’s home. As you can see from the petals scattered all over my driveway and yard, my home is the home of a number of humble sakura trees, bare, yet beautiful. Likewise, the clean bonsai serve as a sense of order outside of my mind’s home, the constantly trimmed branches a simplicity in this abode. Stepping into the now-open garage, the layer of dust almost makes you wanna sneeze just looking at it, the handmade shelves and cluttered pieces are clear attempts at true workmanship, despite the pieces’ pitiful appearances.

Taking a quick left into my kitchen, through the doorway, of course, we’re greeted by a buffet, the area littered with flowery red umbrellas, silky to the touch. There’s also the existence of the shoji screens, casting candlelight shadows that sort of set an ominous tone. But the wondrous smells of fried shrimp tempura alongside soothing dark chocolate fosters a sense of peace.

Follow me as we head downstairs, into my favorite place to be, the basement. Now, that might sound strange and creepy, but do hear me out. Let me flick on the lights (Click), ah, that’s much better. This is where my library is. Now, these books aren’t simply your typical novels or nonfiction works. Many of them are actually the stories of the people I’ve come to know in this life, then and now. In fact, my own tales and memories are being formed in that book right over there. I just don’t know how it works.

The other set of stairs, yes, the winding ones, leads up to my bedroom. I tried to décor it so that a simple elegance was maintained, evidenced by my use of scarlet with ivory accents in order to attain that. The yellow, aging scrolls hanging on the walls are my ambitions as a writer. Unfortunately, I remain unsure of where I am truly headed, but that leaves me flexible. So in the meantime, let’s get on with the rest of this tour!

A glance to your right reveals an obsidian bathroom, outlined with gold. Don’t mind the mirrors, just a bit of vanity is all. But they also say that the mirror is the window to the soul… Or was that the eyes? Probably the eyes… Anywho, speaking of mirrors, let’s go to the living room. The part of the all-glass wall is actually the entrance to the backyard, so everything works out there. With such openness, I can watch the young ones play, comforted by the knowledge that their safety can be maintained. I didn’t forget to fence in the backyard, either.

Of course, there’s always the problem of the glass being shattered, but that’s fine. And the whole privacy thing isn’t an issue, since this is the social space. If I wanted to have some privacy, I’d go to my room, since that’s understood to be my little “vacation” place. And I’ll let you in on one last secret, in case you didn’t see, or weren’t sure.

All of my trash cans are hidden by the shadows in the abode of my home. That’s because they’re filled with the fears and insecurities that sometimes plague my mind. I just throw’em away, so that I can keep this ship running smoothly. I’m no optimist, but how else am I gonna be able to help others if I can’t deal with my own troubles? Simply cleaning it up is all I can really do.

I think that’s it for the tour of my mind’s estate, for the most part. Do enjoy the rest of your day, and make sure to visit from time to time!