{"id":161,"date":"2016-11-26T15:12:29","date_gmt":"2016-11-26T20:12:29","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/blogs.butler.edu\/reverberations\/?p=161"},"modified":"2016-11-26T15:12:54","modified_gmt":"2016-11-26T20:12:54","slug":"a-tattletales-telling-tale","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/blogs.butler.edu\/reverberations\/2016\/11\/26\/a-tattletales-telling-tale\/","title":{"rendered":"A TATTLETALE’S TELLING TALE"},"content":{"rendered":"

by TYLYN<\/strong><\/p>\n

Hmm\u2026 Well\u2026<\/p>\n

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\u2019s really quiet, silent, even, and stays to himself in the back of the room, always looking down.<\/p>\n

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.<\/p>\n

Nothing happened.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey man, what\u2019s up?\u201d I said as I offered a handshake to him.<\/p>\n

Maybe he isn\u2019t all that touchy-feely like most of my friends?<\/em> I wondered, withdrawing my hand. Just when I was about to turn away, his hand lunged at mine, gripping it\u2026<\/p>\n

In the most fragile way possible.<\/p>\n

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.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s your name, new kid?\u201d I asked as I took a seat. He pulled out a blank sheet of paper and wrote something down.<\/p>\n

Kuro.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cWait, so your name means \u2018black\u2019 in Japanese?\u201d He just scribbled the same thing down over and over again.<\/p>\n

Kuro. Kuro. Kuro. Kuro. Kuro. Kuro. Kuro. Kuro. Kuro. <\/em><\/p>\n

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.<\/p>\n

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.<\/p>\n

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.<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you see that?\u201d 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.<\/p>\n

And I swear to all that is holy and divine that the dude\u2019s eyes were pure black. I\u2019m not talking about dilated pupils, just a black hole of darkness and despair and the unholiest of things. Even a crow would\u2019ve paled at those eyes. All of the color in my face, and the blood in my body, drained right outta me.<\/p>\n

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.<\/p>\n

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\u2019s one thing to think you\u2019re seeing or hearing things in the dark of night, but it\u2019s something worse when it\u2019s happening in the daytime, under the light of the sun. I feel myself begin to relax as realization strikes. I don\u2019t have any reasn to be so afraid anymore! Everything is fine.<\/p>\n

Feel kinda bad about runnin\u2019 off on that kid, probably scared him. <\/em><\/p>\n

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\u2026<\/p>\n

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\u2019s just paranoia, right?<\/p>\n

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\u2019m strong. His lips began to move.<\/p>\n

\u201cI know that you wish to know what I am. Clearly, I\u2019m a black-eyed being, but nothing that should matter to you.\u201d 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\u2026 Gray.<\/p>\n

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\u2019s memory, leaving me in this hellish purgatory where all I can do is watch, quietly shedding tears.<\/p>\n

And the craziest thing, I don\u2019t even know where my body is, or how I really died.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

by TYLYN<\/p>\n

Hmm\u2026 Well\u2026<\/p>\n

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\u2019s really quiet, silent, even, and stays to himself in the back of the room, always looking down.<\/p>\n

And so, I decided to talk to him […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":624,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":"","_links_to":"","_links_to_target":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[345696],"class_list":["post-161","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-tylyn"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/blogs.butler.edu\/reverberations\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/161","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/blogs.butler.edu\/reverberations\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/blogs.butler.edu\/reverberations\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/blogs.butler.edu\/reverberations\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/624"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/blogs.butler.edu\/reverberations\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=161"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/blogs.butler.edu\/reverberations\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/161\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":162,"href":"http:\/\/blogs.butler.edu\/reverberations\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/161\/revisions\/162"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/blogs.butler.edu\/reverberations\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=161"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/blogs.butler.edu\/reverberations\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=161"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/blogs.butler.edu\/reverberations\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=161"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}