Kirika

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
Kirika looks like the average girl. Exept that she isn't. She never had ambitions or the will to achieve something. She never had a boyfriend and doesn't care about it. But most of all, she never had emotions.

Submitted: August 30, 2012

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Submitted: August 30, 2012

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Kirika

Time always seems to pass faster when you’re having fun. The good times always end. Time passes slowly when you’re bored, or at least it seems that way. But in reality, time passes at the same speed at all times. The time between boredom and fun. But there’s no one that actually experiences time like this their whole life. There are always the bad moments that make you angry, the sad ones that make you cry. But there are also the good moments that make you smile again, the wonderful moments that make your heart beat faster. Everyone has these emotions, mixing themselves with time. These emotions are the reason for the time to pass at different speeds for everyone.

 

 

Time is unpredictable because of these emotions. But not for Kirika. Kirika always appeared as the average, smart, fifteen year old school girl. Her pink backpack filled with school books with plush toys on the zipper, good grades and nice clothes, everything a girl has. Except for one vital thing that she had never found. A boyfriend. It’s not that boys don’t like Kirika, she’s an attractive girl with a good pair of brains. It was more that Kirika never liked the boys. Or rather, Kirika has never even found anything close to love. Never has she liked someone or felt attracted to them. But Kirika never minded that. She didn’t care about love. She never has. Never cared about emotions. Some say that Kirika never even had a soul, for she always looked straight ahead, a blank stare in her eyes. But she never cared. She never had them. Emotions. Never was she sad or depressed, love sick or broken hearted. But neither was she cheerful or happy. She just felt no emotions. They are pathetic, you don’t need emotions in your life. If you don’t have the emotion to be happy, you don’t have to do anything to feel happy. This is how Kirika has always believed to live her life. Without love, without compassion, without happiness or anger. Without any emotion whatsoever.

 

Kirika went to school without particular reason. She never did anything for a real reason. It was just something she did. Every day she went to school at the same time, she was never late for class and always had her homework done perfectly. After school she would always immediately head homewards. Home, where her foster mother was waiting for her. She never even called her ‘mom’ or anything of the sort. Simply, because she wasn’t. She just walked straight in and called: “Tara, I’m home.” In a voice so cold, that every time Kirika came home, Tara had a cup of tea ready for her, hoping to warm her heart.

“Had a nice day at school butterfly?” she always asked her, hoping for an answer she liked to hear. But all that ever came out of Kirika was a soft humming sound as she drank her tea and walked upstairs to her room, leaving her foster mother alone. It was very hard on the poor woman to just take care of Kirika. Not moneywise, but she never gave affection. Countless times has Tara asked her what she would like for dinner, but she never really answered. She asked what she wants for tea, since she drinks that. But again, no certain answer. If she wants to go out in the weekends, but Kirika never wanted to. Though school swallowed a lot of her time, Kirika never did anything fun with friends or with Tara. Tara was a primary school teacher that also gave private lessons to children that had a hard time keeping up with their lessons. Often they’d come to their house and wanted to play with Kirika, but even this she would ignore.

 

Their most frequent visitor was Lilia, a friendly blonde girl that respected Kirika’s distant personality. Lilia had a rare disease for which she often had to be in hospital. Usually for checkups, but lately she had fallen seriously ill and had to stay in bed all day. At first she had to stay in the hospital, but she was released after a little while. As a result of this, she hadn’t been to school in weeks. Because she can’t get out of bed, Tara visited her often and tried to keep her on the same level as her classmates. At times she takes Kirika with her. Kirika didn’t mind. She never cared. All she would do anyway is just draw the things she’s seen, usually adjusting them to make them a better place. She always drew these in her silver coloured sketchbook and make side notes in them. After Tara finished her private lesson with Lilia and stated the homework, Lilia would sit next to Kirika and watch her draw for hours on end. Kirika seemed to have a talent for it. Maybe it was because she drew very often. Maybe she was a natural. Her drawings looked like photographs sometimes. Every time capturing one of the emotions she didn’t have. Her drawings were always centred around one emotion. Though she never felt them, she can recognize certain feelings, even if people hide them from her. And that will be what she will draw. Things she had seen the same day, sometimes memories that lingered in her head. But the emotion that she saw the most, the one she had based drawings around mostly, was sadness. The sadness of classmates that had lost loved ones or went through breakups. That happened every day. But the greatest anguish of all, was Tara’s. Tara, who never received love, kindness or even a smile from her adoptive daughter. Of course Kirika recognized this, but simply didn’t care about it. She didn’t feel the love, so how could she show it?

 

“Rika! Rika, can I look?” Lilia always ran out of bed whenever Kirika showed up, just to watch her draw. Her parents didn’t mind, it was the only thing that could cheer Lilia up those days. The same went for Kirika. She always tilted the sketchbook so that Lilia could watch. It was like this every time, and never did Lilia grow tired of it. When Tara once asked her why she loved watching Kirika draw so much, she answered:
“When Rika draws, she becomes less of a cold person.” She smiled when she talked about Kirika. The answer hit Tara by surprise. She never wanted to disturb Kirika while drawing, so she never interrupted. But it was true. When Kirika drew, she could forget the real world around her, the world in which she barely existed. This is what Lilia loved in Kirika. Not her fantasy, but how she could lose herself in her drawings. When it was time to leave again, Lilia always asked if she could keep one of the drawings. Kirika would just fetch her silver book and let her pick one. It didn’t matter to her which she wanted, the pictures were in her head at all times anyway. It was always the least sad one that Lilia wanted. Right after that they would leave. Lilia would wave until they were out of sight and yell “Goodbye!”, but every time, only Tara would answer her calls.

 

When summer vacations came Lilia often called if Kirika would come over, but she never felt like it. Only when Tara took her along she would go. Kirika never refused, but she would never take the initiative herself. Since Tara insisted on going, Lilia got to see Kirika at least once a week, usually on Sundays, when Lilia’s parents were home. Tara would talk to them, ask how she’s doing and have tea. Kirika would do her usual drawing and Lilia would just watch her every pencil streak. After a while, Lilia’s disease got worse. She was no longer able to get out of bed, so instead she asked if Kirika would draw close to her bed. Her room was completely pink and white. Her walls had pink flower motives on them, the curtains were a light pink and everywhere were pink plush toys. Kirika sat on the ground while Lilia watched over her shoulder. Kirika noticed how Tara wanted to see little Lilia more and more often and in less than a week they practically stopped by every day. Though the stay had significantly shortened, Kirika did not worry in the slightest. The one that was panicking was Tara. What Kirika never knew, what she was never told, was then Tara’s greatest concern. And not only hers.

 

One evening, just before the serving of dinner, Tara received a phone call. A call from Lilia’s parents. But this time, the smile that she usually wore when talking to them, disappeared like snowflakes in the sun. Kirika had to know. She had to tell her. Walking up to the couch, Tara found Kirika drawing as usual. It was her standard routine. When Kirika got home, she walked to her room, dropped her bag and pulled her silver sketchbook from her bookcase. At first she’d draw in her room, completely silent. After a while she would come down, when it was almost time for dinner. She would sit on the couch, knees up and draw in complete silence. When Tara sat next to her, she didn’t look up. Only when she spoke up to Kirika, she turned her head. Slightly confused Tara looked to her knees. Trying to keep her tears to herself, she looked right into Kirika’s eyes.

“Buttercup, you know about Lilia’s disease, don’t you?” she started, hoping to give a little bit away. But Kirika’s expression never changed.

“She has gotten worse lately.” She continued, stopping abruptly at that sentence. Trying to find the right words, she tried to speak up again, with tears in her voice.
“Honey, Lilia she...” she stopped again, wiped a tear away, pulled herself together again and she quickly said:
“Lilia died.” While tears flowed down her freckled face, drowning her blue green eyes.

 

Silence. Not a word was said. Tara was in tears, looking at Kirika. Kirika just said nothing. All she did was just sit there with disbelief in her eyes. Lilia who always looked so alive. Lilia who always cheered up when Kirika came to visit. Lilia. She was still young, about eight years old she must have been. Slowly Kirika’s head turned back to her drawing and saw that some of the pencil streaks were wiped out. Instead there was a big grey dot. She tried to draw over that spot, but the pencil didn’t seem to work. She tried again, but the paper tore at that spot. More grey dots appeared, some drawing a line that went all the way down. She tried to wipe them away, but they were stained into the paper. More spots fell and finally Kirika realized, she was crying. She cried. Never has she cried before. Not that she remembered. Burying her head in her hands, she fell to the ground, crying in sadness, screaming in agony. Tara, shocked by what happened before her eyes, sat on her knees next to Kirika and hugged her, but Kirika pulled away. For the first time, Kirika felt. Not things like physical pain, but emotional pain. Sadness, anguish, agony and fear of what she felt. All of the things she never had before, hit her like a hurricane of emotion.

 

Kirika, the one that never felt anything. But there was a reason for this. She was never meant to feel. She wasn’t supposed to have emotions. These feelings were wrong, they were not meant to be. Not for Kirika. Her screams of agony suddenly became screams of immense pain. Physical pain. She cried like the helpless, begging for their lives. The pain she went through, it was an unbearable pain. Like nothing before. She had fallen out of trees, got kicked in her face, but nothing could compare to this. The pain grew and her screams got louder and agonizing. A bright light coming from inside Kirika made Tara release the crying girl and step back, blinded. Tara squinted her eyes, but she could see nothing but white. So white that it hurt her eyes, so pure and white. Kirika’s scream got higher and higher as the light grew brighter. But then suddenly, it stopped. Tara opened her eyes slowly and looked around; it took her a few moments to gain her normal sight again. But soon after she opened her eyes a silhouette was as clear as day. Kirika lay on the floor, her eyes closed as if she were sleeping. It took her another moment to notice a significant change. On Kirika’s back, two large, pure white feathered wings had grown. Astound by the discovery, she paralyzed. As if nailed to the ground, all Tara could do was just make stuttering sounds. She slowly lifted her hand, reaching out for the wings. Before she could even lay hand on one of the wings, something bright started to shine again. A light inside Kirika. Tara crawled over and tried to wake her, but there was no reaction. She took her in her arms, one hand beneath the wings and the other above them. The light grew brighter and brighter and her vision became unclear. Seeing normal was difficult, but still she would not turn away. Hugging Kirika tighter, the light shone harder. As the brightness increased, even her eyelids could not block out the immense light. The pain of too much light still could not convince her to let Kirika go. The intensity of the light did not cease to grow. Tara cried out in pain, but the light kept growing and growing until it was too bright for her to handle.

 

When Tara came to, there was nothing left of Kirika. Like she never existed. Like it was all a dream. A long, deep and cruel dream. Even Tara would not believe it herself, though she saw the whole thing. Everything that happened. She almost thought she was going insane, were it not for the drawings that were still in Lilia’s room. The drawings she had always treasured. The only link left to Kirika. No one knew who made them, but Tara. Kirika seemed to be erased from everyone’s memory. Everyone, but Tara had forgotten that there ever live a girl in that place, carrying the name Kirika. Even her school record was gone, no classmates knew her anymore. Not even teachers, who always praised Kirika for her grades and her good concentration. Kirika never existed in their minds. In their lives as they remember them.

 

The reason that no one remembered her was because she never really was there at all. She never has been. She has never been truly alive. She had no emotions, for they would only stand in her way. Stand in the way of her purpose, her assignment. The assignment to watch over Lilia as a guardian. A guardian angel. She came to earth to serve her purpose, she had to make sure that Lilia lived her life the way she wanted before her time. And her time came soon. Lilia always enjoyed having Kirika around, she loved the drawings she got from her. This is why Kirika learned to draw. She drew what she knew, but more beautiful to make Lilia happy. Angels can’t use emotions. They are not supposed to feel them, just know them. Having emotions are a distraction, a nuisance to their purpose. When the job is done well, the angels disappear. They vanish, like they never existed. When Lilia died, when Kirika found out, she no longer served any purpose on earth. She fulfilled her assignment, Lilia lived her life happily. Though it was only for a short amount of time.

 

No one can change the lifespan of a person. Neither can they be brought back. The only thing that makes a change is making someone happy. Because someone that wears a real smile, no matter how short their life may be, has been brought that smile. And with that smile, they bring others happiness.


© Copyright 2017 AkakuKasumi. All rights reserved.

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