Sato Hira

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
Sato Hira, a girl who doesn't remember anything except her name and the fact that she'll die soon.

Submitted: December 14, 2011

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Submitted: December 14, 2011

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My name's Sato Hira.

I don't remember who I am.

Where I am.

I just know one thing : 

The time has come. 

I must die. 

 

I gently sat down on a white cushion and picked up my cup of tea gingerly, then proceeded to take a sip. I really didn't know who I am and where I am, I just know my name's Sato Hira. And that I'm going to die soon. And although I know this, I some how stay calm. Relaxed. Unpressured, nothing. I don't know what I'm suppose to do today, before I die, right this moment, anything. There is no time. However, despite my lack of memories, I some how manage to feel pity. For myself. That I'm going to die today without a memory, without knowing how or why or when, and that I will probably die without doing anything. I'll just give myself to the Soul Reaper, or whatever people like to call him. I put down my cup quietly without a sound. I wondered how I got here and who I was. I raised up my tea to my lips again and took a sip. It helped me somehow. Calm me down a bit more although I was already calm. Also make's me calm. I took another sip. Why was I so calm? Another thing to think about. 

 

Time is running. 

 

I keep sipping tiny little sips, and when my tea runs out, I silently get up and get more. Instant tea. How do they do it, really? You simply add water and it's tea. This world has so many wonders, why do they say the world only has seven? On second thought, or perhaps this is my hundredth, those 'seven wonders of the world' aren't really that nice, not that much. I sip at my tea, then quickly put it back down. So hot. Well, it was hot water. Hot tea, actually. Or maybe it's really hot water with some instant tea powder. Honestly, this world has so many more fascinating things to ponder then a enormous three dimensional triangle.

 

 

I keep going on like that for hours somehow. I just happened to wake up at the beginning of this story, you know, although it didn't really look like morning. Maybe it was. You think about it. Anyway, it was sort of dark now. Like, there was still enough light to see the design of a persons scarf or read the graphic novel version of Artemis Fowl. I don't know why, but I do know the Artemis Fowl series. It was a nice series, you know . But anyway, it was that sort of dark outside now. I could tell because there were glass windows around me. You know, this place was pretty nice. I didn't really want to die anymore, although I never wanted to die from the start. It's just that it wasn't optional and I knew that somehow, and I was just going with the flow. Going with the flow is usually the smartest choice. 

 

 

I still kept going on, thinking and drinking. Not like alcholic bevarges drinking. My tea. I don't know why I know the tea was there or how I know how to make it or how it even got there, it was like how you know english. Or maybe japanese, if you didn't. Or sign language. Many languages and codes out there, you know? I sort of want to learn them all, but time is a funny thing. It never gives you enough when you want it. Sort of like life.

 

 

I can see the moon now. It's just a little curve of bright silver against the navy blue sky. You know, after I die and all, I sort of wanna go there. Like, instead of Heaven or something. I'm not really religious, but I'm not a logical person either. Just a person with no memories. But honestly, the moon is so pretty to stare at. Maybe I could also stare at the moon and think and drink my tea all at once. It doesn't seem that hard, as I'm sort of doing it right now. I tried to grab it in my pale hands. I failed, like the way you fail when you try to catch water from a sink. You think you got it in your palms when its still closed but once you open your hand, it's not there. But you see, if you use your imagination a certain, specific way, you can imagine that you did. Creativity is a powerful tool, afterall. How did you think they thought up the design for an Heckler 7 Koch PS6-1? If you don't know what it is, I consider you google it. Or yahoo it. Whatever pounds your mochi. 

 

 

 These hours passed so fast. All I've down so far was stare at the moon, wonder, and drink some tea. By the way, so far, I've drunk 28 brands of tea and 76 flavors, and probably over 100 cups. Do you think you know why I haven't gone to the restroom yet? I just really don't feel the urge to do my business. Maybe it's part of the fact that I'm going to die. 

 

 

 

I feel like I'm fading. Not literally, no, not literally. My feet are not ghostish looking. But I feel like I'm disappearing from the world, as if I'm really going to be gone and I won't leave a trace behind. I just have that feeling in my guts. Or brains. Or lungs. Or perhaps all three, or maybe everything in my body.

 

 

 

Now I think I'm literally fading. I can't tell, but it seems a little harder to hold my cup and the cushion seems a little softer and my body feels a little numb. I don't feel afraid though. Not even a little afraid. I'm still so calm about it. . maybe there was something in my tea?

 

 

 

Time is nearly gone.

 

 

 

Those little specks of sand in my hourglass of life are gone. My life is over. These are my last words, and I hope you think about them an awful lot - " Wonder. "

 


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