If I were to choose a word to describe what I’m possibly doing now it would be falling. Yes, falling would be very relative to the action I’m experiencing at the moment. Then again, I could
also be dreaming. I mean, who else falls from the sky and wakes up half way down? Or maybe I was sleeping in a plane when I fell off? The possibilities are just too many to be exacted.
Come to think of it, what is a plane again?
I feel for my forehead. No exterior injuries, must be internal then. Falling for what seems to be quite some time now, I get bored. Quite some time eventually leads to a rather long time and I wonder if I’ll ever make it to the bottom.
Not that I want to die or anything. The impact would have killed me one way or another unless a miracle happened.
I thought comes to mind.
Feeling for my arms, I’m surprised I haven’t made any attempt at all to move all the while I was falling for, ‘a rather long time’. Wiggling my toes, I feel a warm sensation of blood that rises to my head.
Well, at least I’m still alive.
Shrugging to myself, I close the V shaped gap between my legs and arms. Making a half spin in the air, I open my legs and arms wide again to balance myself. It seems easier than expected; and the previous thought told me why.
Before, I was only facing ‘up’ thus I had readily assumed that I was falling. Now that I’m facing ‘down’, I could also be floating.
I try turning ‘left’, and I do the same with ‘right’. The feeling of ‘falling’ and ‘floating’ differs only a little, if not none at all.
It seems that I’m trapped within a pocket space of some sort. An inescapable prison where I may float or fall for all of eternity; or at least, until I die. What did they call places like these… I search my fuzzy memory.
The voice echoes through my head and I clap. The word I was looking for. Come to think of it, all I’ve been saying to myself has more or less been influenced by the whispering made by the voice in my head. This time, it spoke louder than before.
I shift my position to a sitting one and cross my legs over each other. The voice is a feminine one, high pitched, yet confident. A calming warmth is felt every time it speaks yet I can’t seem to find out who it belongs to.
I look up (not that I know which way is up anyway). Well it was an intellectual approach. I wonder if ‘she’s’ reading my mind?-
I stop for a moment. ‘She’? What does it mean? I close my eyes and try to remember what it means. In my mind, I see various beings from the species called ‘humans’. I observe them and notice that they have the same features as I do. Maybe I was once a ‘human’ too. Maybe I still am. They all seem to be standing firm though, and not ‘falling’ or ‘floating’. There are notable changes though. Some of them have lumps on their chests and seem to reveal more of their bodies through skimpy ‘clothes’. The others don’t have ‘breasts’ and look more ‘aggressive’ than the ‘women’. I tilt my head.
It suddenly seems that I know much more words than before.
Other than ‘human’, there was the word… ‘clothes’. ‘Clothes’ are supposed to be worn. I can remember that much. Yet why aren’t I wearing any? Suddenly, I feel a warmth in my cheeks and I move my hands to cover the gap between my thighs.
The new word ‘she’ said expresses the emotion I am feeling now. Yet… Why?
For the first time since I’ve realized, I questioned myself.
I think for a while more to see if I remember anything else. Nothing. Crossing my arms, I feel stumped. I guess I’ll just have to continue searching my memory.
Closing the gap between my legs, I shift to a position similar to sitting on a chair. Somehow I understand what a chair is. I wonder if it’s connected to me regaining my memories.
Shrugging it off, I proceed to the next word. ‘Breasts’. This word referred to the two lumps that some of the humans had on their chests. Somehow, I feel embarrassed thinking about them. Maybe because the ones with breasts are wearing all sorts of erotic clothes and lingerie. I shake my head. I hear a cough in my head.
For some reason the voice in my head is urging me to go on. Not that I wanted to focus too much on that topic before.
‘Aggressive’. The word sounds scary. Even the way she said it was more serious than before. Why?
I picture aggressive men. All of them are big and scary and they all look at me with the same intimidating faces. I feel scared. Looking to my side, I see a man taking his clothes off. A woman standing by the counter takes hers off too. Taking down his pants, his dominance makes me want to puke yet the woman only seems to crave for it. Inserting it into her, she moans and screams. The woman seems to enjoy it. She seems to enjoy it.
I can’t look away or even close my eyes. I notice two different things at that moment. I notice that the woman has a slit between her legs. The man does not, yet he had something the woman does not have. Something I don’t want to think about.
Then, it dawns upon me.
The voice reads my mind again. I have unknowingly used this word a lot as I proceeded through my memories. Why did the voice only mention it now? Almost teary eyed, I move my hand to touch between the gap of my hips.
“You are not a woman”.
Eyes closed, I grin. Then I laugh. I remember now. I remember everything.
I had always looked like a girl. To the point some men have even confessed their love to me. No other girl would talk to me because of the way I looked. I was always lonely. Always.
Then one day, it happened. A robbery in my house. There were three people inside at the time. Papa, mama and me. Only one survived.
Almost screeching now, I feel the first of many tears begin trickling down my twisted face.
The sold me off to a prostitution ring thinking I was a girl. When they found out I wasn’t, I thought I would be set free. Yet the only thing that changed was the increase of my price tag. In the end, 6 men shared the bill and didn’t bother to rent a room; they would do it before everyone else.
Shaking my head with my tears still continuing to flow, I open my eyes and give the widest smile I’ve ever given. The six faces that grin back show me how scary the carnal hunger of animals are. The first man shoves it inside of me and I scream, my expression twisted between crying and laughing.
It would never end from now.
Opening my eyes, I notice I have fallen to the floor. Lifting myself upright, my entire body aches and I feel sticky. Holding on to the cold, wooden book rack that had anything but books in it, I carefully lift myself up from the floor of decaying wood and manage to get on the shabby looking bed with blotches of dried liquid all over it.
Suddenly, I get the urge to vomit, and I make it just in time to the toilet. It almost seems as if my intestines had been turned inside out as I puke the remaining white liquid out of my throat. Animals, no less. Maybe even worse. Both my armpits, between my hips, my mouth, the back of my neck and my anus. I wasn’t even given a chance to breathe.
Done, I pull the flush. Nothing happens.
Silence breaks in and I laugh. All I can do is smile and laugh. As always, it’s the only thing I can ever do.
That voice again. It came from the door and I turned around.
Standing there, was a girl probably no older than me, wearing nothing but a bra and laced panties. Another prostitute. She walks up to me. The she gently holds my face and nudges my nose to hers.
I am taken back in surprise.
She laughs at my reaction.
“Don’t laugh or smile when you’re feeling down”.
“Who… Are you?...” It feels kind of weird hearing my voice after getting used to hearing hers’.
I guess she was the one who helped my get up from my dream; or rather, nightmare.
She looks at me for a while and shrugs, “I’m just another prostitute.”
“Are you a mind reader?”
“Nah, I just read people like you easily.”
People like me? It didn’t really sound like it, but I feel like I was complimented.
Stretching and lifting her back from the wall, she takes a breath in and exhales before showing a sweet smile that probably helped when grabbing attention of customers. She looks at me.
“Well, how long are you going to sit there? We’re leaving tonight.”
I look at her. I’m lost.
“Yup. You don’t belong here. That’s why I’m going to take you to… Um… Ah! A journey! Just the two of us!”
Smiling to herself like she had just given a speech after winning her Noble Prize, she holds out her hand to me.
I feel a sea of random emotions flood my mind. The exact same feeling when I was dreaming about being in limbo. I feel inexistent. Yet looking at her smile…
I feel I can trust her. No logical explanation, just a gamble. Yet it’s a better choice than staying here.
I sigh to myself as I take her hand.
“Good, looks like we’re ready to go now!”
Wait, what? Seriously? I haven’t packed anything yet! (not that I even know what there is to pack)
“No need for packing, I’ve packed more than enough for the two of us~”
… I feel drained…
“Yep, I’ve packed everything there is, tooth brushes, some money, extra food, cute underwear…”
I got lost from that part onwards. Cute underwear. Panties. So she doesn’t know I was a man after all.
“Not really, I mean, you did it in PUBLIC. Even I saw that you had a wiener.”
I feel my face go red.
“Not that I mind though.”
I look at her, unsure what to feel. Humming to herself, she pulls off a few random dance moves.
“Male, female, who cares? You didn’t do anything wrong, you’re just cute, that’s all. And being cute isn’t wrong in the least.”
Cute? Me?? All my life being cute has just tormented me.
Yet… The way she said it makes me feel…
“Plus, I think you’d look really good in these underwear~”
I give a scowl and I laugh.
“Well, we’d better leave now while it’s still dark and don’t you dare ask me why I’m helping you escape.”
She beat me to the question.
“Look, someone helped me before when I was down… And now I want to help you. So come on already!”
She grins widely… And jumps out of the window with a rope tied to one of the bed’s legs.
…I don’t care anymore. I laugh to myself. Somehow that girl has brought something back inside me. A sign of hope? I don’t even know anymore. All I want to now is just follow her; no matter where she goes.
“Oh yeah, what’s your name? Mine is Miki! Well, my show name that is, but I don’t really remember my real one anyway, so what’s yours?”
I jump and I almost fall to the floor. What the hell?! She lifts her left hand to her face and gestures an apology. Baffled, I can’t help but laugh. Well, if we’re going to be partners, then I guess it’s fine. Looking at her by the window shrouded in moonlight, I smile.
“Sakurai. Sakurai Getsumori.”
© Copyright 2016 SakuraiGetsumori77. All rights reserved.
Book / Mystery and Crime
Short Story / Editorial and Opinion
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