Misha and Her Revelations [FINAL]

Sweltering heat smothered her side of the court like a deadly ray that siphoned up all of her energy. Part of the gymnasium that she and Enoch were playing in looked like it was ripped off by a colossal titan while what remained looked rusty and smelled like rot. The stench made her nose wrinkle, but it was only a meaningless distraction: after all, she was down 4 and 0, and the ball was hers.

Enoch was in front of her about a head or two taller, arms outstretched. While he might’ve been able to cover a broader range, she was faster. She thought about making a quickstep to his left, but that turned out to be her final and most fatal mistake because she started thinking about which direction that actually was. Was that her left or her right?

Her legs crossed when she went for the shoot, leading her face to meet Ground: another classic enemy of hers. Unfortunately for her, a powerful leap was enough for Enoch to graze the greyed ball, and as it fell to the ground unceremoniously, a voice called out from the bleachers.

“That’s five ‘n O! Enoch wins!” Konny, who was busy doodling something in her notebook, looked up and cheered.

“Hah… hah…” The girl pushed herself up from the floor before rolling onto her back. She felt like she was more sweat than human. “That’s unfair and you know it…! Enoch had shade for most of the game!”

“You were the one who chose to play sunny side,” Enoch wiped his brow before threading his fingertips through his crimson hair, grinning widely. “Plus, weren’t you the one who taught me how to play ball? That’s about as fair as it gets. It’s not my fault you were playing like you put your ankles on wrong today.”

“Yeah, but…!” The girl wanted to say something, but she instead chose to get up and sulk over to Konny’s side, grabbing and shaking her arm. “Konny! Enoch’s being annoying again.”

“Enoch!” Konny scolded, putting down her notebook to wave her hand. “Don’t be so rude. She’s more like… a fish out of water? Or a fish with its tail tied to its head! Yeah, that’s better!”

“I’d argue that that’s even ruder!”

The three stared at each other for a moment before bursting into a fit of laughter. Life in the broken world wasn’t easy, but it was home. Mundane school days blended together for an eternity, dappled in sun-kissed dreams and youthful fervor.

“Thanks for the game, but I gotta get going,” Enoch sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve got something important later and I need to get there by sundown. I’ll get an earful from my pops if I’m late, so I’m planning on getting there early.”

“Aw, what?” The girl was about to quip something until she noticed the look on his face: one part distant and another part hardened. In the end, she couldn’t help but tease him a little. “What’s got you looking so glum? You’re not the one who lost a match of ball.”

“Huh?” Enoch’s eyes widened before a small smile played on his lips. “Ah, it’s nothing. Guess I just got… a little distracted, that’s all. Can’t blame me for getting all sentimental.”

“Enoch, sentimental? What impostor replaced our Enoch?” Konny pointed accusatorily.

“Oh, shut up,” Enoch rolled his eyes, walking over to the two girls to grab his bag. He slung it over his shoulder before ruffling the girl’s hair. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow, yeah? Don’t fall off a cliff, now.”

Enoch waved his goodbye, leaving through the massive hole in the side of the gym. Meanwhile, the girl was busy blowing raspberries.

“Blehh,” she mocked. “I bet he thinks he’s soo funny. He was definitely talking about me, wasn’t he?”

“Pffbh, it’s just his way of telling you to stay safe on the way home, silly,” Konny stifled a laugh. “Speaking of which, I should probably get going too. Don’t forget about our project that’s due next week!”

As the girl watched Konny get up from her seat, she sighed. “You’re joking, right?”

“Nope… you better work on it tonight before you forget, or else,” Konny glared through squinted eyes before waving the girl a wink farewell. “Toodles!”

Once the girl was left all alone to her thoughts, her mind wandered. From the scarce memories she did manage to retain, they were her childhood friends: three in a class of twelve, inseparable since grade school. While she had a general idea that she shared a longstanding connection with them, most of her experiences were relived through a journal that she kept up-to-date every morning. If nothing else, it was her way of keeping her grip on reality.

// Today, I played a game of ball with Enoch. I lost. Konny said to finish the project.

“...and done,” she finished with a flourish, clapping the pages closed. “Can’t wait to go home and do some gardening… hm?”

Just before the girl was about to get up and leave, she noticed that Konny left her notebook behind on the seat.

“That’s weird,” she picked it up, flipping through the pages with a less-than-harmful amount of curiosity. She was expecting poor doodles or haphazard notes, but each page happened to be filled with extremely detailed drawings of random objects and picturesque landscapes. “Who knew Konny was such a good artist?”

The more pages she turned, though, the more the curve of her lips fell. At first she chalked up her obliviousness to the fact that she couldn’t remember anything that she learned in class, but picture perfect drawings eventually melted into complex equations, diagrams, and puddles of nonsense that she couldn’t make heads or tails of. Words meshed until they blurred together, almost as if she suddenly became mentally incapable of reading.

Even so, a part of her already knew what she tried to ignore.

Her eyes widened, breath hitched. Her jaw quivered, more aware of the beat of her heart thundering in her eardrums. Trembling fingers let the notebook slip through her palms, and the resounding thud made her want to claw at her head.

“No. No, no, no, no, no…”

Dissonant voices, all familiar yet not, reached out to her with their serpentine tongues. They were too loud and too quiet, too much to bear and too weak to understand. Even if she could make out some of it, she remained willfully ignorant, cupping her ears and closing her eyes to wash away the impurities staining her mind. If she shut them out, would they go away? Or would more of this agony seep into her bones until it bled her blood, the very essence of her soul?

Before her world went dark, one voice---clearer and louder than the rest---spoke simply and soothingly.

“Don’t worry. You’ll forget about all of this very soon. Put your trust into your eyes and ears, for they will tell you everything that you need to know.”

== == ==

“...on… young one… Misha? Are you alright?”

When Misha came to, she was still standing there next to Kiria on the observation deck, judging by the way the winds whipped against her skin. For a moment her mind was blank, an empty canvas to be overwritten. Once the girl remembered that she did indeed exist, she clasped her hand tighter with the woman’s own, a noticeable tremble potent in her voice.

“...Kiria,” she began softly. “Do you think that there might be something fundamentally wrong with me?”

“What?” Kiria hummed questionably. “Whatever brought this on?”

“I’m fanatically obsessed,” Misha smiled sadly. “I want to know it all, but when pieces start falling into the wrong places, I get scared. Maybe things are better like this. If I just cup my ears and let somebody else write the story for me, then…”

“No.”

Kiria’s voice was firm, but not harsh.

“What I said was not an invitation for you to become as they have, cowering in fear. I think there is one fact that you have yet to come to terms with. No matter how hard you try, you will never see the world for what it is.”

“Then all the more reason, right? Wading around in the dark like this, even if I’m trying my best to understand everything…”

Stranded in a strange world, with memories of another person slowly overwriting her own. How long would it be until the very core of her identity would fade away into oblivion? No longer did she have the journal with all of her coveted memories that she held so dear. Even if she were to make a new one, she wouldn’t be able to make sense of any of it.

“You misunderstand me. Those of us whose eyes do work still view the world through various lenses. Some, like your brother, maintain a hopeful optimism, while others may find it bleak and disgusting. You do not need your eyes to formulate your opinion. What you make of the information given to you becomes the world.”

“But what if it’s wrong? What if there’s some sort of correct answer that I’m not getting? Thinking I’m right feels worse than just being plain wrong.”

“Then you let the impurities breathe. Simply because you lose control of reality once doesn’t mean that you should give your entirety to the winds,” Kiria said as naturally as she breathed. Her hand left Misha’s to rest atop the girl’s head of tangled hair.

“In your brother’s world, he will forever see you as his little sister. Much like other things in life, this is something that you cannot control. He may mask his reality from you at times, but he will never lie, nor will he try to hurt you. If you listen closely, you will find that the truth will bleed through.”

There on the observation deck, for the first time in a while, the girl’s eyes truly felt opened. What was once a palette of blended colors actualized itself into a murky blob at first. The more she focused on the image, the sooner it melted away into a clear, perceivable figure. It was just a bit taller than her, with slender arms covered in puffy sleeves and a steady look that betrayed no emotion.

“Now it’s a matter of whether or not you believe you can carry this weight—the responsibility that you have for your experience. Do you believe in yourself?”

A long, deafening silence fell between the two. With a heavy breath, Misha’s whispered resolve shone through like a wispy candlelight.

“...I do.”

“Good.”

As the two stood at the edge of the observation deck, the girl realized that the echoes of this moment would surely resound within her for an eternity.