REMAID- Dreams of Ghosts and Realities of Ironic Truths

I'm dreaming a peaceful dream. I'm on the little balcony of the family apartment, furnished only by the fairly late addition of a small glass table for when dad is out drinking scotch, or whatever he's drinking at the moment…but it's most likely scotch. The clouds above me are a gentle gray, and from them fall a gentle stream of raindrops. The water soaks my hair and clothes. The massage sets me at ease as I watch the traffic below. Seeing it all pass by is so mesmerizing. I begin to wonder, who’s that in the light blue car? Why does someone have duct tape for a window rather than glass? Who are the late adults stressing in their taxi seats and where do they need to be going? It's wonderful, and I'm at peace.

As I begin to think I'm going to have a good dream, however, I'm interrupted by a sound, causing a violent reaction inside me. I grip tight to the bars around the balcony. This can't be happening. Each creak makes me want to vomit. I try to pinch myself, but it's too late. My brain has decided this is what I must experience. I've reached the point of no return. Where dreams become deathly slow and painful realities reside. I'm forced by not my own will but the desire to have it all be done with to turn my head. Slowly, carefully, my eyes begin to face what waits there.

It's her. The pale face drained of life. The eyes open wide but they're never to show the look of surprise ever again. The whole world disappears. The only thing that matters to me is now just ahead, hanging from a rope tied to the ceiling fan. Even though it matters…why can't I feel anything? I reach out my hand to touch the body, but I can't. My hand merely passes through, the body turning to rubble, pieces of canvas. Before me, a girl cries. She cries and cries, as I do nothing. What should I do? No, I can't do anything. Because she's not crying about her canvas.

She's crying from the pain of being stabbed in the back, and I'm the one holding the knife.

###

September 1st, 2023

I open my eyes, feeling the moistness of sweat on my forehead. Memories of the dream just moments before swirl round and round in my head as I gently rub the confused thing.

"Master Yuta?" I jolt up out of bed, falling out and slamming my head on the floor.

"Ahhhhh shit!" I hold my head as I begin pulling myself up. Standing on the other side of the bed is a surprised looking woman, with short blonde hair and blue eyes, wearing a maid outfit and holding clothes in her arms. She, also, is hot as fuck. “Ahhhhhhhhheeeellllooooo there!” I wave my hands in the air like a comedian, earning me a gentle giggle. Her pity is highly attractive.

“Hello there Master Yuta. My apologies for scaring you. Next time I look forward to a more fortunate meeting.” She bows for me, causing violent discomfort to attack the depths of my morality. What am I doing making a gorgeous woman bow to me?

“I-It’s no biggie. You know, it was more the bad dreams fault than you, hehehe~” I scratch the back of my head with intense ferocity. Whether it ends up bleeding or not is irrelevant to the conversation. Regardless, she seems entertained, so maybe I’m making up for my poor first impression.

“Bad dreams? Those are bad for your health sir, I’ll look into some deep sleep medicine for you.” She puts a finger to her chin as if she’s made a powerful decree and it sends my heart aflutter.

I have come to the conclusion I am hopelessly weak to women.

“Ah, wait, I don’t think I’ve heard your name yet…which makes sense, it would be weird if I had, and I wouldn’t wanna be weird, I mean, I eat ants but I do take full advantage to never talk to my-

“Heheahahaha!” She seems to belly laugh at my continued rambles. Holding her stomach she starts to give a mighty, joyous reaction to what I only consider nonsensical rambling. Well…I mean if she likes it, then there’s no need to look too deep into it.

“Uhm…so, your name miss?” I ask, a bit more directly this time, and now I get an answer.

“Tanya Ryuga.” Tanya Ryuga? Woah, that’s a pretty name. Definitely befitting of her presence, her elegance, he-

“RYUGA?!”

###

“So…let me get this straight.” Sitting next to the maid who has just handed me a cup of morning coffee, I try to run through all the information she has just given me. “You’re a Ryuga. You left your husband without divorcing for your own reasons, adopted a 10 year old Mina, moved here, and met my grandmother and became her maid after people mysteriously learned you were a Ryuga and that made it impossible to work anywhere.”

“I also do people’s graphic design.” She adds with a lovely smile.

“So…Mina is a Ryuga too?” She nods to my question, sitting back in her chair.

“My poor baby can never seem to escape it at school. People like us really are only seen as tickets out of places like this…not that I understand why anyone would ever wanna leave a place so peaceful.” I nod along, not really listening very well. Instead, my mind is on another tidbit of info she revealed; she is currently only 25. So mature and beautiful, and only 25…

“Master Yuta?” Tanya cocks her head at me, and I snap back to attention.

“Sorry, I feel as though my soul has been transferred to the astral plane.” I clear my throat. “So, you say it’s hard on Mina?” I try to dig a little more, mostly out of morbid curiosity.

“I think you’ll catch onto it on your own. It’s hard not to notice.” It almost sounds like a joke, but Tanya isn’t laughing. I gulp.

“G-got it.” I say, unsure if there’s really anything else to say. As we sit in silence, I begin to realize things may be getting too serious. “Well, whatever problem she’s facing, I’m sure she can overcome it. She’s a Ryuga after all. You guys must be, like, as on point as an iron sight target or…or uh…a red dot! Oh, no, that’s not what it’s called. Uhh…”

“I understand Master Yuta! Ehhehehe~. Thank you, I needed a good laugh.” Tanya seems pretty happy. I take that as an absolute win.

“Oh, right, I gotta get ready for orientation. Uhm, it’s been fun, thanks for the uniform and the chat!”

“Thank your grandma for the uniform. She didn’t want her grandson looking mangey on the first day.” Tanya responded.

“Grandma, I love you!!!” I yell into the air, and in response, a voice echoes back.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

###

I walk out, dressed for success and with a stuffed bag on my back. With endless determination, I feel the strong desire to book it, but, that would be work, and why waste the view? So, I take my time. I walk my way out of a circle of houses, in one of which I happen to reside, and take the dirt path past a place filled with beautifully cared for flowers. I continue on, admiring the scenery as I pass houses and shops on my way to the corner of town, where I remember the imposing middle/high school is kept. As I walk, I notice the growing number of students around me. Still, the numbers don’t compare to back in the city. I’m silently thankful for that. As I’m counting my blessings for the lower body count, I notice something. Something flowing in the wind. A…head of red hair. My heart skips a beat. Oh…oh god. It’s her. It’s Mina! The sweet, hot as hell girl from yesterday…I…I have to talk to her!

I make my way through the crowd of students as we arrive on the road to the school, and somehow, I manage to reach out, and say “Yo.”

Mina looks back.

“Oh, it’s you.”

“...huh?”

“Don’t expect me to interact with you outside work hours. In fact, I’d appreciate it if you left me alone when you can help it.” With that, she refuses to speak to me.

I feel my heart shatter.

This girl…is a total asshole!