Like a Moth to a...

The first week of university had passed. We were entering the weekend. I was in need of a break from my turbulent week. Miraculously, Hiroshi had not bothered me to an extent that I would need a therapist. On the account that he headed home as he had never told his mother that he was going to stay in a dorm with a student he just met.

“Your mom’s going to kill you.” I told Hiroshi.

“Hopefully it’s a quick death. Either way, I’ll be back!” He replied.

The burning questions I had for Misako were never answered either, I couldn’t catch her at the perfect time to talk. She would make constant excuses, or make sure she was not to be found. The few moments I could catch her, she would stumble over her words or decline into her shell, giving me no chance to ask her a single question.

“Ishihara, can we talk?” I asked her in our dorm-house.

“T-Talk? Why do you want to talk to m-me?” She replied.

“I just want to-”

And she would speed away to her room before I could answer.

“Why is she acting so weird?” I would ask Mister Takahashi.

“You kids are becoming dumber and dumber every day, I swear.” He chirped in reply.

I decided to leave it for the weekend to try again. On Saturday morning, I opted into cleaning my room thoroughly. Labor tasks helped ease my mind, letting me concentrate on my much-needed studies. I was thankful that Hiroshi would only return the following Monday. I sat on my knees as I scrubbed away at the flooring, I was unsure if I was proceeding correctly, but either way I was prepared to spend my entire day cleaning. As I scrubbed away, I thought about Misako:

‘I wonder, did she ever live in my hometown? That seems logical, maybe I DID make two pocket watches. Maybe we met before my accident, and we used to be friends…No, but then she would have remembered me, right? She didn’t lose her memories. And my father never told me about me being friends with a Japanese girl as a kid. I just don’t know…’

Then, a knock on the door to my room.

‘KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK’

I heard no voice on the other side, so I assumed it was not Missus or Mister Takahashi. I let the noise pass, I was in no mood to answer the door.

‘KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK’

A ghost? We would assume that, however I did not believe in ghosts. A few seconds of silence passed without any knocking. And I returned to my room cleaning.

‘KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK’

I’d given up, I guessed it were important.

“Hello?” I asked.

But no return voice to my call.

“HELLO?” I yelled.

Still no answer.

I would be lying if I said I was not somewhat creeped out. Usually, a person would respond. I stood up from my cleaning and crept towards the door. No knocking, and no voices as I edged forward. I could feel my feet shiver. My spine tingled. I took a deep breather as I stood in front of the door.

‘No ghosts, No ghosts, No ghosts, No ghosts…’ I repeated in my mind.

‘KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK’

“UWAHHHHHH” I screamed at the top of my voice.

I yanked the door open, and no one stood in front of me. I looked down, and there they stood.

“What?” I questioned.

A boy. He held a packet in both of his hands. He looked to be no older than ten years old. He had remarkably strong, red-shined hair. A ruby-red that reflected in the sunlight. He looked at me with knife-like green eyes.

“Why are you yelling?” The boy said.

I gathered myself, checking my underwear for any ‘mishaps’. I then coughed, playing off my fear.

“I-I was just trying to scare you. Ha-ha.” I chuckled nervously.

“You look like you scared yourself, mister.” The boy retorted.

“Wh-What do you want?” I asked him.

The boy handed me the grocery-store packet. It was heavy, and some items rattled inside of the packet.

“What is this?” I asked him.

“I don’t know, it’s from sis.” He spoke.

The boy said nothing further, and marched back down the stairs of the house. I was utterly baffled at the boy’s demeanour and did not know who this sister of his was.

“Who?” I asked down the hallway.

But I received no answer. I looked inside the grocery bag, a couple bottles of cleaning detergents and cloths for cleaning. In there was a note as well. I closed my door behind me as I placed the bag on my bed. I opened the note to read it:

“You’re going to destroy the wood flooring, use these instead. Please stop making a racket.” The note read.

“Who is this from?” I asked myself.

Then, another knock on the door. I opened the door to see the same boy again. But this time he had a toy gun in both hands. He wore black sunglasses, and had a candy-cigarette in his mouth. He appeared to look like some sort of secret agent.

“What are you doing?” I asked him.

“I’ve returned. To eliminate the monster.” The boy said in a pretend-deep voice.

“What are you-” and before I could say anything else, the boy fired from his gun. They were no ordinary plastic guns, they were gel guns that shot gel bullets. The boy riddled my abdomen with numerous amounts of gel-bullets. They were not painful, but they stung like little pen-pricks. I yelped in pain as the boy mowed me down in my bedroom. I let out a final yelp as the bullets in the boy’s gun depleted.

“Mission accomplished; target neutralized.” The boy said in an incorrect order.

He pretended to blow fake smoke from his gun and left again. I sat curled in the foetal position on my floor. My clothes were stained with gel bullets in an assortment of colours. I wanted to die then and there.

“Why…” I groaned.

“Are you okay, my boy?” Mister Takahashi asked as he peered inside my room.

“I think I was assassinated.” I remarked.

“It seems you were, my boy.”

“…Who is that boy?”

“He’s Misako’s little brother. Yuta.”

“Ishihara’s little brother…is a demon?”

“It seems you were the demon; he was the agent. These kids have wild imaginations!” Mister Takahashi howled.

I was in shambles. I could not imagine my day getting any worse. I looked scanned my room to inspect the damage, the boy had peppered the floor with paint bullets, eliminating the already half-done work I had done. I had to re-clean the entire floor, from scratch.

“Why do I attract weirdos, Uncle Takahashi?” I groaned.

“As we’ve said to you before; you attract them, like moths to a-”

“Don’t…finish that sentence. Just let me die.” I interrupted.

“Sure, just make sure to be ready for dinner; my wife is making Tonkatsu for us tonight.” He said, walking off.

“Delicious.” I mumbled, refusing to get off the floor.

I was executed by a child less than half my age.