Day 1: Changing for the Better

There were blood stains scattered across her sheets, bruises peeking through her clothes, and streaks of tears running down her face. I knew there was nothing I could do to get her to stop crying, but even so, I couldn’t shake that feeling away. All I could do was tell her, “I’m sorry.” 

After I pathetically apologized to her, her eyes widened for a moment, and she asked me, "What's wrong?” I didn't understand what she meant by that. Why was she worrying about me? I did so many awful things to her, yet she still asked me, “Why are you crying?” 

Huh?

I put my hands up to my face and…there were tears in my eyes.

As I tried to get off of her, I lost my balance and fell to the floor. I couldn't feel any pain in my back, as I looked up and realized:

It's so dark in here. 

“Are you okay?” I looked back down at her again. She was holding her hand out to me while covering herself with her torn sheets. 

As I stared at her hand, and my vision became blurry, I only thought of one thing, Someone…please, kill me…

“Mena”

The lights flickered on as he brought his arms over his shoulder and took off his shirt; the horrifying sight of his torso coated in a thick layer of blood was reflected in the mirror. The rest of his clothes came off and he threw them without looking where they'd land.

He turned the shower on to the same lukewarm temperature he always set it to and got in. After standing there for a while, the water below him had been dyed a grotesque scarlet hue, as it swirled around, and flowed into the drain.

 Once the water was clear again, and there were no signs of any cuts on him, he turned the water off and got out. 

He put his clothes on and looked at the mirror. 

Drops of water slid down his face as he leaned against the counter, staring at his own reflection. But it was as if he wasn't looking at himself, but at some thing that had taken his place. 

What are you trying to do?

The lights went out, as he walked out of the bathroom, blatantly ignoring me, and looked over at that room at the end of the hallway. That room was where he kept everything he didn't want to remember anymore, but couldn't forget. Twisting his head in the other direction, he walked away.

Once he reached the front door, he sat down to get his shoes on and tightened the knots, before getting up, with a bag in his hand. While opening the door, he quietly said, "I'll be back." 

There was no one there to give him a response. There never was.

After all, he killed-

After waiting for nothing, he walked outside, into the dry autumn air, and closed the door behind him. The sound of cars driving by, the wind blowing past him, and people talking in their apartments, was enough to distract him from any unnecessary thoughts he might have had.

As he walked along the side of the open corridor, he stopped to look down the stairs he used every morning to get down from the second floor, before, once again, walking down them. 

The stairs creaked with each step he took until he reached the ground. 

From there, he walked over to the dinky bike rack he always left his bike at and rolled it onto the pavement. Once he was on it, he started pushing the pedals forward, but something was wrong. Something was different.

A ferocious gust of wind dragged behind him, as he violently pushed his legs down, harder and harder, against the pedals. Shop signs, park benches, and even the street lights were all blown away in an instant.

Yet, despite his destructive rampage, he easily avoided hitting the numerous people he passed by, without slowing down even a bit.

It was strange that nobody he passed stopped to look at-

It was then, that the chains on his bike started making an ominous clanking sound, and he came to a sudden and complete stop. 

At an intersection he had never been to before.

Holding his bike next to him, he walked up to the curb, and soon, someone else walked up to the curb, a noticeable distance away from him.

It was someone he knew—a friend of Louise's. It wasn’t a coincidence that they’d be here today. He knew that they took this route every day. 

He went out of his way knowing they would be here.

But why bother meeting up with someone who’s about to die?

While they both stood there, silently waiting, he glanced at them a couple of times, thinking that he wouldn’t be noticed, as he took out his phone and took a picture. Not that it would matter at all if he did get noticed.

The cars started to slow down, then the crossing light turned on, and he watched as they took a step onto the road, but suddenly…

Everything stopped…

There was nothing. Absolutely nothing. There existed not a single word in any human language that could describe the feeling of being consumed by this vast nothingness. This 'place' wasn't something that could be understood. Its existence alone contradicted the natural order of cause and effect. Yet, he understood it, and he used it to bend the world to his will.

When he returned, the blistering heat of the sun had disappeared, the blaring sound of traffic could no longer be heard, and the burning smell of gasoline was replaced by a stagnant cold air.

He threw his bike to the ground, completely shattering it, and the ground below it, like it was glass, and ran as fast as he could toward them.

With each earth-shattering step he took, seismic shockwaves ripped through the surrounding buildings, completely destroying them. Once he was close enough, he grabbed the back of their shirt and pulled them onto the sidewalk. 

When they both fell to the ground, the world started moving again, and a giant freight truck flashed by in front of them.

All of his senses, which had been frozen, suddenly erupted.

As blood started to leak from his right nostril, he stood up and looked at the person he’d just saved, lying on the ground, gasping for air. He hesitated for a moment, before reaching out his hand to help them up.

After taking some time to catch their breath, they grabbed his hand and stood up. It felt familiar somehow, but that shouldn't have been the case; this has never happened before.

Without hesitating, he told them, "Nothing happened here." 

As they absentmindedly walked across the street, he walked over to his bike and picked it up. The ground was fine. The buildings were fine. His bike was fine. He was 

He watched as the cars started passing in front of him again.

While he waited, he looked at his phone. On it, was the picture he’d taken of the person he just saved. They were wearing a girls’ uniform from the school he went to.

Nothing else of note happened the rest of his way to school. 

He arrived at the same time he always did, put his bike where he always did, and walked to class like he always did, all without missing a single nondescript beat. It was all the same as always.

He walked into his class but stopped for a moment. Sitting at his desk, where she wasn't supposed to be, was the girl who was always on his mind, Louise. As he continued to walk, he continued to stare at her, even when he was standing right next to her. 

In her hand, was a book she was reading, so intently that she hadn't noticed him yet. He watched as she turned the page, and, 

"Hey!" 

Instantly, he regretted saying that as suddenly as he did. 

It didn't make sense why he would, though.

She looked up at him, and for a moment, it seemed like she was expecting something from him. But after exchanging a few seconds of silence, she called out to him, “Hey?”

Realizing he had just been staring at her, without saying anything, he began acting nervously. "Uhh…Well, you're…that's where I usually sit, so…" 

"Oh. Sorry about that, I've been kinda out of it this morning." As she laughed at herself while saying that, she got up and walked over to the desk behind his. It was too convenient that she’d sit there. What’s going on? When did he-

When he pulled out the chair and sat down, he noticed her book was on his desk. Saying nothing about it could lead to more problems for him, so he decided to give it back to her right away. 

Was that just a convenient excuse to talk to her again?

"You weren't kidding, huh." As he said that, he turned around, facing her head on, and held out her book in his hand. "Here you go." A slight blush showed on her cheek, as she reached out to grab the book from him. 

For some reason, he couldn’t fight the urge to ask her, "Are you okay?"

She noticed the difference in the way he was looking at her, and, instead of answering him, confusedly asked him, "What?" She wouldn't be able to understand why, but her instincts must have been warning her: to get away.

"There's nothing wrong. Okay? I just didn't get enough sleep last night." It was obvious that she was lying. She’s always been a terrible liar. Even worse than he was before he changed. Normally that would've been enough, but for him…it wasn't.

"Oh, I'm glad you're okay. If you ever want to ask me about anything, go right ahead." Despite saying that with a surprising amount of consideration for her feelings, he certainly didn't mean it. It seemed like she really didn't want to talk to him about it. So, he's just going to make her say it anyway.

"What's wrong?" 

It was akin to watching puppet strings pull her lips up and down, as she asked him, "What do you think it means to love someone?”

You're glad she's okay?

What a joke.

You planned to do this from the start, didn’t you?

At first, she seemed completely calm, but, as his influence left her mind, she slowly became more and more embarrassed, and her cheeks dyed themselves a crimson red.

"That's…quite the question." If he were really that worried about her, he wouldn't have made her tell him like this. But he's already gone this far, so there's no way he'll stop until he gets what he wants.

"It means you want to be with that person more often than not and whenever you're with them, you want to make them happy in whatever way you can, even if it means going out of your way sometimes." He spoke from the heart when he said that to her, precisely because it was her. Blood rushed to his face as he realized what he had just done, and he added, "That's what I think at least."

"What about you? Do you have someone like that?" There were no underlying motives behind those words; he sincerely wanted to comfort her, in whatever way he could. 

He was just completely oblivious to how he looked while saying that.

However, seeing him answer her so sincerely, seemed to have calmed her down a little. And she looked him in the eyes, as she told him, "I've thought about it before, but I've never really understood it, I guess." 

"I know I love my friends and family, but it's never felt like 'that', you know?" As she spoke, she was clearly worried about something, but she also seemed happy—with a sweet, innocent smile painted across her face.

"Is that why you asked me about it?" As if her mind had finally caught up to what was going on, her expression instantly became distorted.

"It's…nothing, really. Sorry, that was such a weird question to ask, wasn't it? I just say whatever comes to my mind sometimes. It can be a real pain. Don't think too much about it, okay? It's not important." Those empty words which came out of her mouth, that she had forced a vacant smile onto, left him at a loss for words, for a moment.

This was his chance to back out of whatever it was that he was doing, but, instead, he defiantly asked her, "Do you really mean that?"

"I…just…pretend I didn't say anything, okay? I'm sorry for bothering you." Just as she was about to pick up her book, he snatched it away.

 And just as she was about to make a retort, she saw the expression he was making while looking at her, and her hand, which was reaching out to grab the book he had just taken from her, froze.

"There's no way I can do that." She was just as surprised as I was when he said that, while clearly on the verge of crying. This is the first time I've seen him act like this. 

But…why is he doing this?

After all the chances you've had, all the times you could've done something,

Why now? 

Why are you doing this now?

"There's nothing wrong with saying what's on your mind; that's how you feel. No one would be bothered by that." It's shocking how he could say that with such conviction, while simultaneously being unable to understand the irony of him being the one to say it.

"As far as loving someone goes, you don't need to force yourself to have feelings for someone." This wasn't something that would help him. If he wanted to, he could've forced her to feel better, but he’s not doing that. "If you ever think you do, you can decide what those feelings mean to you at your own pace and on your own terms. But you shouldn't be telling yourself how it should feel or when you should feel it."

"You're not missing anything and there's nothing wrong with you. Feelings are precious because they're what make you, you. So don't say they don't matter." He looked her in the eye and noticed how taken aback she was, but there was one last thing he wanted to tell her, "Don't tell me to forget about it." 

It was selfish of him to tell her that, when all she could do was confusedly misunderstand it. 

After all, you made her forget everything.

There wasn't any point in saying all of that to her. Soon enough, she won't be able to remember any of it. Only you will. So what was the point of all of that? You've selfishly taken everything from her, again and again, and again, so why do you want to comfort her like this?

Why won't you answer me?

Is it because you don't know the answer? 

Is it because you know I'm right?

Or is it because you've finally given up on this stupid idea of yours?

Just how long will you keep hiding from me like this?

"I'm sor-

"Thank you." In an instant, all of the dread and anxiety that had been building up in his mind vanished, as her sweet voice trampled over his vain attempt of sincerely insincerely apologizing to her for something she couldn't even remember.

"Uhh, of course. I mean…" This time, he wasn't just playing up his awkwardness, he actually was nervous. Just from the way he was looking at her, it was obvious why. "I…"

The room went dark for a moment, then suddenly returned to normal, but, now, he had that blank look that he always had on his face again. She didn't seem to notice it, even though she was staring right at him.

Mena

Are you really going to act like what you did to her doesn't matter?

Isn't that convenient?

Whenever things go wrong, you can just start over and try again.

You can live your life in a world where no one blames you.

But that's it. 

If they can't remember, they can never forgive you.

You can keep on running, but nothing will change.

You won't be able to make things right if even you forget what you've done.

Don't be so selfish. 

You're just a-

"Hey!" Suddenly, everything became brighter again, and when I turned to my side…she was there. Her hands were cupped around her mouth, and she seemed tired for some reason. How long was I out for?

Before I could process the situation, I noticed she was holding my hands.

 "What're you…" As I was about to ask her about it, she suddenly brought me closer to her, and gently touched the back of my head.

After a few seconds of being unable to breathe, she jokingly commented, "You're really cold, you know. It kinda tickles." She laughed a little, as she said that, and I bit down on my lip. 

I put my hand on her shoulder, ready to push her away, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. "It's fine if you let go." As I said that, she put her hands on my back, holding me even tighter. 

I looked up at her, and…

"You don't have to worry." She slowly moved closer and closer to me, until she was resting her head on my shoulder. I could hear every breath she took as our bodies melted together. Then, she whispered in my ear, "I kinda like it." 

I can't. I could feel my lips pursing up, as I reached my hands behind her back and accepted her embrace. I can't do this. My heart skipped a beat as she adorably chuckled in my ear, after noticing how flustered I was. Stop it.

The slightly ticklish feeling I'd get as her hair gently grazed my skin. Don’t think about it. A soothing fragrance that healed my soul. Don’t notice it. This warmth that made me forget how cold I’ve always been. Don’t remember it.

I closed my eyes, and……..when I opened them, I was in her room.

I started gasping for air, as I realized what was going on. There was blood all over her sheets and on my hands—her blood. I looked down, and there she was…shivering, in fear. "…how could you…?" I fell back, and hit the ground, as I panicked to get away. 

When I looked up, she was there…holding her hand out to me. I could feel my heart pounding through my chest, as I looked up at her—my entire body shaking with every breath I took. "How could you forget what you did?" I could feel my muscles tensing up as I tried to get away. I couldn't move. "How could you act like it never happened?" There was a thunderous force pounding in my head, as I noticed her hand had gotten closer, and then suddenly it became harder to breathe.

There was a devilish smile on her face as she happily crushed my throat. It didn't hurt, though. I couldn't feel anything anymore. The only thing that was left was her silent voice as she tearfully asked me, "How could you take my hand this time?" 

As my heart shattered into pieces, I returned to the classroom.

But I wasn't really there anymore.

“Mena”

"Hey, are you okay?" As soon as she let go of him, she noticed something was wrong—something had broken in him. He didn't even notice her looking at him anymore.

"I'm sorry." He said that to her, with an emotionless glaze washed over his face. There was no way she could have known what he was apologizing for. It was so stupid. 

However, instead of realizing that, he continued, "I…this is all my fault…I did this to you…" She looked at him, bewildered; it was obvious how worried she was, but she seemed agitated as well. 

"What's wrong?" There wasn't anything he could say to that. All he could do was hide behind the lies he used to manipulate her; he could never tell her the truth. So, you wouldn't dare utter a single word about it, now would you?

"You were just telling me—that you weren't bothered by me telling you how I feel." Even if it made sense. That wouldn’t matter to him. That was what made him preaching to her like that so insufferable. He could never understand something so simple. "Now it's my turn to listen to you. So gimme everything you've got." 

Tears started running down his face, as he put his arms around her back.

What? What’s going on?

We’ve been stuck in this place…for so long…so long that I don’t even know how many times it’s been anymore. 

Is something finally going to change?

"Is it really okay?" He anxiously asked her that while sniffling his nose. As if…he really wanted to tell her everything. 

"Didn't I just tell you? Gimme everything you've got, okay?" Even though his thoughts were all over the place, he knew what he wanted to say, what he wanted to tell her the most. 

I was supposed to stick to the plan, but…well,...it doesn't matter anymore.

"Louise, there's something you need to know." There was a bit of hesitation in his voice, as he nervously met her gaze, and prepared himself for what he was about to say. “I-

All of a sudden, and with no warning, the school bell started to ring, making it impossible to hear what he was about to say.

And once the conveniently long bell ceased its ringing, the room went quiet. It's ridiculous how poorly timed that was, but it would be even more ridiculous to believe it was just a coincidence.

They both stared at each other, awkwardly wondering who would be the first to say something. But it was too late. When the teacher walked into class, Louise went back to her seat, with neither of them getting a chance to say anything.

"Everyone, take out your textbooks to chapter 7." The teacher's voice forced him to stop worrying about it, for now, as he took out a book and stared robotically at its overproduced pages. Every word in every sentence on every page of this book, he had memorized it all.

None of it meant anything to him.

He read it because he was told to.

He's in this world because he was told to.

Maybe he'd finally die if he was told to.

|■■■|

For the rest of the day, nothing else happened between them; he made sure of that. And once school was over, he walked home, as fast as he could. It only took him a few minutes to get there, and now, he was standing in front of his apartment. 

He stood there, silently. For a while.

Eventually, he opened the door and walked inside. He took his shoes off and set down his bag before entering the kitchen and pulled out a knife. He didn't say a word, as he stared at his reflection in it. He wasn't looking at himself, but at something else that was there. Something that shouldn't have been there.

Just as he began moving it up to his throat, it slipped out of his hand…

…and fell to the ground.

He didn't pick it up, though. 

There was no one there to stop him. He'd done it so many times that it didn’t even matter anymore. The pain was the only thing that let him forget, but still, he didn't pick it up.

He went to his room, feeling exhausted, and lied down on his bed, before pulling the sheets over himself. 

As he closed his eyes, he wished to himself that another morning wouldn't come for him. Of course, the only person he could never manage to fool with his lies, was himself.