OVER THE BRIDGE.ㅤ| jjk

eighteen

EIGHTEEN: PAST AND SECRETS

— MEMORY LANE.

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PERSPECTIVE; FIRST PERSON, TAKAHASHI TSUKI

I remember when I first took in your lending hand.

It was cold, I remember. Cold.

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TAPE ONE: ELEMENTARY SCHOOL

I stood in front of a gate. Waiting with a man beside me. Ugly features he had, disgusting. Acquaintance you may call him, though he annoys me. Quite early to be at school, the gate wasn't even open yet. Never understood why he goes to work this early, the counselor he was, the school's. I held a book he lent, "Read this. It's informative," he said. I didn't bother questioning him why, he was my father after all.

School. Nothing happens at school, it's boring. Why do I need to learn about the past if people don't bother changing? Whatever. But I suppose we get to enjoy playing with our friends—friends. I had... two friends I think. I had one in my first year... she ignored me after saying I looked weird. Then I had another last year... I think we stopped hanging out after school, ever since the time she found out about my relation with the guidance teacher—my father. It's fine I suppose, I don't prefer it but I can't change what they view me as. Boring. Bland. Dull-looking.

I walk down the corridors, with my book in hand. It's lunch right now, usually I find an empty classroom for a settling scene. Though, none were free. So here I walk around this over-sized school. I never understood why my father purposefully hushed me to this school, all filled with dumb, rude kids. Enough with the same-aged people, I can't deal enough with their loud voices. I still have the book I got this- Oh? Is that dad? Oh... he's dealing with a crying child. Ha. Good luck with that. But wait. He's actually not doing half bad of a job... the kid is stifling up her fat tears... Huh. I went up a little to get a closer look. Oh- wait- huh-?

He's-... he's smiling?

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TAPE TWO: FAMILY GATHERINGS

So loud. Noisy.

I never understood the chatter of loud crowds, they irritate me. Clanks of spoons and dishes, laughs and claps. They should not have drank beer, it makes them go dumb. But we're here for a supposedly check-up—useless. Here I sit with a gathering of people, sadly this is how my day will end.

"Tsuki. You're almost at the ending of your last year of elementary school. You need to start thinking about your career." my grandfather mentioned.

"Oh, no worries harabeoji*. I'm sure she's willing to take up your name. Like her sister, she's doing a fantastic job keeping up with assignments." mother responded.

"Oh that's lovely to hear! How is Hoshi? Is she doing well? Too bad she couldn't join in today." the old man asked.

"Yes she's doing well. She's been busy with school lately so..."

And there goes the conversation, shifting away to the topic of my sister. In a way, I'm grateful to have her as my way of escaping discussions. Never did I like how they mention futuristic things only. But, it's kind of bittersweet honestly. My sister confuses me. My father confuses me. My feelings confuses me. I don't know if I'm old enough to know how I'm feeling, know how I should feel. I don't like how people say crying helps. It doesn't; it hurts. That's all I know for now—from experience.

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TAPE THREE: OLD SAYINGS

Adults love their quotes and shit. It's annoying how they refer to it, not that the saying is annoying. It's just that, the tone of smartness they use, a hand of gesture, and also their stare. Oh how I hate their stares. Teachers, principles, I'm fine with them using it. It's a spread of knowledge for them I suppose, or it's just how negatively I view the way my family says it. A use in arguments my father does, in casual conversations my grandparents, in a bring about my sister. It's honestly not the quote's fault. I just can't simply disagree any more.

I try—or at least I think I do—be the little good girl my family wants me to be. I don't have an against towards it or anything—as of right now—but- I don't know... It feels as if nothing I do leads towards an answer. I don't know what I want, I don't know what to expect- But, I just hope for an answer, a clear one. I feel like I'm just following an unknown path, only remembering the words and sayings of strangers. They don't mean anything—they don't answer anything. Anything I want.

And here I am, a fourteen year old, just following some random road that I don't even know what the end looks like. —or—at least I don't want to. I- I don't know. It feels as if that's all I've been saying this whole time. —I don't know. All I want to know—what I think I want—a leading path that guides me. I want my own path built, built for me. I want an answer; I need an answer.

Or else I don't know if it's the future that I'll live in.

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TAPE FOUR: BLOOD

It's kind of cruel, to see blood. A red that stains you dark. But luckily, I don't see blood; metaphorically. Green, one that blemished the blue lake. It's an ugly colour, for me. I saw it the day with my grandmother, I think it was the year she died. Oh that lady. She was the nicest to me out of all the members. Too bad she had to stare me with that dumb smile. It was warm—too warm. I don't hold any grudges against her, but it would've been better if she straight up confronted me. Whatever.

I wonder if it would've changed if I had someone who'd see me weep. Well, it doesn't matter now. I hate crying. It stains me green, down my neck to my shirt. The tear crawls, prickles; hurts. I see the clear that carries the colour green. I wonder what caused my hatred, hatred towards green.

Oh, perhaps it was that one time. Yes, I think it was. I was alone I remember, a small child, perhaps seven. I was next to a bridge, my mother left for something. She hasn't been back for hours. And I was sitting there, waiting. Raining it was, next to a green river. The salted drops made it dirty an unpleasant colour. I was staring at it, the whole time. How the fallen tears coloured the blue vast. I was close to crying.

But then my mother came, with my sister. Some reason behind: unfortunate emergency that led to forgetting me. We started heading home, my sister held my hand for some odd reason. A tissue she took out of her pocket,

"Wipe those tears from that ugly expression of yours."

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PERSPECTIVE; THIRD PERSON, AUTHOR

A groan of irritation was heard of the waking student. Tsuki peeked over her lidded eyes, seeing her supposedly friends sleeping soundly.

'They must have had a rough mission before seeing me...'

Night out the day was, specks of lamped buildings. Looking over to her right, there the teacher sat. The grip that held his falling face, waking every few seconds just to strengthen his hold.

'sigh These guys...'

She stared at the barren white desk,

"What... am I going to do..."

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(word count: 1233)

slightly longer chapter for y'all

hope this was not all too confusing

god i hate writing first pov so much

anyways, hope you enjoy the chapter ^^

(heads up ! this story is probably ending in about 4 chapters

but yeah, thank you for the support <33