Tale of Redemption

Chapter 1 : First Day

"Since we cannot change reality, let us change the eyes which see reality."

-Nikos Kazantzakis

THERE was nothing better than watching an anime with a cup of chamomile at six in the morning to annoy your roommate. I was more of a morning person anyway.

"It was good while it lasted. We eased each other's boredom for quite a while. Well, Light, it's been interesting." Ryuk, a character in Death Note, spoke sickenly sweet. It had to be my most favorite anime, if not both of my only friends' favorites.

"Why are you rewatching Death Note? I thought you finished it last night for the fifth time," My sleepy violet-eyed friend, Alli, said as she walked down the staircase.

"I had nothing else to do, and I don't go to school anymore, so what else would I do?" I replied quietly. "It's also Saturday."

"It's also your birthday. You're eighteen, Ayumi." Alli muttered as she walked into the kitchen. I got up and followed her.

"Did you invite Real over?"

"Do I need to? He walks in this place like he lives here. He's coming." She gave a small scoff playfully as her bowl of cereal was yearning for moisture. Stale.

"True. I hope you didn't get me a present. I don't need anything, not really."

"Maybe a boyfriend? Just kidding. Go take a shower. It's already ten, and Real makes a point to be here a quarter before eleven." I complied and walked upstairs to the bathroom, and quickly undressed. I decided since it was just us, a quick shower would be suitable for the occasion. Slipping on my bathrobe, I walked down the hall to my bedroom, which used to be the guest room.

The wallpaper was a pale green, with floral designs on it. There was a twin bed in the corner, with cream sheets and a lavender pillow. Against the wall leaned a tall mirror, and beside it was a mahogany dresser that was half its size. I opened a window, because my room was humid and uncomfortably warm. After slipping on a grey skirt and a white sweater with a tree on it, I put my hair in a fish-tail braid with a red rose behind my ear, almost a trademark of mine, it was so common of me to do.

"Real is here! Hurry down, we've got a surprise." Alli's voice rang up the stairs. I quickly slipped on a pair of mismatching socks and slid down the stairs, going too quick. Unable to catch myself, I did a somersault straight down the staircase and into the front door, twisted and constrained upside down like a pretzel, except the bakers just decided to make a whole bunch of knots instead.

"Ayumi, was that you-" My friends looked down at me, one of them giggling, the other silently staring in his eerie way. I got up quickly and sighed.

"Sorry. I slipped down the stairs, wasn't paying much attention."

"Tch..." Real muttered. It wasn't a surprise he was not subtly showing his disapproval. It was more or less a day-to-day thing.

"At least you aren't hurt. Now we can have some pizza and cake!"

"Shouldn't we at least wait until Michael and his. . .friend, gets here?" Our lanky companion, more like moderator, interrupted. Alli's face washed over with realization.

"Oh no! I feel terrible, almost forgot about him." She shook her head violently. Before I could suppress her emotions, there was a knock at the door, and a cheery smile was waiting behind it.

.                 .                   .

"And so I said, 'Cleo, you can't just say that to her', but she obviously didn't care, and went ahead and spat it right in the teacher's face!"  The golden-eyed boy laughed softly at his own story while taking a sip of his Diet Coke.  His counterpart, the girl in the story, scrunched up her nose in giggles, remembering the memory.  We, in turn, took our own share of laughs and cackles.  A huge platter of pizza and cans of various soft drinks set on the coffee table as some bizarre 90's sitcom murmured on the TV. 

"I can't believe I haven't met you at school before, Cleo! You said you have Calc with Real, right?" I asked politely.

"Yeah.  I'm really quiet, actually. . . Don't like to mingle with those weird kids." Cleo's silver stare eased as her sarcastic statement reached Real's ears.

"H-Hey, I'm not weird! . . .People are just ridiculously underminded of someone like me..." He crossed his arms.  Patting his back, I spoke to him condescendingly. "Aw, it's okay, Real, some people just never get past 10 followers on Twitter..."  He took a large bite out of a Hawaiian slice of pizza with a swig of Pepsi.  "Ha....ha......very funny."

I stood up, and stretched my arms.  Swerving to the right, my back popped.

"Do you mind stretching and damaging your tendons and other various muscular system related items in your body elsewhere?" Real muttered.  "Sorry, this is a nice spot where I can annoy you the best." 

When I rotated to the other side, I caught a glimpse of a tall, lanky figure around the side of the staircase, watching us eerily.  From his silhouette it appeared he wore a long coat of a fashion and lingered his gaze, locked with mine.  He vanished seconds later.

"Anyone else see that?" I shrugged, asking awkwardly. "Okay, I've just got first-stage schizophrenia. Not a big deal." Alli's eyes darted uneasily behind me, and gripped the styrofoam cup in her hand.

"Probably just your imagination.  You've been known to have nightmares, and cry deep into the night," Real nudged me with his elbow. "Right?"

"Yeah.  Oh wait, weren't you talking about yourself? Sorry, I think you got confused."

Even though we brushed it off as nothing, I still felt a pair of piercing eyes boring through my skull.  Being in this house for so many years, you'd think I'd know every secret by now...