After School

1.1 Yuta

September 3, 1946

He was kneeling in the sand, his eyes moving from the coast to stone, from rock pools to breaking waves. In the gentle spring sunshine he felt as if he were swimming in the briny aroma, as if the new rays of the day brought a frisson of energy to his finger tips. The gulls brought their beaks to the percussion of pebbles at the shoreline. It was a day for dreaming, for allowing time to move fast and slow.

He picked up a withering stick, that appeared bony and sharp like a witch. He carved coarse lines in the sand, allowing his hands to fly freely like a bird as he turned and swished the stick. He felt as if his mind was directing his hand, moving instinctively to the right spot and building a picture he had never seen before.

He peered down at the image he created. Three lines connected each other to form a triangle. A line shot through the middle.

He felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked up and saw a figure standing behind him. Dark robes spilled from her lanky body, the excess fabric swishing in the breeze. The ocean air tousled her raven black hair, that was tied loosely in a bun. Her crooked nose sneered down at him like a hawk's beak and her hollow cheeks frightened the boy. The miniature details of her face were hazy and blurred, but he could definitely see her piercing violet eyes. His heart beat rapidly as a sense of familiarity washed over him, similar to the movements of the serene waves in front of him washing the sandy coast.

He tried to open his mouth to speak, but his movements were restricted. Only his eyes had the freedom to roam around the woman in front of him. He watched as she kneeled beside him, digging her bony knees in the sand. She gracefully snatched the stick from the young boy's hand and curled her skeletal fingers around the base. She crushed the stick in the sand and started moving it, writing around his drawing.

He averted his gaze from the strange woman and glanced at the picture below him. Everything he previously drew remained the same, however the woman added some markings that resembled numbers. He squinted his eyes and read the numbers that were scrawled below his triangle. 9/3/46 it read in shaky handwriting.

He flickered his black eyes towards the woman beside him, his body still paralyzed. The woman craned her neck to meet his gaze, and cracked a wicked smile.

"You're a witch, Yuta."

~~~

Yuta gasped and swiftly sat up in his bed. Though his eyes jerked open, he had trouble recollecting himself and his empty mind debated whether he was in a lucid state or not. Sweat trickled down his forehead and his heart pounded rapidly. He spun his head around and absorbed the familiar area that was his bedroom. He clutched the duvet with clammy hands as his brain cogs slowly resumed their spinning.

Why am I recalling that day now? he wondered, panting.

He glanced across his quaint room and read the grandfather clock that stared at him in an uncanny way as if it envisioned the boy's nightmare too. His eyes strained into the partially dark room and read the clock. I must leave for school now, he reminded himself as he internally groaned. His breathing began to steady as he hastily hopped out of bed and dressed, clutching onto his dark secret with a firm grip.

Once he arrived at school, Yuta stood in the middle of the courtyard and stared up at the strange building. The school sent a chill down his spine but he couldn't quite pin what exactly was eerie about it. He studied the extremely large Victorian-style building, wanting to prolong his entrance. There was a huge spiky black gate at the entrance behind him, and barely any living plants grew underfoot. Tall towers were placed at every corner and Yuta was pulled in by them, curious as to what treasure could be found within. From the corner of his eyes, a shadowy figure stared at him through one of the black-tinted windows.