AN: A story I wrote for my friend, Kae, based off this dinky RP we made. So there's a backstory to all of this, that probably only we would understand.
As I sat there in English Class, Room 345, I heard Mrs. Kawaja ask her students "Where is your favorite place that you have travelled?" Many hands flew to the ceiling, and I was the only one who sat there, silent as the moon. She chose each hand one at a time, listening to the answers my fellow students came up with, and their reasoning on why it was their favorite.
"New York!" A squeaky female voice called out.
"Canada!" Said a ruff and husky male.
"Europe~!" Sang that bitch in the corner.
My eyes scroll around the room, watching as they spoke. Eventually, they close, and I find myself drifting...
There is a house.
There is a house, with a roof that I could not see. It seemed so...never ending. I walked upon the sidewalk, that was painted with familiar memories and chalked on with familiar pictures, giving me a sense of nostalgia. When I reach the door, I noticed it's handle had my name, Katy Stein, engraved into it. 'Peculiar...' I thought to myself, turning the golden handle and entering the house. It didnt occur to me that I shouldnt be entering it. It didnt occur to me that other people might live here, or that I might be unwanted. However, my name was on that handle, and my memories were on that sidewalk, so I must intrude.
I shift myself through all the rooms on the first floor, but there was no one, nor anything, that interested me, so I moved on to the stairs, running up them to the second floor to see what--if anything--would seem intreging.
There is a girl.
There is an infant. A baby girl. She stared at me. Her body is ghost like and see through, as if she were not real.
And then she speaks.
"Hello." A smile finds itself upon her face. "I am You." I stare at her, not shocked that she could speak, nor confused by her statement. Merely craving for her to finish it.
I gave a slight nod as a response. "What is this place...?" I ask, looking up at the roof that I could not see. I merely saw a seemingly endless amount of stairs.
The baby Me speaks. "This is your mind. This house holds your memories." Memories? She continues. "On each floor of your Mind, you will see and meet a new You, an older You."
I nodded. "So, if you are Me, what do you represent?" I ask. She seemed amused, or rather, impressed by my question. This was my mind, wasnt it? So shouldnt I know what I would like to ask it?
"I am the baby You." Duh. "I represent your first set of memories. What you first remember is your parents ugly divorce." Ah, yes. I can still remember it. My parents left each other before I turned the age of one. It's complicated, really. Mother smoked and got addicted to drugs. She stole and went to jail many times. Father got abusive to her, yelling that she had shamed our family. I first questioned how I remembered this, but I fugred since I was travelling into my mind, I could see anything I have seen, hear anything I have heard, and remember anything I had once known.
"I see..." Mumbled I. I turned my back, leaving the baby me there, so I could walk up the next flight of stairs. Each time I did, I would meet a new me, an older me, who would tell me stories of my memories that I had once forgotten. Some of them had only one memory, like baby Me. Others, had wild stories, hundreds of memories to tell me, things they experienced in that one year of my age.
As I passed to the next flight of stairs, going to the next floor. There, I met... Me? Not a younger me, or older me, but a present day Me! When I asked her of her purpose, she told me memories that she new of. Some of them, I could clearly and vividly remember. Others, vaguely. But then she stopped. I looked at her confused.
"Why did you stop?" I ask. "You didnt get to December yet! Therefore, you havent finished all the memories!" She giggled. Did I REALLY giggle like that? How... obnoxious.
"I stopped, because I am You. the real, present day you. The You of the now. /YOU/..." She pointed to me, referring to not herself, a ghostly memory, but the real me. "... havent finished this year, therefore, I cant tell you anymore." She had stopped at me, dozing off in English class. It all made sense now! Why the house never seemed to end... Because it didnt! If I go up any more stairs, they would just continue, and I would never meet the end of them, nor see a new floor. Because I had just reviewed, and heard of, all my memories, stories, and adventures.
I look up at the ceiling, which again, I could not see. "Long way to go, eh...." I whisper to myself. I was only a teen, not even halfway to the end of my life--or so I dearly hoped--. It would take awhile before I got to the roof.
The house faded to black.
I open my eyes, and Im back in the classroom. Mrs. Kawaja is looking at me. "I asked you what your favorite adventure was." I paused.
"...My journey through my mind."
The class looked confused.
The teacher smiled.
How the hell did this happen? How is it that I, Ikuto Tsukiyomi, was taking a long stroll around the neighborhood, with Tadase Hotori? THE Tadase! The very BOY that I once despised? Oh. That's right.
Amu did it.
She had called me earlier this morning, asking if we could talk. I could tell by her tone that she was serious. I'll be honest, I was kind of hoping she was going to admit her secret crush on me. Hey. I can dream can't I?
None the less, I took Yoru–much to his annoyance– and ran to her house. She just so happened to have called out little blonde over as well. I couldn't help but smirk when he stuck his tongue at me, like the little child he was.
What was it that Amu said again? Oh. Right. "Today, we are all going on a date!" All three of us? "All three of us!" All three of us. Shit. I'm pert sure I heard Tadase groan at that. That blonde little snot….
Of course, sometime in the middle of our so called date, one of her friends–pumpkin hair, pigtails, abnormally short with an obnoxious voice–had told Amu that there was a huge sale going on at the mall, and dragged Amu away. Yoru and Kiseki went along as well, leaving the two of us. I was about to walk away, but Tadase said something that stopped me.
"Please don't leave me!"
I gave him an odd look, suspicious of his next motive. Why? Why should I stay? Something about the way he was looking at me told me to. His big blue eyes looked… longing, perhaps.
And that's how it happened. That's how at this very moment, I was walking along side Tadase, the very boy I used to despise. He hadn't talked much since that moment. A little small chit chat, nothing more.
I decided to change that.
"Tadase, speak up. Explain why you wanted me to walk with you." He looked up at me innocently, then smiled an annoyingly cute smile.
"Because Ikuto, I wanted to make up with you." What? I looked at him like he was deranged. He noticed how weird his sentence sounded, then added to it. "A-ah! I mean't…. Become…. Friends again…" How strange.
He bit his lip. I noticed he was… blushing, maybe? "Well… Because everything is over. The fighting, Easter, just… everything! We should get back to be friends, right?" He looked up at me, as if to plead me to agree. Admittedly, I did miss the times when we were kids. When I played violin for Utau and Tadase, when we chased each other… But could it really be that easy? To just forgive? I stared at him silently. For a second, I thought I saw a loss of hope in his eyes.
I rolled mine.
"I guess…I could… give it a shot…" I muttered quietly. He glowed. "R-really?!" I stumbled back once he gave me a tight hug with his noodle arms. Ngh. Somehow, I knew I would regret this one day.
He looked up at me confused. "W-what…?"
I smirked. "It's kind of cute, y'know…? How you just /pleaded/ me to be your friend. You're such a child." His mouth gaped. He looked like he just found out Santa Claus wasn't real (…Shit. Please tell me little children didn't just read that). "I-I am not!" He said, obviously noticing that stuttering only helped my case.
I continued to tease him. "… MEN just talk to me, casually build up a friendship. You get all flustered. My my, Tadase, do you have a /crush/ on me?" I'd swear he was blushing so hard, steam was about to come out of his ears.
"N-no! No! No! Ew!"
Did… Did he just say ew? Did he just fucking say EW? I scowled and thumped his forehead multiple times. "What's so EW about that?!?!" I cursed at myself once I raged at him. Because now he was smirking at me.
"Ewww…. You're too /old/." He said snidely to me. Old?! I-I'm not old! "You're like my dad's age!" Obviously exaggerating, but I got his point. I growled. "Oh really?!"
He nodded. "Daddy~" He was calling me Daddy. Hell it. I knew I would regret this.
"Well, Daddy thinks you should be punished for your back talk!" I didn't know why I just said that, but suddenly Im turning him around, and slapping him hard on his ass. A spank. I spanked him.
Tadase cried out. "I-Ikuto…!" Oh? So he didn't like that? Well then. I spanked him again and again and again. At this point, he was crying. Crying out loud, and pleading for me to stop. The crying got to me, sadly. I sighed, taking a step back. "Fine…" I mutter. Tadase sniffled at me. He whimpered and reached his arms out to me. Oh. Oh no way. He wanted to fucking cuddle me. Ngh.
I sighed and sat down on the bench, tapping my lap. "Get on…" I groan. He does so, hugging me, and adjusting himself on my lap so he wouldn't be uncomfortable. Tadase buried his head into my neck. A weak 'I'm sorry…' came from his lips. I patted his soft hair, like he was a chihuahua dog.
So today in Algebra, we were doing an experiement, involving balloons. As you might have guessed, I started to get anxious, my heart pounded against my chest, as if to rip it open at any moment. I walked to Mr. Holman, the teacher, asking and pleading if I could leave the room for the experiment. He asked me what was wrong, and I simply replied "I'm afraid of balloons." He have me the strangest look, as if to question my mental statability. He told me that everything would be fine. Oh how I wished I could take his word, I begged for him to be correct. But of course...
He was not.
Only minutes after the experiment had begun, paranoia had slowly consumed me from inside out, leaving nothing but the carcus of a scared teenager. I pleaded him once again, if I could leave the room. He didn't seemed annoyed by my constant question, but persistent to keep me locked in the classroom, as if I'd actually learn something from this experiment. Yes, My. Holman. I did learn something. Three years ago, when I did the same experiment in my science class.
"Please, Mr. Holman! I'm getting really paranoid, I feel like I can't breathe.."
"Katy, everything will be alright. You aren't going to die. These balloons can't harm you in anyway. Just take a few deep breathes and calm yourself." He gave me a generally caring smile, as if that one facial expression would be enough to regain my strength to be at peace. It didn't really work, but so I didn't irriate him, I simply walked back to my seat, watching my group sa they continud to inhale helium, just for the hell of their "I-sound-like-I'm-high" voices.
I respected Mr. Holman. He really isn't that bad of a teacher. Actually, he is quite good at his job. I dont think any math teacher has been able to make me understand things so quickly. So I decided to try to trust him. I told myself peaceful and calming words. And it seemed at the moment I was the slightest bit remotely calm....
A loud noise erupted through the room, forever echoing in my ear drum. A balloon had popped. Mr. Holman was wrong! I knew something would happen! Some had gasped, others had laughed... I had screamed and curled up in the corner of the room, shaking and shivering. No one seemed to notice.
It was only minutes later that another balloon had popped. At this point, I was on a level red state of panic. Vision was blurring. Heart was thrusting. Body was tense. I was seeing colors flash all over the place. Why did I feel so cold...? Why was I feeling numb in my fingers?
Ngh. I felt faint.
The bell rang. End of class. Phew.
I forced myself to my feet and shakily walked over to the desk that held up my binder. I sent Mr. Holman a "look". He laughed nervously and apologized. I gave a standard "You-better-be-sorry" nod, and left.