Marionette

Nozomi Fujihara had a death wish. It was insane to put it that way, sure, but was no other way to put it. No flowery way to sugarcoat it, to soften it. It was the truth…Even if the truth often isn’t what you want to hear.

“Am I really doing this?”
The question slipped out of Nozomi’s mouth and faded into the cool autumn air. Her brows furrowed. Somehow, she had ended up here again, alone, isolated from the world beneath her. She shivered in the cold. The sky was dull, casting a miserable shadow on the school and its students. She stood upon the school’s roof, her schoolbag abandoned, lying on the ground – its contents spilt out over the weathered slate. The world appeared before her in shades of grey, colourless, drained by the demon of her mind. It confused her. Twisted her thoughts until her mind was left in a cloudy haze of questions. How could you feel so isolated amongst a crowd? Feel nothing, and at the same time too much? Perhaps she was going mad, for she never cried, never broke. She just carried on: a marionette in a sea of people.

She blinked, grounded herself to the grey slate of the roof as she sighed softly, a breeze blowing through her ebony locks.
“Oh...”
She took a step closer, as her toes lined the edge, scuffing the worn down rock. This could be it. She could be free of all her pain, the betrayal, the anxiety. She wanted freedom, freedom from that thing that haunted her. This was her decision…wasn’t it? She bit her lip. She wanted this for herself…right? She could be cremated, her ashes spread to the wind. Maybe she could finally find that freedom she desired.
Her breathing was steady even as her heart raced, her chestnut eyes drained and lifeless. It was all make-believe anyway. A mask she put on to hide away from the world. It was too easy now, as if it were second nature. Who was she really? The nice kid? The nerd, the troublemaker, the rebel? What version of Nozomi was real? Did it even matter? She watched the last students trickle out. Their mindless chatter was indistinguishable from where Nozomi stood: a little blob in the void beneath her, oblivious to Nozomi, to her world she was entrapped within.

“Why don’t you jump already? You’re wasting time. Or maybe you’re just too scared.”

The demon whispered in her mind, taunting. Its words pulled her closer to the edge. To oblivion. It didn’t need to. She was already there, teetering at the line between life and death. Nozomi couldn’t recall days where it hadn’t been there; the darkness of her mind people never saw, never wanted to see. There were days when it was in full control, pulling the strings of her limp body. When it was, she couldn’t think, couldn’t escape, watching her life unfold from a distance, trapped in a mental cage. There, yet not really there. Nothing but a mindless marionette for it to toy with. Her mind living through an endless nightmare. It left her breathless, vulnerable, alone. Yet no one could see it. And no-one ever would.

Her hands moved absentmindedly to her wrist, the skin broken and scabbing. Her nails dug into skin, drawing out new blood. She looked down again and waited for tears to fall, but they never came. Wishing to be able to cry was a strange thought. Her wrist throbbed, the pain like a poison that burnt her veins. Yet also her drug, as she craved more, like a beast craved blood, craved the thrill and power on a moonlit night; it was never enough. She ran a hand through her unruly hair and tugged at the ebony locks as her breathing became more erratic. Why wasn’t it enough?

“…H-hi...?” A child’s voice, small and timid, cut through her thoughts.
Nozomi turned, her feet almost slipping. She had imagined it, surely…she was on a high-school roof, a child couldn’t possibly…
“What…?” She felt her breath leave her body as her eyes widened, seeing a girl with eyes of chestnuts and hair of ink stood beside her, staring out into the gloomy skyline of monotone grey. Their eyes were wide, bright, a child-like innocence lingering inside them. The world hadn’t beaten her…yet. Nozomi’s heart twinged with bitterness as she looked upon the child, a constant reminder of everything she’d lost, that she’d once been. The child looked familiar…too familiar. Remembering the child’s greeting, she responded, her voice hoarse and dry,
“Hey…um…” An endless storm of words swirled through her mind as she tried to pick a string of words out, the child gazing up at Nozomi curiously. “What’s your…name?” The girl blinked for a moment, seeming to choose her words carefully.
“Nozomi…” She paused. “Why do you look at me like that?”
The other is caught off guard and stared at the small child, her pupils dilated. Perhaps she truly was going insane, loopy. People’s past selves don’t just appear in front of them…right? Her mouth moved without thinking, overwhelmed by the thoughts of the past, of memories both good, and bad. How…how young were they?
“Look at you…how?”
The child’s voice is sullen, their eyes not meeting the older’s gaze. “Like you hate me.”
“I don’t.” Her voice was uncertain, her heart palpitating unevenly, an irregular drumbeat.
“Really?” The child’s voice was sceptical, yet their eyes light up with a little spark as they looked up at the older.
“I don’t hate you and, I never will,” the older said as she looked the smaller in the eyes, her voice steadier, a certainty behind it that wasn’t there before. She hated how pitiful the smaller looked, the lack of control. She wanted to run away from it all, to feel the wind in her hair, the blood pumping in her ears. Instead, she was standing at the edge, stationary, a statue in a snow globe, unable to go beyond the confinements of glass.
“Why are you up here? It’s dangerous to be on a school roof.”
The question seemed to echo, though in truth, it was no louder than any other words before it. Why was she up here? …To jump. To die. To put an end to all her misery and pain with a single action. My action…not my demon’s, Nozomi thought bitterly.
“I gave up.” Nozomi replied.
“But…don’t you have any dreams, something you want to achieve?”
Nozomi’s mind flashed back to memories once forgotten, as she smiled forlornly.
“Maybe once. Now…Now I’m a little lost.”
“That’s impossible! Everyone has dreams! You know…I want to be a writer.”
“A writer…?” She smiled bitterly, for she knew of her dream. It seemed like a beautiful thing at first, however, it had been destroyed and warped into something rotten, ugly. It had been walked upon and scorned. It was dead. Long dead.

***

The young girl sat beside her best friend, who talked in hushed whispers as Nozomi listened intently, content to let the other do the talking.
“Nozomi? It’s your turn now.” The teacher spoke from the corner of the room as she smiled encouragingly at the 7-year-old
She stood, walking to the front of the class as she turned to face her peers. Her body hunched in on itself, shrinking under their gazes, each like fire burning holes into her. Her ebony hair covered one of her eyes as she met the gaze of her friend, their emerald eyes striking and bold. They gave her a thumbs up, smiling as Nozomi took a deep breath and steeled herself.
“I-I…want to be a writer…” Her words were followed by silence. Her voice started out quiet, shaky, but as she continued, it grew more confident with each word. Her eyes remained fixed upon emerald green ones, as she fought for her passion that lit a fire within her, the embers of hope.
“I want to be a writer so that I can create a world for people to escape to, to make the words and stories in my head real.” She looked up at their classmates, her eyes blazing determinedly. “I…I want to make sure no one is ever lonely again.” There was silence, before laughter and snickers rose up from the others, as they mercilessly shamed her dream.
“She’s gone cuckoo!”
“-bet they think that she can be famous.”
“I’m surprised she can even speak, she’s so quiet, she might as well not exist!”
And so, their comments went on and on, belittling, ignorant, critical words that gnawed their way into the girl’s heart, eating away at the edges. Her gaze dropped to the floor as her cheeks burned. That was a stupid thing to say she thought. Why didn’t I think before I said it…now I’ve made a fool of myself. Clapping her hands, the teacher called the room to silence as Nozomi slipped into her seat, laying her head on the desk, their words echoing in her mind.
“They’re right you know?”
Nozomi turned around, looking for the person who had spoken, only to meet the eyes of the boy behind her. His eyes were a beautiful cerulean blue, yet his mouth was twisted in a cruel smirk, as he circled his fingers around his head.
“Cuckoo,” he mouthed, as she turned back to her desk, making herself smaller, wishing to disappear from this room entirely. From this place.
Her friend looked at her worriedly, and took Nozomi’s hand in hers, gripping it tightly.
“Don’t listen to them, I’m sure you’re going to make an amazing writer!” Nozomi nodded, but the darkness within her heart didn’t disappear.
“Who are you…” She murmured, but she was left in silence, the voice gone from her mind.
Nozomi smiled sadly as she remembered Haru. She had been her only friend throughout middle, but they had fallen out of touch - going to different high schools, living different lives. Haru didn’t need her anymore…Nozomi wished she could say the same about Haru. Maybe that was the day…Nozomi thought, watching her younger self - yet unable to reach them, to touch them - that their demon came to exist…or maybe had been there all along. A darkness, a fault within her forever present. Perhaps it was just waiting for the day it would get to claim it’s precious marionette.

***

The memory before her disappeared, replaced by a dark shadowy figure sat upon a throne of darkness towering over her. Red strings wrapped around each finger, each connected to Nozomi, to the demon’s little marionette. Her breath hitched, caught in their throat like a jackrabbit in a trap.
“Leave me alone…” She managed to choke out, her voice a barely making a sound. Pathetic. It’s mouth twisted up into a grin, distorted and broken as it spoke, its voice more like an echo, a whisper, and yet it made Nozomi’s voice run cold as every nerve in her body told her to run, but there was nowhere…nowhere she could go.
“IT’s…OnlY…A…MatTer…oF…TiMe.”
Darkness enclosed her, blinded her, suffocated her. There was no escape, she truly was at the mercy of their demon.

***

Nozomi felt a sharp tug on the cuffs of her navy blazer. The rooftop swam into view as the younger one looked up at her, their chestnut eyes speckled with gold, their brows furrowed.
“A-Are you alright? Why are you crying?”
“H-huh?”
She put a hand to her cheek; it was damp with tears, and her eyes widened, yet she smiled softly at the child, trying to find the right words to reassure them.
“I’m...” What do they say? The first words that came to Nozomi’s mind were that she was tired. For once she want to give in to all the noise in her head…yet she doesn’t, instead feeling a strange sense of protectiveness over the younger one, as if to shield them from the harshness of reality, if only for these few moments.
“I’m…fine.”
The young girl nodded, seemingly unsure as she bit their lip before asking, her voice soft,
“Do I…Am I still trying to be a writer?”
Nozomi faltered, her breath catching in her throat. How could she tell her the truth. The truth about what had happened to their dream…it was lost; lost to time, to darkness, to her demon. But…it was her dream, was it not? Could it not be rekindled, the dying embers growing into a flame? So instead, she responded with neither the truth, nor a lie; a vision of hope, or one of loss.
“…Maybe.”
The younger one frowned slightly, before a smile lit up their face in a way only a child’s smile can. One that turned them into little balls of happiness.
“Well, that’s good enough for me! There’s always hope right?”
The elder one turned away, looking toward the dipping sun. The clouds cleared as golden rays brought their surroundings colour once more. Nozomi stood in shadows, the other in light. One worn away by time, the other yet to discover hardship. The elder sighed softly, taken aback by the beauty of it all. It was ethereal, as if she would wake up any moment and it would be gone, yet a sad smile appeared on her face as she reached out - the light just hitting her fingertips.
“But hope is such a fickle thing, is it not?”
She was met with silence, looking back to emptiness. The younger one was gone, having made peace with their elder self. They had laid to rest, yet Nozomi could feel her heart beating wildly in her chest, like a butterfly desperate to break free. Her mind was a mess of darkness and light, of chaos yet hope...but maybe…maybe it wasn’t too late. Maybe there was a chance to change things. Maybe this wasn’t the only way to freedom.
She took one last look down, the desire to jump still in her mind, yet buried deeper down. She walked away from the roof, turning away from the skyline. Turning away from the darkness, her thoughts that told her every reason why she should. But she wouldn’t. She promised herself. She couldn’t let that child inside of her die again. She couldn’t kill them more than she already had.
Hope is such a fragile thing, a delicate ray of light, an ember easily smouldered. It grinned, letting its strings fall loose. Nozomi could run, but how far would the marionette go before it falls once more to the darkness in her heart. And so, the demon of Nozomi’s mind whispered once more before falling silent.
“You might win today, but I will always be here my little marionette. It’s only a matter of time.”