Kanashibari

February 15, 2181

Dearest Mother,

I'm not sure where to start with this journal entry, but suffice to say this morning was very strange. Well okay, life in general has been pretty weird since I started having those bloody seizures. But this takes the cake. I'm beginning to think that doctor who finally suggested I find an exorcist may have been onto something. This is too scary!

It seemed a typical morning and all when I woke up, though it looked a bit overcast through the window. The problem was when I went to get up, and found that I couldn't. My initial thought was that I'd cramped something in my sleep and just couldn't sit up, so I figured I'd just roll onto my side and raise up on my arm. But I couldn't move a muscle! I was completely paralyzed.

I didn't quite panic yet, as I was half convinced I might still be asleep and dreaming. But I was having difficulty breathing; it felt like there was some weight on my chest. It was when I heard a deep, rumbling growl by my feet that I started to wig out little. I rolled my eyes wildly, trying to get a glimpse of what was going on at the foot of the bed. How the hell did a dog get into my flat? It sounded huge. I wanted to kick it away, anything, and of course I couldn't. Worse than the idea of a vicious dog loose in the room with me was the feeling of hundreds of small legs now skittering across my bare ankles. And then I heard the sound that nearly turned my insides to water.

It was very faint, but I could hear high-pitched feminine laughter. "Ehehehe..."

People tell me they sense the supernatural about me, but no one seems to agree on one thing. Some have said a blind Chinese ghost, others have mentioned a black dog, and still others say that it's a woman with long black hair. For a long time I didn't really believe it; I mean, honestly, if I really was possessed, I couldn't have that many ghosts attached to me, could I?

But it explained a lot. Like the blackouts, and the bruises and cuts I seem to get out of nowhere for one thing. Hell, I didn't know what to believe anymore, but at that point I was seriously pondering that haunted option, let me tell you.

The tightness in my chest was suddenly stronger, and I wanted to wince from the pain. There was a flash of light and a whiff of ozone, which I haven't smelled since I took that brief trip through Zepp. A female figure blinked into existence, straddling my chest. She flickered around the edges, like a recorded image from the days when blacktech was common in every home. She cocked her head, looked down at me with resentful curiosity.

Was this the woman supposedly haunting me?

Her skin was corpse white, and her eyes red from weeping and shining with malevolence. Her long black hair hung heavy with water, dripping onto my face as she hovered over me. Horrified as I was, I saw that even in death she retained a rough beauty, in her high cheekbones and gracile neck.

"You can see beauty in this?" I could hear her thoughts as clearly as if she spoke, and caught her scorn.

I watched helplessly as she smiled at me. Her grin was wide and dreadful, her mouth stretching literally ear to ear as if it had been cut, showing off teeth and quite a bit of jawbone. Her head lolled suddenly against her chest as if her neck had been broken, and she eyed me mockingly.

"Tell me I'm beautiful now." She grasped one of her breasts with her hand, squeezing it forcefully. "Tell me how much you've been looking for a woman like me. After all, that's all you care about, isn't it? Finding love?" She sneered. "Love is a lie men use on weak women." Her cracked lips regained their normal shape, and she raised her head again to sit properly on her neck. Her bitterness was palpable. "They all deserve to suffer. Suffer like I did."

I couldn't speak at all, couldn't defend myself from her jeering. I just looked up into that rictus of a smile, feeling nauseated with dread. Any doubts I had over the existence of ghosts were gone; this girl was very real and most assuredly not a bad dream. But why was she haunting me? I couldn't think of anything I had done to piss off any ghosts. And I had no clue who she was, who she had been. There was a faint flickering in one corner of my mind, and I could see her name. I mentally pounced on that fragment, remembering the old wives' tale about gaining power over spirits by naming them. I twitched, tried to free myself from her influence, and rasped out, "Su... Suzuki Megu-"

"DON'T CALL ME THAT." The words seared into my brain, and her ragged nails dug into my shoulders. "The woman who bore that name is dead. I remain. Alone. Alone. He left me. Left me to suffer for him."

And I knew what had happened to her. She didn't exactly tell me, it was like when I caught her name; less words and more like images. She had a lover once, and they truly doted on eachother. They squatted together in a flat in London, while around them street gangs fought over turf. Her young man took it upon himself to clean up the town, which he had loved since his childhood. He got it to the point where things looked perfectly rosy, the fighting seemed to have stopped, and people were able to walk through the neighborhood fearlessly.

Then the lad vanished.

One day he simply up and disappeared, leaving no trace. She pined for him, waiting for him to return. Apparently she was the only one who missed him, or even realized he was gone; some of the local thugs thought he was laying low, planning some kind of coup, and one night a few of them grabbed her on her way home from the university. They killed her as an example, knocking her unconcious and tossing her down a well. Later when these bastards were questioned they said yes, they had seen her earlier that day, but she was pissed drunk out of mourning, and wasn't it a shame she'd tumbled when she had?

So. Her death was written off as a suicide. But to those who knew such things, it was clearly a message to her man. Or it would have been, if anyone could find him.

"He said he loved me but he left me behind," she said softly. "Left me alone to wait and die and rot for him."

I closed my eyes, feeling the tears well, and my heart ached. I was hurting for this poor girl, this lonely, tormented soul. With a huge force of will, I opened my eyes and tried to make myself speak again.

"Meg-er, Miss S," I faltered, my voice barely above a whisper, "It distresses me that your life was cut short like that, that you feel so betrayed. I want you to know that some people can be trusted, and truly believe love does exist in the world. Therefore, if you want to use my body now and then, please do so. "

That surprised her, I could tell. Her brow furrowed in curiosity, and in that unguarded instant, she was beautiful. All boiling emotion gone, I saw the lovely young woman she had been, and I felt the briefest flutter in my heart. Finally she curled her lips into a spiteful little smirk and made a derisive noise.

"Hhn. It's not like you have a choice; I like this body of yours too much to give it up." The pressure on my chest eased, and her solidness lessened. She slowly began to sink into me. It was disturbing as hell to watch. She paused just before she disappeared completely, gazing into my face. "I will be here, watching." That girlish giggle again. "Ehehe. Neither of us will ever be alone again."

Then she was gone.

And I could move.

So I'm sitting here in the kitchen now, having my coffee before breakfast and writing this out while it's fresh in my mind. Which brings me to something I've been regretting since I said it.

Why the hell did I ask her to stay? I don't know why. No, not true; she was so very sad and angry, and I can't bear to see any woman that way. Poor Miss S. Hopefully someday I'll be able to help lay her to rest.

I want to spend the rest of my days with female companionship, but this is not what I'd had in mind.

Until later, Mother,

Zappa

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Author's notes: Eh, I feel like a hypocrite because I didn't want to post this here. But then again I wanted fans of the GG series to be able to read and appreciate it. Hopefully you enjoyed it. And if you've read this far you've know that I'm a subscriber to the conspiracy theory that S-ko is Megumi. "L"