3rd June, 2015
Dear YOU. Before you continue reading this story, I want to point out a few important things. This work is fairly old, and I'm not a native English speaker. Over the years however, I have improved a lot. I think other writers will agree with the feeling of wanting to hide when it comes to their old works, but at the same time, I do take pride in my improvement. I also don't want to take my works down, because I know some people enjoyed them regardless back in the day.

So please just be aware that what you're about to read does not at all portray my writing abilities today. Thank you, and enjoy!


With the life I'm living now, it seems so hard and wrong to take another breath. I do not have breathing issues, but it appears much easier and right to simply stop inhaling the air. And yet, when I wander the streets, realization always makes me feel ashamed, making me mentally insult myself. It is true that I have no real home, but seeing those exhausted homeless men and women by the corners makes me realize that my current life could easily be worse. Opposite of most, I have a dry place to sleep at night; a shack. A lonesome, dark shack, forgotten by whoever owned it once. It's not much, but it's more than enough for me.

Who am I? A question I cannot answer myself anymore. Though I know my identity, I don't feel like I know myself. I'm a Japanese girl by the name of Mion, and if I'm not much wrong, I turned seventeen last summer. If that's the case, then it's been three years since everything went the other way. My memories often start to invade my mind, but I always distract myself with other thoughts to avoid remembering. Yet for once, I take a deep breath and prepare to let my mind play it all for me, from the beginning, just like when someone watches a movie from the start…

I was so sick and tired of Shion, my twin sister. She was always doing her best to interfere in my life at points where she should stay away. True, true, we are sisters and family, but that doesn't give her any right to pretend to be me and speak with my friends - and more importantly, speak with the boy I can't deny I secretly love.

It had all begun when she started to read my diary - a girlish thing to have for a tomboy like me, but that doesn't matter. I had yelled at her the first time I caught her red-handed, but she had just smiled at me, saying I needed advice if I was to 'get him'. I growled at her, telling her to stay out of it all, literally ending with forcing her to promise me to leave me alone - forcing her with violence. She kept her 'promise' for some time, but soon enough she started to go to town, her hair and clothing matching mine. I saw her once or twice talking with 'him' from the window in my part-time job, but those times I felt powerless to do anything. Yet this time, I had caught her flirting with him, whispering to him tenderly. Something in my already-breaking heart exploded when she loosened her hair, resembling her usual self; I could tell she was revealing who she really was, and I quickly darted out from the toy store, shouting at her, demanding her to tell me what she was doing. Both of them looked at me, Shion with an innocent stare. I felt like a fool, knowing that technically, she had the right to be with him. Technically…

I screamed in rage right after I closed the door to my room when I finally had gotten home again. I was so pissed at her; she knew I liked that boy, yet she was doing this to me. How could she?

At that moment, I had felt blinded by the thousand emotions that welled up inside me. I remember clearly the insanity that attacked me, and a voice inside me whispering 'kill her, kill her'. But more clearly do I remember the following night. We were alone; our family had left for a party 'without children'. I had seen my chance, and still blinded by the fury, I made up my mind and listened to the inner voice. Full of confidence, I silently went toward her; she was occupied by homework, as usual when she was home. I didn't need any weapon; I had trained martial arts since I was very young, and I knew I could rely on those skills. I prepared myself, then grabbed her by the neck, throwing her away from the table she was sitting by. She looked up at me in shock, calling out my name confused before I let my fury out on her. I barely remember the assault itself, but I do remember how she pleaded me to stop, defenseless on the floor. I had wanted to torment my twin before strangling her, but when I prepared to deal the final attack, she laid still, trembling and still not trying to get away. I heard her apologize barely above a hoarse whisper, saying 'sorry' all over and over, again and again, not stopping for a while; but when she finally went silent, Shion looked up at me with fear and sorrow in her turquoise eyes, tears racing across her cheeks.

Something inside my head snapped. Backing away, I looked at my hands, not wanting to believe how far I had gone. I had always been a bit violent, but never had I wanted to harm anyone like this.

Ever since then, it had all gone downhill. I had run away from home without another word, leaving the village as fast as I could. After I had reached the nearby city, Okinomiya, I had decided to take paths I had never taken before. I had no idea where I went - or well, I could read the signs, but I had no idea where I was, taking my former home into contrast. In the beginning, I started on drugs; a group of homeless elder teenagers had sympathized with me, and ever so slowly, that kind of life became mine. My 'friends' took care of me the first months I lived on the streets, helping me survive, but that all changed too. Shame washed over me when my shock finally had died down, and I left the group. Years have now passed, but I haven't gotten any further in life. I found this shack last winter, but until then, I had travelled from place to place, knowing I probably only got farther away from what once was my home. My survival depends on the money I gain on the streets every day. Quite a few people know me now, especially the workers in the nearest shops. A few sympathize, but most people think I should just go home. Some have offered to help me back, but I don't want to meet my family again. I don't think I could ever look them in the eyes again, not after what I did to my sister.

I know very well I can't survive here for much longer. The small amount of Yen I get is decreasing with every day, and I know everyone around here are tired of my presence. Either that, or they're pressing me, in an attempt to make me go home, to where they believe I would be happy. The other homeless are giving me cold glances too, and a few have threatened me as well, but that's probably because as long as I'm here, there might be less money for them.

I hate this kind of 'help'. If it wasn't for this method of 'helping', then I wouldn't even be here. While trying to deny it, I know my sister only wanted to help me by pressing me. She always tried to force me to reveal my feelings for that boy, but I believe we both know by now that pressing and stressing doesn't help me one bit - in fact, only the opposite. I'm too stubborn and proud to listen to others in situations like these.

I'm watching the snow from a shattered window in the shack. My first winter away from home felt much harsher than this one, but that's probably just because I've gotten used to this kind of life now. Sighing, I decide that I'm wasting my time. Tears are rolling down my face from my hard memories, but what for? I'm not getting anywhere. I have no plans, no goals, but I can't live like this the next eighty years or so.

I can't stay homeless.

I can't return to my family and friends.

I can't start a new life without help.

Clenching my fist and closing my eyes, I make up my mind once more; life is simply not worth living this way. More tears run down my eyes as I remember all the fun times with my friends, all the many games we played daily.

I left the shack behind, walking back to the cold streets, sitting down in the snow. I decided to let fate take over me and let everything go, step by step. I wouldn't move from here unless someone wanted me to. If I starved to death, so be it. Embracing my legs, I shed my tears sorrowfully in my knees, pleading silently for everything to be alright again. The only thing I really wanted now was to be forgiven and return to my former life, but that would probably require that my sister found me here, something that was completely impossible.

Ever so slowly, I realized that from now on and till the end of my short life, I would be alone.