"Bye mom!" Erika shouted as she exited her courtyard and stepped on the sidewalk.
"Bye sweetheart! Be careful!" the old woman stood on the doorstep and waved towards her daughter.
The girl didn't look back. She slowly paced down the street, lost in her own thoughts. She didn't look forward to school. She never really did. But who would look forward to going to a place of, for her at least, mischief, bullying and pure despair and loneliness? God had turned his back to that place a long time ago, she thought. Erika never had any friends; each of her classmates found her weird and scary, because she often talked to herself and saw things none of them could.
The ginger hated her abilities, but they were simply there, whether she liked them or not. It didn't matter how hard she tried to ignore them and get rid of them, they would always wait for a moment to surprise her and send chills throughout her body. She still remembered the first time she felt their effect; a memory that would stay carved into her soul and mind forever. It was still so clear, like it happened yesterday. A boy from her neighborhood died in a car accident, and one day, while she was returning from school, she saw him sitting on the stairs of his house, his head buried in his hands. Erika didn't believe what she saw. She simply stood there, watching him, completely paralyzed. When he noticed her presence, he stood up; his ghostly being seemed so fragile and transparent. His skin was pale, and his eyes glowed with some strange, cold way that made even bones shiver. He walked up to her and asked of her to tell his mother that he misses her. But Erika stood frozen, and all she did was staring. And she stared…
The verdant-eyed girl shook her head. After that, more meetings of the same kind occurred. She had talked to many ghosts, but she could never get used to it. Many of her classmates and other people saw her doing so, and they thought she was a loony because it looked like she talked to herself, and they avoided her as much as possible.
Erika kicked a pebble out of her way, highly frustrated. She growled.
"What the hell is wrong with me?!" she pulled her auburn hair. "Why can't I be like everyone else?! I don't understand! If it's gonna stay like this, I don't want to live anymore!" she screamed, and tears burst down her cheeks. She stopped.
"I…I want to die." she murmured softly.
Erika raised her gaze to the sky; the clouds pleasantly followed the path the wind chose for them. They were so careless and fluffy; they didn't have to think about anything. They have no bothers or regrets, and they're surrounded by other clouds – friends. Something Erika longed for. A friend. Somebody who could love her and cherish her for who she is, even if she is a bit unusual. Not like she wanted to turn out that way. She didn't enjoy it herself. But over the last few years, she found less and less understanding, and she came to believe that there is no such person who could take a role of being her friend.
Wiping off the tears and frowning, Erika glanced at her wristwatch.
"1.21," she read, "I'll be late." She walked forward until she reached a roundabout and turned left on it. She looked at her watch again.
"1.24" she gulped. The last thing she needed now was tardiness. She'd get unwanted attention and, well…It wouldn't be pleasing.
Erika ran. Passing into the next street, she glanced to see if there was any traffic, and quickly ran into it. Then she made her way into a wide street on the right and waited for the traffic lights to flash green.
"1.26" she murmured somewhat impatiently. Finally, the green light was on, so she fast-walked to the other side of the street, and ran down the sidewalk until she reached the next one. There was a junction, and she stopped in front of it to catch her breath.
"1.28" she huffed exhausted. Two more minutes.
The ginger was on a move on again. She chose the left street and, at it its end saw her school. Getting closer to it, Erika saw a tall man on a red motorcycle just beside the school gate. He wore a black leather jacket and a pair of ripped jeans. His hairstyle was a little unusual – navy and really messy. He seemed as a quite laid-back and careless person.
She stopped to catch her breath yet again.
"1.29" was displayed on her watch. It was no good. She'd surely be late now.
Suddenly, the motorcyclist dropped a cigarette that he was, apparently, smoking, stomped it, and turned on his vehicle. He drove forwards, and it would seem that he would enter another street and leave, but instead, he made a sharp turn and stormed straight back to where he came from increasing speed by every moment. As he progressed down the street towards Erika, he started to lose control of the motorcycle. It changed its course to the sidewalk.
Erika's verdant eyes widened. The motorcycle was going straight for her. She stood there, frozen, not knowing what to do. For a moment, the navy-haired man's eyes met her own. Her whole life passed before her eyes – the loneliness, the despair, the tears. And at the end, this stranger's eyes.
Erika Mizuno sighed. She knew what was coming next. She didn't run; she wasn't afraid. She stood there and waited for her fate.
Two corpses lied next to one another, bathing into each other's blood. The girl's wristwatch had stopped, and its hands pointed on exactly 1.30. The school bell rang, and dark clouds hovered upon the town…