Chapter1 – A New Start, Just Do Not Waste It!

I stood in front of the sea of faces all staring at me,some people were slightly curious while others did not care. I do not mind being ignored, it is better than being infamous like at my last school.

:Don't think about that, not today, you need your confidence. Everything will be fine as long as you are careful, nobody knows you here, moving to a new school gives you a second chance. Just don't waste it:

Sensei-mayoko broke my fearful contemplations by speaking a lot louder than she had been previously. Apparently she had been talking to me while I had been studying my shoes she had been introducing me to the class. She smiled at me. She was obviously nice but I felt too shy to return the smile.

“Now I'll say what I was saying again because no one was listening”
“This is Sylthmire Miyahira she is from Nara but moved here for her Dad's work” I was right she was nice, she had lied for me, I did not move for dad, he moved for me.
“So what do you do in your spare time Sylthmire-san?”
“...Um....I read horror and manga books.  I draw a lot too.” I felt so fake yet the words I said were true. I am trying so hard to be normal.
“Well, there is a spare seat near the back, you can sit near Megumi-san.”

I sat in my designated place and took out my pad. Sensei was talking about the work we are doing this term. We are going to write a scary story. I am good at writing stories but I must be careful because I cannot show them the nightmares that haunt my mind. As I wrote my notes I let my hair swing across my face and I peeked towards my neighbor. He was pale, with lightless eyes and black hair. He had a look in his eyes that spoke of the silent danger he was to others. The students seemed to avoid his eyes when he looked at them and shoot terrified glances at him when he did not. I felt a rush of sympathy towards him. I knew how it felt to be shunned, feared and hated because of who you are.

I was brought back to reality when Sensei asked me a question, “ Sylthmire-san what fear do you think you will use in your story?” and without thinking I replied “ being feared,” for that is my greatest fear. My appearance, the look in my eyes,the way I speak and the dark thoughts in my mind have doomed me to being feared all my life. She looked surprised for a moment then smiled and said “ That is a good idea because it is original. Fear of things such as darkness can fade over time but a fear of being feared or rejected lasts a lifetime.”I flushed and let my hair swing across my face again. Sensei had let me see into her heart with a few words. I saw her nightmare.

Sensei was kissing a man passionately, I felt the happiness radiating from her. The man had a violet, solemn eyes, black hair and was wearing a white doctor coat. Almost everything about him seemed to remind me of snow but  thanks to Sensei's care the snow was melting to reveal the kind soul beneath. Then the dream changed and the man changed into a different one. Sensei recoiled for this was not the man she loved. The new man wore a kimono and had a mischievous, almost cruel glint in his eye.

This is my gift or my curse. I see everyones worst nightmares. I was glad my hair covered my eyes because I was crying. It is hard to remain distant and detached from people when you see everyones fears so plainly. I felt a strong urge to help Sensei because behind her smiles and joking lies a broken heart.

I spent the rest of the lesson being quiet and inconspicuous with the odd tear sliding down my face. But I could not know whether my sadness was for Sensei's pain or my own lonliness for although the teacher did not hate me yet I still felt the familiar misery because none of my classmates spoke or  even looked at me. Was this my fate? Was I doomed to be invisible and unloved for the rest of my life? I should of expected this. I had dared to hope and now I payed the cost.

The next two lessons passed uneventfully- firstly maths in which I drifted through some tediously easy probability questions while the teacher droned on and then English (foreign language) which was again boring but gratifying because I speak English so fluently compared to my classmates.In all the lessons I sufferred the silence and fear of my classmates but the people blend together in such entirity that I almost did not care.At the end of the lesson I finally stepped through the door into the mass of people outside when the feeling of worthlessness creeped over me again. I tried to dissolve into the mass of people outside ; some ridden with angst and others enviably care-free. I am a pencil dot on paper ; so easy to rub out.I am insignificant. I am worthless. This scene and these events  have been repeated in so many similar corridors ; the same fear, the same misery and the same pain. The price for my misplaced hope as I started another school is agony. Hope is the poison that changes numbed and  almost bearable pain back to inescapable misery.

As the feelings were the same so were the events;the daily dilemma of yesteryear of finding a new place to eat came back to haunt me. I tried the cloakroom but found it full of imbecilic,  shouting boys. I tried the library but was shooed away by the furious librarian for bringing food. Finally I resigned myself to the toilet cubical. It had been my haven for the last few years. I was used to eating with toilet roll beneath my feet but I had dared to hope for a change. I had dared to hope for a friendly smiling person to invite one new girl to eat with them. My light has blinded and abandoned me. My hope is an illusion meant only for normal girls.

As I ate my cheese sandwiches I realized that all that was left in my heart was fear, all love - even that for Father was gone. Once I had been hated and feared and I had used this to terrify those who wished to hurt me. Once I had been full of hate for others - now I only hated myself.

My cold, lonely heart had lost the game before it had really even started.