Chapter Two

It all started from a nightmare. I saw myself, as if watching an action star on TV, running around in the middle of a war. I dream in a third person point of view, making it easy for me to tell whether something is happening in my dream or in reality. Nevertheless, the shaking of the ground from the bombs dropped felt real. I struggled, only to wake up to something worse, probably the worst.

I heard my grandmother cried, “Luisa..”

My grandmother’s house was small; it had two bedrooms, separated by shoji doors. I immediately slid the doors open and rushed into her bedroom where I found her trembling at the corner of her bed. The earthquake had probably been going on for a while. I could smell fire. I grabbed her but she hesitated. I pulled her hand but she pulled it back. I rushed outside and the first thing that I saw was fire. I wish I saw myself in a third person point of view, but I didn't. I was the actor, except no one was watching. I could tell it was reality.

An antique cabinet fell on my feet, and that was the last day I considered living.

I woke up in a white room. I felt a stabbing sensation on both of my legs. I squinted as my eyes were adjusting to the light. I looked down to see what the excruciating pain was all about and saw that two of my limbs were missing.

“Please, God, wake me up from this nightmare”

No, I wasn’t going to wake up. That was the present I had to deal with. I tried to remember everything that happened. I tried to absorb everything. I suddenly remembered my grandmother. When a nurse came in to check on me, I tried to speak and asked her. I’m pretty sure I wasn’t speaking like a human.

“The rescue team could not save her.” She answered.

I admire her honesty but I wish she was at least cautious. She even followed it up with two more devastating news. My father who was relocated to Sendai was washed away along with several others to the shores of death. My mother who left me under my grandmothers’s care for a day to see my father that day never came back.

“Be strong.” She said while adjusting the height of the over bed tray table.

She said something else after that but I could not hear anything. I could not properly respond to my surroundings. I had so much to take in. I had so much to say, but I could not say it. I trusted my brain. My brain processed them all. It was my mouth I couldn’t trust. It was like my brain had too much to say and my mouth could not keep up. Almost like the opposite of when you’re angry. When you’re angry, the brain can’t keep up with the mouth. The mouth just keeps on talking without the brain’s permission, often, inflicting wounds. Both, though, have similar outcome. If you tried to talk, the words will come out like a shattered glass; hard to pick up and impossible to digest.

For the sake of nothing in particular, I tried to talk.

“What...”

Just as I predicted, I could not speak. My chest was clasped with the words I wanted to say. I felt like drowning. The nurse squeezed my shoulder. But nurses aren't paid to console patients so she slid the over bed tray table above my lap and left.

Those words didn’t matter to me. I did not seek hope. I did not want to be taken care of, nor did I want to live.

I got up to look out from the glass window. The sky was black and I could tell it had been raining for weeks. I saw my reflection. I was somehow relieved seeing myself. It was like watching myself inside my dream in a third person point of view, only, it was looking right back. I tried to struggle to wake up but it was hopeless, it was reality. I buried myself under the covers and tried my luck with sleep. It was depressing to know that it felt like I can have at least a good time asleep. I had no luck. I wish I had known about sleeping pill. I could have asked the nurse for it. But at that age, I did not even know which button to press to call a nurse.

I can’t remember how much time I spent telling myself to keep breathing. In the middle of it all, I suddenly heard footsteps coming to my direction.

“So you’re finally awake.” he said while pulling a chair to the bedside.

I had never seen him before but his eyes and lips resembled my grandmother’s.

“I’m Sachiko’s brother. You can call me Uncle Tim.” He said in a hurry while glancing at his watch.

I had heard stories about Uncle Tim. My mother used to talk to him over the phone. I could clearly tell they were not in good terms.

We were all sitting in the living room watching a movie when the oven had sounded ding along with the ringing of the telephone. My mom got up and answered the phone.

“Yes, Mikami’s residence.” There was a long pause but my mom’s face turning sour was evident.

“But you still haven’t paid me yet!” my mom yelled and hung up.

“What’s wrong?” My dad sitting on the sofa with me asked when he heard my mom’s angry voice.

“He needs money again. He hasn’t even paid me yet!” She said while taking the pizza out from the oven.

“What does he need it for this time?” my dad asked.

“He said it’s for his car maintenance. Can you fucking believe that? He should just sell his car then!”

“I bet you my life he hasn’t changed after he got out from the rehab.” My dad shook his head.

My dad was the most cynical human being I have ever known while my mom was the exact opposite. She would yell at Uncle Tim for one second but she would call him later and lend him the money that he needs anyway. At the age of six, my dad would often give me a lecture about the harmful effects of drugs. He would tell me that if I don’t want to end up like my Uncle Tim, I should focus my mind on school. My mom being the idealist would always tell him to stop staining my innocent mind.

“It’s for her betterment. She will learn about those things someday anyway. At least, she’s already been warned.” My dad would defend himself.

My dad always had Uncle Tim as an example of what I must not follow. And now, I was facing the man he and my mother had always loathed. But they are all dead now; my parents and my grandmother and probably our cat, Luis, too.

"As you know, you have nowhere else to go. You're moving with us." He said as if it was a command.

I didn't know whether to feel relieved or even more scared. Then I realized that feeling relieved was the most impossible thing to feel at that time. I suddenly felt like I was walking in a dark alley, just walking with no particular direction. No, walking is not the right verb. Crawling. I felt like I was crawling in a dark alley.

<3 Manganese

Chapter One

Hello and welcome to the eighteenth year of my feigned existence. My name is Luisa; named after our cat Luis who died when I was eight, which is probably the reason why I am nocturnal. No, I'm neither nocturnal nor normal. I just prefer staying up at night. In fact, I like it because I feel safer is one, and not hearing Jean making all sorts of obscene moans is another. One day my uncle had to throw Jean into my room when my aunt came home way earlier than usual. My choices were limited. It was either I stay inside the room with Jean and be awkward with her or I go get some fresh air, if there's such thing, and meet a couple of friends. For some weird reason, I didn't mind her being alone in my room. What she should do to get out from there was her problem.
Right after I laid eyes on the outside world, I saw my aunt storming right into the kitchen. Our eyes met for a millisecond before she rolled her eyes off me.
“I’m not allowed to work beyond eight hours anymore. It's either you find a job or you throw Luisa out!" she said before she can even swallow the slice of soufflé cheesecake she just stuffed into her mouth.
"You know you can’t throw her out. The insurance money she’s getting is what’s paying for this apartment" replied Uncle Tim who was now half-dressed.
My aunt inched towards him "Then find a job" she whispered into his ear in a sarcastic tone.
I opted not to listen to the rest of their conversation, or rather, argument. So I headed straight to Gem Park, which is around 7 blocks away. It’s not really called Gem Park. It’s a nameless park. I started calling it Gem Park after I saw an old vandalism saying ‘Gem was here’ in bold letters. Why Gem seemed to be so excited to have stepped a foot on that park remains a mystery to me. It’s an abandoned park with nothing but a rusty swing and muddy ground. But I prefer it that way, and probably Gem too. I planned to go home, if I can even call that home, before midnight. One of the house rules is "lights off at ten" which is the reason why I decided to go home at around eleven. It was now quarter to ten when one of my friends showed up. By now, you've already probably guessed that this friend of mine likes to play at night. I named it Louie regardless of its gender, but I assumed it is a he. I like being around with tamed, non-human creatures because from their perspective, I am probably a genius. I mean, I can talk and Louie can just meow. But if Louie could read this, I am as sure as eggs are eggs it would disagree.
"Just because you can talk doesn't mean you're superior" I can imagine it yelling at my face while snapping its fingers (claws?) in a Z form.
I can't blame them. And to be completely honest, I couldn't agree more to Louie, or myself since I just made that up. I sometimes even imagine the world with nobody being able to talk. Yeah, that would be perilous. A depressed wife would then simply slit her polygamous husband's throat instead of the traditional 'get the hell out of my house' and ‘fuck you’ lines. Okay, that was an exaggeration. I can probably play god and give exceptions to those who badly needs to get it out or to people who deserve to talk. Like the boy I used to sit next to in Algebra class before I dropped out. He didn’t talk to me that often, but every time he did, I had always found myself lost. His words were almost too good to be true. They are the type of words that dig into the roots; deep and deadly. People like him cause my confusion to grow even more. But I digress.
It was now past midnight, the only time I love being home. No, love would be an understatement. If there’s a word that describes how something makes you feel being connected to the outer space as you watch the stars through your window without anyone reminding you of who you are supposed to be, then feel free to scratch the preceding clause and replace it with that word. With that being said, I decided to go back to one of the thousands world I have.
As I was walking home, I saw a tall, familiar silhouette on a spotlight, the lights from the vending machine acting as its light. I heard something pop so I was sure this person just bought a soda from that vending machine. As I got nearer, I figured it was Jean. Her beige coat complimented perfectly to her height. Her now-worn-down chestnut brown hair swayed along the evening breeze. Her long and defined nose was still in place. I was surprisingly relieved that she got out from our house in one piece. I wanted to say hi. Not because I wanted to befriend her but because I owed her an apology for abandoning her. Of course she was in no way under my responsibility. I just needed an excuse. There was something in her eyes that expressed pain, ambiguity and relentlessness, and that was enough to adhere to my own curiosity. But before I could even think for an opening line, she walked into my direction.
“How can you put up with those kinds of people?” she asked hastily.
I don’t know what she overheard after I left but it felt like she was angry and was asking for a prompt answer.
“They are my only family” I replied reluctantly.
She was now pushing my wheelchair to the direction where I just came from. 
“What does family mean to you?” She asked in an almost motherly way.
It was soothing to my ear. It was awkwardly blatant in its most subtle way. I don’t even know why I didn't hesitate to go with her.
I did not answer her question. Instead, I acted insecure and childish. “Don’t you see this? I have nowhere else to go.” I said in a stronger tone pointing to my wheelchair.
“Well, that’s a shame. You think you are disabled?” she asked rhetorically.
“Anyone with clear eyesight, or anyone with poor eyesight aided with eyeglasses can tell” I answered anyway.
Her face did not show any expression of surprise.“Do you think that your physical disability is worse than a person who is incapable to love?” she smiled half way.
I was speechless. It struck me like a lightning bolt on a hot summer day. It was unexpected. I wanted to hear more. She lit a cigarette and started to blow squalid clouds of breaths and never said a word. She might have also felt my pain, ambiguity and relentlessness. There were a lot of questions I wanted to ask her. Why is she sticking up with someone like Uncle Tim? Does she have a family? What is she planning to do with her life? Then I asked myself the same questions, but I did not have answers. Not just yet. Afraid that she might throw the same questions, I let it go.  As for her, I will never know why she sat quiet the whole time. So we ended up just sitting next to each other until the first light. We talked about nothing. She was solitary in her own way, and I was too, and that was enough to make me feel that in that space, in that breath, and in that blink, I had not one sorrow, just sanity and solace.

<3 Manganese

Vague Thoughts Of You

facing west, waiting for the sunrise
empty midnight sky, full of stars
clammed up streets with busy cars
i yearn for your beautifully bedraggled guise

as i remember the fierce smell of your perfume
it gently calms me down
you are a million miles away
yet nobody could ever be this close

chaos in this peaceful twilight
annihilation of my broken sight
as i sway steadily
filthy pictures painted perfectly

winter becomes quietly warm
flowers spring on fall with your charm
i don't believe in magic
until you came and took me to pacific


<3 Manganese

One Fading Summer

most of the time, things don't end up the way she planned it

sometimes, it feels like nothing is left to do but quit

and the only thing she is capable of is to dream

dream along with the stars falling like autumn leaves

'how far has she gone?'

but everyone knows nothing's done

a minute, an hour, a day, a lifetime wasted

every breath she takes is antiquated

but would you take the reasons why?

why she has been waiting endlessly beneath the sky,

waiting for something that has flown like a summer kite?

and why she wants to give it one more fight?

she never waits, not one morning she missed a glint

and like music, not one single hint

why she was blatantly imprisoned forever

by someone she knew one fading summer

<3 Manganese

The Unknown

I freeze in hell,

I freeze with joy and fear,

I loathe the familiar;

forbidden manifestations.

For I have stolen the depths,

I hoard them in my nails;

your imprudence, stranger,

I take them all along.

Stand still, for in the dust I have sown,

infinity, surpassing sanity and rationality,

against gravity,

I am the unknown;

and I have died before you were born.

<3 Manganese