The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

I sit alone in a room I cannot call my own. It had my things, my trinkets and bobbies. My laptop charges on my nightstand, full of all my files. My books. My drawings. Books line the shelves, my artwork taped upon the wall. It's my music that plays from the stereo. It's my clothes that hand in the closet. It's my friends who text me. Or, my one friend. A friend I can't be bothered with, who I can't understand why I like. One of those friends who you let hang around—or in my case, gravitate towards—because you feel too lost and alone without them, despite them being the most annoying person in the world.



I don't hate this house; my grandparents home, situated in a quieter part of Tokyo, with two bedrooms, a guest one—now mine, for the year—and my grandparents'. A shrine to my ancestor's sits in my room, which I pay my respects to every morn and every evening. It's like prayer. Only with less pressure.



My grandmother flits about the house, cleaning and cooking. I help out when I can, but I'm not a good cleaner, and my grandmother insists I stay with studying and friends and my hobbies. This wasn't for chores. This is for the enrichment of my life. Besides, at the school I go to, I have to stay back two hours to clean. That's how it works here in Japan. No need for custodians. The kids do all the cleaning. It's smart, really. We take better care to not leave messes so we can go home earlier.



I'm still on American time zone, and I'm all but an insomniac. It's late night. My grandfather will be home from work soon. I want to stay up to greet him and help him to his bed. Then I will pray to my ancestors, and then to my Lord, God, and continue to write. Not here. Not in this journal. My stories. My books. Things that give me life, make me happy.



And now I get a text from someone I care for. Rika. She's telling me about the movie she's watching. I reply back with a smile. I see her face in my minds' eye. I hear her voice, soft and gentle. Smell her, cherry blossoms and incense and coffee and paint. She's wearing tattered jeans and an oversized sweatshirt, her hair pulled back in a messy bun, her chucks glasses askew on her button nose, and her wild grin as she sat with her sister, Jun, her best friend on any level, to watch a horror movie her older brother, Ryuu, recommended. I wish I could be there with her, but I can't. It's too late to go, and she's a good forty minutes away. Instead, I text her a reply and a smiley face. And she replies with a ‘Good luck on that. Love you.’ And I respond with an, ‘I love you, too. If you get too scared, call me.’ I am an expert on calming fears. It's my past time, being as anxiety-prone as I am.



My grandfather is home. Until tomorrow.

COMMENTS

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DaganaNumaraNamari
22:33 Nov 27 2015

Very well said.

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