maybe one day it won’t all be gray
"I expect this assignment to be due by Wednesday night." My maths teacher's voice rings through my head as he places a textbook in front of me. This is my punishment for skipping school (and falling behind in my classes—Literature: C+, Mathematics: D, Gym: B-, Computer Sciences: A-, World History: D-). I mean, it could be worse…I think.
The textbook stares at me with big bold letters that read 'Grade 6 Mathematics'. Fun. I'm expected to answer a bajillion questions on a piece of paper that all ask the same question over and over. 'Prove this is a triangle'. Look at it. 'What is the value of X?' Do it yourself. 'If Kenji has 472.38 apples in his school bag, how long will it take for him to walk to school?' Why the hell does Kenji need to bring so many apples? It's all so dumb.
I take the assignment and textbook and look at my teacher, waiting for any other 'go-to-hell-five-times-then-come-back-and-walk-on-broken-glass-and-then-go-talk-to-your-ex' assignments I must do. I don't open my mouth to speak. It's more satisfying to keep my mouth shut and let my lips dry over until they're glued shut by whatever crusts over your lips when you don't hydrate them enough than to speak and listen to my ugly voice spew out of my mouth.
"Rui," my teacher says. I blink in response. "You're free to go now," he tells me slowly. I do not give a 'yes, sir' or a 'sorry, it won't happen again'. I just stand up and leave. The flooring beneath my feet seems a little duller than usual. Maybe I should get that checked out. I shove the textbook and assignment into my bag—which was handed to me when I walked into the building today. The school had somehow managed to piece together that I was skipping due to my reported truancy and the fact that my bag was just found lying around outside of school.
I go to gym class where I spend my time not doing the exercises and instead sit on the bleachers in clothes that I don't like. It's freezing in the gym, and wearing shorts and a short-sleeved t-shirt does not help. The gym coach gave up on trying to persuade me into sports with the rest of the kids a long time ago, and instead she just gives me an automatic zero for the day. Do I care? Yes. Do I care enough to embarrass myself trying to throw a ball around? No.
As soon as gym class finishes, I walk to the nurse's office instead of lunch. I'd rather die than spend another minute near anyone else, I want to tell her. But that's not 'school appropriate' and could land me in white and padded hell if I'm not careful. So instead I tell her I feel lightheaded and she tells me to sit on an uncomfortable couch where she asks a million questions on why I may feel lightheaded.
"Did you sleep last night?"
Barely an hour. "Yes."
"Did you eat breakfast this morning?"
Breakfast is unnecessary. "No."
"Have you been exercising?"
I'm skinny enough. "No."
"Have you been consuming any substances lately?"
I don't have the guts. "No."
She shoves a juice box into my hands and tells me to drink it. I do and she throws the empty box away for me. She takes my blood pressure and tells me it's probably the lack of food I've eaten. "You're going through puberty, you need your nutrients," she tells me as if she's my mom. I don't reply.
She asks if I'd like another juice box and I shake my head no, but she gives me one anyway. I love free choice. I sip on the juice box as she tends to another kid that just came in who seems to be cradling a sprained wrist. Me and the kid do not make eye contact. I throw the juice box away and lie down on the same cot I did last time, where I fall asleep again.
———
I flinch awake to the sound of the school bell waking me up. The end of lunch, I presume. I get up before the nurse tells me I have to and I drag myself to my second favorite part of the school day (the first part being leaving): Computer sciences. I'm surprised I don't have a higher grade in that class, since I do all my work perfectly. I think my teacher in that class just doesn't like me. I'm too good in his class. He's struggling to find ways to criticize my work and that pisses him off.
Computer sciences is a classroom that's more like a hardware store that houses only me and three other students, not including the teacher. I'm fine with the solitude; it gives me a lot more space to work on projects. My current project here at school is putting together a drone with a camera on it. It'd be nice to be able to spy on my teachers and see if they really do live here at the school.
As I work, one of the kids accidentally cuts himself on whatever he was using and asks to go to the nurse. He leaves before the teacher can even respond. I wonder…is he really making that big of a deal about it? What did he even cut himself on? Now I feel super curious about how bad a cut could possibly be. I never made the mistake of playing with knives or Mommy's razor since I was a Good Kid. I followed the rules, I listened when I was supposed to. 'Sit, Rui. Roll over, Rui. Speak, Rui. Do your homework, Rui. No talking to Nene until you finish your breakfast, Rui.'
If I were a dog, I would've won first place in all the training contests.
Except for being asked to speak.
———
I hate learning about history. It's not worth talking about.
———
I linger on the rooftop after school and waste 30 minutes staring at the ground below. I only leave when my intrusive thoughts start to ask me what would happen if I climbed the fence and jumped. I don't like to dwell on depressing topics. Maybe that's why I don't like history. Too much death and violence.
The walk home is cold, littered with leaves that I step on and try to get a crunch sound out of, and smells faintly of rain still trying to soak into the dirt. I need to start bringing a jacket with me. I get home and drop my bag next to my bed. I do not pull out the textbook, since I'm more caught up on whether that kid from my computer science class was overreacting over a small cut or not.
I turn my whole room upside down to find anything I could cut myself on without bleeding out as well. Nothing except for that light bulb from earlier but that's just dumb. I search majority of my house. Nothing. That is, until I come across what I was looking for in my parents' room. A small pencil sharpener. I pick up the small sharpener. The blade reflects the light of the lamp on the nightstand. I take the sharpener back to my room and sit in the middle of my gradually-growing-messy-again floor.
Door shut and locked, Kiseki watching and telling me I'm stupid for doing this, me ignoring Kiseki's protests, fingers trembling, I bring a screwdriver to the screw of the blade and twist the handle. The screw falls out of the tiny hole onto the floor. Kiseki tells me to put the screw back into the tiny hole. I respond by bringing the blade to my forearm. I'm curious as to if he really reacted that bad.
I draw a small tiny red line on my arm. Small tiny beads of blood peek out from the line. I watch the blood play peek-a-boo with me, then sit the blade on the now-empty pencil sharpener. Kiseki scolds me and I tell him to shut up. I stand up and go to grab a Band-Aid to cover the small red line.
The pencil sharpener (with the blade screwed back in) goes in the drawer of my nightstand, waiting until I decide to throw it out. Unless I decide eye wan two her tuh gain. My feet drag me to the kitchen where I put together a sandwich and eat most of it. Key word: most. I throw the rest of the sandwich away and bring myself back to my room. I'm not hungry enough for a whole sandwich.
Kiseki tells me I should eat more. I tell him I'm not hungry. He stares at me with his beady black eyes. He tells me I should start on my mathematics work. I grumble and stomp my feet but I get the textbook and paper out anyway. Two hours of struggling and annoying numbers later, I'm finally done with my work. Do I put my textbook away, however? No.
Instead, I decide to express my hate toward the school and everything it stands for, and I take my pen and begin to write whatever comes to mind in the margins of the textbook. I like using this pen. The ink writes smoothly and it doesn't smudge. Perfect for when I decide I feel like going left-handed (yes, I'm ambidextrous, shocker). That also means that the pen ink won't be coming off any time soon.
———
Saturday is a long day of doing nothing but sleeping, getting up to eat something to supply my hunger (like half a bowl of cereal), babbling sleepily to Kiseki, vandalizing the math textbook, and telling Nene that yes, I'm fine, no, I have not died, and no, I'm not sick.
Sunday passes similarly except this time my mama drags me out of bed and tells me it's time to finally do my chores since I haven't done them since school started a few months ago. I don't argue. It's more satisfying to let my lips glue themselves shut than waste my time and voice on the inevitable. Roll over, Rui. Yes, mother.
And so, I clean up my couch, clean all the toys and books off my bedroom floor, take out the kitchen and bathroom trash, clean the living room up, wash the dishes (and try not to cry when I accidentally touch wet food, not once, but twice), put my own clothes in the wash, and occasionally sneak to the kitchen to eat a spoon of sugar as mild rebellion.
The rest of the day is spent in my room scribbling in the textbook and trying to work on Robo-Nene. All I need now is to give her a more energetic sounding voice. I'll call Nene over for that tomorrow afternoon.
Sweet dreams.
———
My stomach yells angrily at me. Saliva cakes my whole mouth. So does bile.
———
Sweet dreams were not on the catalogue for last night. One of my blankets that I hardly ever use has fallen on the floor in a heap. I step over the blanket and get changed for school. I should drink more water…my mouth feels super dry and tastes disgusting. I trudge to the bathroom and flood my mouth with the tap water until I no longer taste repulsive whatever in my mouth.
At school, I instead spend gym class at the nurse's office to get some sleep in and so I can avoid people, then I go to the courtyard for lunch and look for Tsukasa-san. He's in our—yes, our—usual spot, eating his own lunch. I sit next to him and he gives me the rest of his food without even saying a word. He does ask me where I've been lately. "Nurse," I reply. I realized the less I speak, the longer I can keep my lips glued shut.
Tsukasa-san asks me why I've been going to the nurse recently. I don't respond. He doesn't press further. I look down at the food in my lap, none of which seems appetizing to me. All I eat is a small muffin. I give the rest back to Tsukasa-san. He doesn't protest my refusal of lunch.
"Where's Kiseki?" he asks me."At home," I respond.
"Okay."
During lunch, I pull out the textbook and resume my doodling in one of the pages about the velocity of whatever. "What are you doing?" Tsukasa-san asks, leaning over my shoulder to look at the small doodles. "Defacing school property," I say dryly. "Why?" he asks me. Tsukasa-san still asks so many questions. I give him a small shrug.
———
Nene opens the door and stares at me, waiting for me to explain why I'm interrupting her alone time. I just turn and walk to my house, expecting her to follow. She does. "So what could you possibly need me for now?" Nene asks as we walk through the grass to my room. "Robo-Nene. She needs a new voice." "And you're asking me?" Nene asks. I nod. She sighs in response.
I open the door and gesture for her to walk inside. Not even two steps into my room, Nene visibly grimaces and holds her nose to block any smell. "It smells like shit in here," she complains. I glance away and instead drag her to where Robo-Nene sits.
For the next few hours, I have Nene say several common words and other stuff such as numbers and the whole alphabet and other terms until Robo-Nene is capable of having small conversations with her new voice. I thank Nene and she leaves.
After Nene leaves, I search my whole room for what could be the source of the smell Nene was complaining about. I'm about to give up until I pick up the blanket that fell off my bed earlier and gag. Well, now I know what the smell is and why my mouth tasted horrible this morning. Turns out I'd been sick last night and never bothered to clean the mess up.
I clean up the sick mess whilst gagging and trying so hard not to cry. I need to get better at controlling my nausea. After the mess is all cleaned up, I spend the rest of the day trying to implement Nene's voice in Robo-Nene's bank. I should see a doctor soon.
———
By the end of the day, I've managed to mess with Nene's voicing of the whole alphabet and mix that into words I deem important but not important enough to have Nene just say in-person. It's a bit muddy overall, but doable.
I'm feeling really tired after all that, so I lie down in bed, ignore the screaming of the pencil sharpener hidden away in my nightstand, and will myself to fall asleep…
———
Open drawer. Feel. Grab. Lock door. Sleeve up. Remove. Hold. Shaky hands. Cut cut cut.
.
.
.
Ow.