Run Over Chapter 4.4

Break My Body
Chapter 4 Part 4

Let's go back exactly one year.

It was the time I entered high school. I think it was May, we were getting used to high school and were building up the relations.h.i.+ps between us.

People called her The Curtain, her real name was already erased from my memory. I remembered how her bangs, resembling a bamboo curtain, fell on her face, reaching her eyelashes, and the dark skin tone wasn't due to a healthy skin tan. Perhaps, it was simply her type of hair, but the strands of hair falling on her hair were always disheveled like yarn, with which some cat played.

In those days, I wasn't particularly interested in socializing with people, and no one wanted to socialize with me anyways, and close communication seemed to me like something vague and distant. Except for the times at each break when I exchanged glances with the girl, who usually sat in her place reading a book with a guilty face.

Because of this, I remembered the moment perfectly, when a sudden call forced that girl to leave her usual spot.

The call was from Tanabe.

"Your bangs are just like a curtain." This was a 'greeting'. "Why don't we cut it?"

The girl muttered something in response, but I didn't make out the words. But it was as if Tanabe smelled the scent. The scent of a human, who can never refuse, and would always obey. And so, the girl who didn't like to decorate herself, was sucked into a company of girls, who were covering themselves in tones of makeup.

Like this, Tanabe and the others began to direct her, how to comb her hair, how to do her makeup, get dressed. Soon their efforts came through. That girl, unable to make decisions for herself, changed in appearance. And since then she changed exactly as Tanabe's gang said. Just like in the social network, avatars change – she changed in real life. She even moved just like she was told.

Getting an all-powerful feeling, Tanabe and her gang soon got carried away. Once that girl appeared in school with yellow-blue hair, just like a character from an anime. The teacher was outraged of course, but in answer only received, "It's my natural colour."

Gradually the amount of requirements grew. And demanders too. One after another, absurd orders were thrown at her, which all had to be carried out. Each time they got harder and harder. The crowd got obsessed with this. It got to the point that the crazier someone's requirement was, the cooler they looked in the eyes of the others. It was necessary to think of something so crazy. Necessary to force her to do something so absurd. Wow, how cool.

The crowd turned into a G.o.d for the girl. A G.o.d, that only sent suffering and misfortune. The girl was fed with weeds, and forced to smoke until she started vomiting and fainting. They made her run errands, they shredded her hair with scissors, tied a leash around her neck and pulled her after them. They forced her to take off her clothes and show her dirty skin, on which stretched long, red scars, and perform songs of an idol group popular then. If the girl wouldn't smile, she met with the copper cable. If she puked, she was forced to lick the floor and swallow her own vomit.

No one felt guilt. Everyone was doing it, so it's ok. This is how they thought. Because these were the rules of the cla.s.s: the decision of the majority is undeniable. You are free to do anything, as long as they're within the established rules. This is how they thought.

For me, separated from everyone, the situation caused disgust. But I could only continue watching or transfer to a new school. In any way, this is what I thought in those days. There wasn't the slightest desire of risking it and going to snitch.

Here summer break began, and then they ended.

During the summer break, the students who began to break under the sense of superiority, began to demand the absurd again. One of them even boasted of appearing at her house and pulling her out of there.

Athletic festival. Cultural festival. Everyone is feeling an unprecedented unity. So it happened that everyone was filled with this feeling and together abused the girl.

Autumn came, then winter. Here the story comes to an end.

December 24th. Christmas Eve.

When the closing ceremony ended and we returned to cla.s.s, that girl was standing on the windowsill.

She died. She simply died. She killed herself.

It seemed that everyone said just that.

When the eyes focused on the window, the girl glared at each one of them viciously. Her bangs resembling a bamboo curtain was gone – her hair had been shred a long time ago, like a lawn by a lawnmower.

"I'd rather die!"

How unoriginal, thought I. Just like in a cheap two-hour drama. That girl swept through the cla.s.s again full of blame, as if she was an actor, staring at ungrateful viewers, like me. Her stare seemed to say: you are all to blame, because of you I will die.

Nevertheless, the cla.s.s remained silent,

Clap…

Soon there were sounds.

Clap, clap…clap.

The intermittent sounds, capable of creating a spark, awaken the flame.

What is this? Oh, got it.

The clapping of hands.

The claps before the performance of suicide.

The claps became more frequent, as if it was a cough before the worsening of an infection, and gradually overlapped each other.

The blows of the hands spread across the room and echoed off the concrete walls.

The angry face of that girl distorted.

Her shaking legs buckled, and the girl fell back into the cla.s.s.

She lifted herself from the floor, stood on all fours, and howled at the top of her lungs. I didn't understand what exactly she was shouting, but the girl probably didn't know herself.

Someone sighed so loudly, as if his soul flew right out of him. A chair s.h.i.+fted by someone screeched on the floor.

"So it won't happen?"

The people lost interest and fled out of the cla.s.s.

For a moment, I met gazes with the girl, who caused only pity, and turned away. I took my bag and left the room.

The next day, that girl unexpectedly died in a car crash.
Edited by: Akshaythedon