Girl Stuck In Time
This will loosely follow the entire Inuyasha storyline from Keara’s point of view. Disclaimer: I do not own or manufacture or produce Inuyasha in any form. All rights go to their respectful owners. I simply own Keara.
‘One after another demons in groups and in hoards charge at her non-stop. She is beautiful but she is fierce and will never give up or give in and with her sword at her side she’s near invincible. She bleeds from wounds all over her body – she’s no immortal – but she fights in this war like a goddess. I live her war between purity and evil, between priestess and demons. Every night I experience her fire but long for her want for freedom that she can never have. Her soul is stuck in a sphere that surrounds us with a purplish aura, forever…In a never ending battle…’
I open my eyes slowly as the images from my dream begin to fade into streams of warm sunlight. They beam through slightly open slits due to mishandling of the black curtains that cover the large window at my side – the light washes the room eerily; just like my dream.
‘Always the same dream…every night…’
Textbooks from a long night of studying and working, lie scattered across the hardwood floor below; reminding me of the shoe box project I have to bring to a fellow classmates house in just fifteen minutes. It is of a diagram on DNA and sits, completed, on my desk across the table. It’s a conjoined project, my partner did some of the diagram a few nights prior and I finished up last night.
I sit up slowly, groaning quietly when my stiff joints crack and pop. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep since I can remember and I really wish I didn’t have to sleep at all.
I throw my legs off the side of my single sized bed and take a stand, stretching and popping my arms while the waves of my black hair tickle down my back.
Grabbing my school uniform at the end of my bed, I take a minute to look down at it. This has to be the hundredth school I’ve gone too, the hundredth uniform I’ve worn, I sigh but don’t feel regret, remorse or even pity. Honestly, I lost count at how many schools I have really gone too and especially lost count of how many families I have been passed along too.
I was no troubled child. Never caused problems or got into trouble – I just have this thing. My counselor believes I must have some sort of mood disorder because I never…I never feel emotion.
Every foster family I’ve been with noticed my bizarre lack of everything, I’m practically a statue. Other than frowning occasionally, my face and body doesn’t express anything and deep down inside, if I could describe any feelings, would be emptiness. Hollow. Soul-less.
Sixteen years old and I have been held back a year from school just because one foster family truly felt I was cursed but it just turns out, as my counselor stated, I am just mentally ill – we just don’t know from what – but that didn’t comfort them. They shipped me off a week after.
I glance around at the emptiness of my room; no pictures decorate the walls, no colorful furniture or personals. Just a bed, desk, text books and two individual bags. One for clothes and another for school.
Maybe I am mentally strange. After all I have prepared myself for another closed door.
I guess it’s a whatever.
Throwing my school bag over my shoulder and grabbing the DNA project, I head out of the apartment and to my next destination before school.
The Higurashi Shrine.
A tall red and white torii gate stands in-between me and the Higurashi Shrine’s stairs, it stares down at me challenging me to the many steps to come that years of gym haven’t prepared me for. Up above where the shrine is I can just barely make out the top of a large tree whose shadow casts darkness over a few houses to my right. I can’t imagine how tall it’d be when I am up close.
Holding the diagram closer I take the last few steps towards the torii gate, faintly my heart starts to beat faster and faster as I get closer. At first I think it must be nerves, I’ve never been here before or really get to talk to many people outside of my foster families but when I am only a foot away from the torii gate my heart is beating so quick it reminds me of a hummingbird’s wings.
I stop, take a deep and long breath but it doesn’t slow down – just stays at its rapid beat. Maybe I am getting sick. A chill runs along my body and then, out of nowhere I feel a heavy push or pull throw me forward. The diagram goes flying out of my hands as I thrust them forward to take on the damage the stairs will cause and clamp my eyes shut in fear of the collision.
I wait for impact.
But it doesn’t come.