The black dog

Chapter 3

> Wandering the streets, Mizore walked into streets she didn't go to before. She is normally a purposeful runner, so exploring surroundings was not something she did. She looked around more often, but she didn't take in the surroundings until today. She had no further plans. Mizore just knew she wasn't going home. Never again. Even though she had no idea where she would end up. Didn't interest her, as long as she was away from home. Watching out for the police won't be necessary anyway, she thought. Yet somewhere she had gotten rid of her anger and the phase of sadness and fear had come around her. She didn’t know where her sadness came from, but her fear did. Where was she to go. She had nowhere to go. Everyone would take her right back and she didn't want that. Her whole life would change. Mizore wasn't sure if she should be so happy about that. She felt alone in the world. Of course, she had friends, but they showed no interest when things didn't go well for her. In fact, they were not friends, she realized. No one to go to, no one to call. She was alone, quietly she began to feel lonely. On top of that came this strange dream of which she didn't know what to do with. Strange was the only word she had for it. No matter how tired she was, Mizore kept walking, until she came to a sign that clearly indicated that she would be out of town as soon as she passed it. For a moment she remained still.

   Mizore had made her choice by now. She had gone out of town. Not even bothering to look back yet she stepped firmly forward. Why would she want to look back at something that hurt her. Besides, she needed to be strong for herself. Mizore found it difficult to keep her tears inside. It was even beginning to hurt her to hold back the tears, but she preferred the pain of holding back her grief to the pain of letting her grief go. That pain is only for a moment, Mizore thought. She still had no idea where she should go. Now she was alone and it was better to get used to that. It would get lonely for her, but this really didn't matter to Mizore at all anymore. Rather be alone than with her mother. All this comparison that she preferred it the way it was now was haunting her mind. She tried to make herself comfortable with the situation. Mizore was well aware that the road she was walking on would go on for miles without even encountering a house. Her eyes were focused on the road that could actually use a good revamp with all the holes and bumps it possessed. The asphalt slumbered under her feet. As slowly as she walked, so did time. The sign she was passing was nowhere to be seen. The road in front of her was empty, not a person to be seen. For the first time in her life, she enjoyed that. Mizore really didn't feel like asking questions of passersby. What was it to them why she wasn't home. That was her business. To her mind, she no longer had parents. Mizore called herself an orphan from now on and just see where she would end up. All though that also was a bit rash on her side.

   Mizore took a break for herself. She had been walking for hours. She had nothing to check the time so estimating time hadn't gotten any easier either. At the meadow where a few horses were grazing. If only I were a horse like that, she thought. Mizore began to feel very tired and that on a bright day. Her eyes stayed open just barely. The grass she was sitting on was so soft, she would like to lie down and go to sleep. Not long after, Mizore layed down in the grass to close her eyes. It wasn't long before she fell into a deep sleep. She was floaty and out of nowhere she opened her eyes and she saw herself lying in the grass. 'Wait how can I see myself.' Mizore said. 'I'm dreaming. There is no other way.' she shook her head hoping to wake up, but in vain. Mizore remained suspended above herself. She did not know what was happening to her. Her body was laying on the ground. Mizore saw her body coming closer. As if she was being pulled towards it. She struggled against it, but nothing helped. She was being pulled towards her body and she didn’t have any power to go against it. When Mizore opened her eyes, she was just lying in the grass and the sun was setting. The sky was forming an orange color which made it clear that darkness would be coming soon. Mizore sat up straight in the grass and put her hand on her head. She had a headache and was momentarily lost as to what she was doing in the grass. 'I must have fallen asleep.' she said. 'Hurry up before someone comes along and starts asking questions.' she got up and continued walking.

   The stars began to shine and Mizore was still walking. Going back home hadn't even crossed her mind yet. She was blood serious when she said she hated her mother and that she wasn't coming back. Although her mother hadn't heard the latter. Right now, she hated everything and everyone. She only had to think about it or the fire was already leaping into her eyes. That dirty woman is going to pay dearly for this. For a moment she was shocked by her own thoughts. She didn't regret it, just surprised that she could think like that. To her, nothing made sense anymore. Her head was so full and yet so empty. Like her body, her thoughts had no guideline. Her feet carried her down the endless road. Dark meant really dark. When Mizore held out her hand, she didn’t even see it. ‘Just keep walking. I’ll Notice by myself when I step wrong.' she said.

No one heard her, so it didn't matter what she said. Though she preferred to hold back. Without realizing it herself, she was very wary of everything around her. The slightest sound made her want to turn around or keep walking. She wanted to see a little light again. She was right about her mother, even though deep down she secretly wished she was wrong. Mizore had to wait and see where she would end up. Her mother would regret letting her go. With all the walking, Mizore was starting to get very tired, but she couldn't give in to it. She lost control of her body. She kept walking and did not stop. Her feet were hurting very badly. Mizore had given a lot to be able to rest for a while. But stopping now would mean putting herself in danger. The one thing her mother had done right for her. She warned her that people were dangerous. Especially around this time and she meant in the dark. Suddenly she heard rustling, she looked around wildly to see where it was coming from. Completely forgetting that she didn’t see anything in the darkness. 'Is someone there?’ came out of her anxiously at first.

Mizore caught on that she was showing fear and that was not allowed in such a case. ‘If you need something from me you can just say so.’ she tried to be rude, but the fear was still there somewhere. The rustling became clearer. It made Mizore nervous. Stick stiff she remained still. She was trembling with fear and she couldn't stop it. She did have to admit to being scared. The clearer the rustling became the more nervous she became. Then the rustling stopped and it was silent again. Mizore didn't dare to move yet. She wanted to be sure the area was safe again. She kept her hands and arms close to her, hoping nothing bad would happen.

* Back in his little place, Souta plopped down on the old couch as if he had run a marathon. He didn't know what to do. He knew what he had to do, but as long as her gift was unknown to her and she hadn't accepted it yet, there was nothing he could do. That was something that frustrated him. Souta and doing nothing didn't fit. That's not how he is. Besides, he was pretty sure that dream would stay until he did something about it. Added to that, he hated fear. Fear was too dangerous for him. It showed his vulnerable side, which he hated. It was the only thing that broke his self-control. The kind of fear didn't matter either, it made him vulnerable. So, it was no wonder Souta didn't need a girlfriend. A relationship would give him the fear of losing her. Friends were not necessary to him for that reason either. Any contact he had was nothing more than colleagues to him. Sunk in his thoughts, he sat on his old couch. As always, the ticking of the clock that hung in the kitchen was heard easily. A cat clock whose eyes moved. It had to represent a Siamese which was his favorite breed. Leaning back, he sat on the couch, his hands in his hair. No idea what he should do.The urge to do something was always there. Life didn't make it any easier. Especially when he had a gift he didn't even fully appreciate. ‘A human being has no use for anything if one of the senses is taken away.’ Souta said.

   The pride Souta once possessed was now lost in an instant. He was powerless and he could do nothing about it. Even time was against him. He has seen the time on his Siamese clock at least 500 times and each time it seemed that the hands ran backwards rather than forwards. His snow-white hair hung over the back of the sofa, where his neck was pressed against. With his arms spread across the couch he stared at the kitchen which was now upside down. The couch held him down. No longer did he want to get up. Without moving, Souta sat on the couch and for a moment he felt nothing at all. He just sat. The ticking of the clock was the only thing that was really close to him. Can time get any more worthless? Souta thought. He shot up and thought of something. For another moment he just stayed put. He knew how to get her to realize what she had to do. Wouldn't be easy, but he knew who to ask for it. After all, he was figuring it out anyway. 'Guys, you have to help me or it's not going to be anything at all.' he said firmly. Voices from all sides that only he heard. They asked him what they had to do, to which he replied at length. It actually did look a little stupid. He was talking to voices. Souta didn't care. He was alone anyway. No one to disturb him. Despite a sober thought, one still wonders if he doesn't feel lonely from time to time. But that's a question that would probably remain a question. Especially when it came to Souta. It was pleasing to him when no one was able to how to fathom his thoughts. He didn't have the awareness that things would start to change quite a bit again. Though it wouldn't be long before that awareness was there.

   Souta went to his little room to look for something that was time consuming for him. He just didn't know what yet. Just something, that was his whole plan for the day. He began to wonder why his place was always so quiet. Loneliness tapped him on the shoulder, but to the tapping he did not respond. 'I'm not lonely. People are worthless anyway. All they can do is hurt you.' Souta said, suppressing his tears strongly. He grabbed some blank sheets of paper and a pen and began to write. Supporting his head, he began his first sentences. His passion that he normally had for writing was gone. Souta was just doing something, not even thinking anymore. He sank into a state of depression. His depression left him cold. He'd never had thoughts like that before. They were nasty too. Souta was well aware that depression would not help him any further. Yet the negative feeling, no matter how nasty they were, gave him an addictive feeling. His negative way of thinking carried him across the room, as if his soul was leaving his body. 'I am supposed to solve problems. Same with this problem, but I can't.' except for some scribbling, his sheet remained blank, he knew nothing. He let himself get completely carried away by his depression that gave him an addiction. Souta was certain it was playing with him. Holding it back he could not and would not. For the first time he stayed in a depressed state for a long time. Souta didn't know what to do with himself. If only there was a way to reach that girl, he thought. His voices were already on their way, but until then he had to wait. A voice was started talking behind him and shook him awake,

‘Souta?’

With an emphasis or not, without any interest in his manners, a quick snarl came out in reply.

'What do you want.' Souta said.

'Well now, don't be so blunt. I know what you're thinking about.'

'Yes, I know that myself.'

'Of course, you know that yourself, but do you know what to do with it?'

'Why should I know what to do with it?'

'Come now, do you really think I can't see that you're lonely?'

'Are you trying to make this useless conversation interesting? Because you're not doing a very good job of that.' By now had calmed down a little and was still supporting his head on his arm.

'First admit that you just want to see that girl again. It's not just about your dream.'

'Okay, I admit it. I do indeed want to see her again. Are you satisfied?’ Souta began to feel obliged to say certain words. He didn't like that, even if it was the truth.

'Since when have you been so attracted to people?' The voice knew him better than he knew himself.

'I'm not attracted to people. I need her that’s all.' Souta was growing increasingly impatient.

'That's not an answer to my question. You are attracted to her. Why? You've been staring at her all this time for a reason.'

'Have you been spying on me?' Souta removed the hand from under his head that was supposed to support his head.