Birth of The Nightmare: A Story of the Broken

Chapter 11: Makoto Flashback Chapter 8: I Hate Myself


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I rushed over as quickly as I could to the toilet in my bathroom, still wearing my workout clothes, and threw up, violently, into the toilet bowl I was now hovering over.  I could feel the back of my throat burn as the vomit left my mouth and my entire body began trembling as I continued to throw up.  Luckily, I had made it to the toilet in time and avoided throwing up on the floor or the carpet.  As pathetic as it was, sometimes, the sickness would get so bad, without any warning, that I wouldn’t be able to make it to the toilet in time.  This meant that I not only had to deal with the embarrassment of throwing up on the floor or carpet but I had to clean up the mess as well which only made my pain hurt even more.  I hunched over the toilet until I was sure I was finished.  I knew that the morning was going to be rough because of the extra reading that I had done, yesterday, but I didn't think my body would flare up this bad. When I, initially, woke up, my entire body felt like absolute booty cheeks.  My hip on the left side was crazy tender and sore; my left arm, specifically my hand, had sharp pain in it, my entire spine ached even worse than last night and I had excruciating nausea the entire morning.  I was able to get up, take my Pre-Workout and get through my morning exercise, in the hopes of pushing through the pain since the workouts do usually help, at least, at first.  Unfortunately, as soon as I was finished with my workout and while I was in the middle of my stretching, the nausea became too much for me to handle and I rushed to the toilet to throw up.  I was sweating, now, and panting like a dog that had just went on a long walk during the hottest part of the day.  All of this was because of my own fucking stupidity. 

Damn it.  Damn it.  Damn it.  If I hadn't done that extra fucking reading, I wouldn't be in this damn mess.  I...there's no way I can make it to the school in this state, I thought to myself, realizing how this sickness usually just got worse after I threw up, in addition to worsened symptoms pain-wise as well.  Makoto is going to have another shitty day at school because of me and my stupid fucking decisions.  It's not fair to her that I'm so damn pathetic.  If she had anyone else as a helper, she would be fine but no, she has me, the most worthless helper a girl like her could have.  God, I fucking hate myself so much. 

I punched the base of the bottom of the toilet in anger, increasing my hand pain in the process, and could feel tears running down my cheeks from my own frustration with myself. 

I'm so sorry, Makoto.  I'm so fucking sorry. 

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Well, Monday was a giant fucking bust but, thankfully, Makoto didn't seem to have too bad of a day at the school which was a huge relief.  It was now, Tuesday, the day after I was supposed to begin helping Makoto at her school.  I had just entered the building and was, aimlessly, wandering the hallways, trying to find her classroom number that the front desk gave me when I checked in with them.  I was really lucky that most of the pain and sickness was gone from yesterday because it typically lasted for a couple of days.  It must have been how badly I wanted to get to the school because I knew Makoto needed me.  My work didn't care too much about me missing the first school session due to pain and illness.  They were probably used to it.  I always questioned how much my work hated me for this?  It was probably a huge inconvenience for them to have an employee like me around.  I wondered why they bothered?  Must have been desperate on employees.  There was a high dropout rate when it came to this job...not too many people stay after learning how stressful and difficult the it could be.  I guess my life was already filled with nothing but stress and pain so this didn't really phase me as much.  Finally, after dicking around, trying to find Makoto's room for what felt like ten minutes, I found the room number that the front desk lady had given. I could feel the nerves in my stomach as I stared at the classroom door.  It had been a while since I had been in the school setting and I would be lying if I said it didn't make me feel nervous.  I knew I needed to be careful, though, because if I wasn't, I might end up puking, again, so I took a deep breath and let it out, before knocking on the door a bit lighter than I probably should have.  It was such a pitiful knock that I wondered if the teacher even heard it?  Before I knocked again, the door opened and I was greeted to a woman in her 30s, with short, dark black hair, smiling at me.  

"Hello, you must be Ms. Yuuki," the kindergarten teacher said, smiling.  "You're here for Makoto, right?"

"Y-Yes," I stammered, sounding less certain than I should have. 

"Come on in, I'll show you where she sits," the teacher invited.  "I actually left the desk behind her empty so you could sit close to her in case she needs any help."

I, awkwardly, made my way into the classroom and followed the teacher past a couple of kids, who were looking at me, strangely.  I couldn't blame them.  An unfamiliar adult...half an adult...just wandering into their classroom must have been pretty weird. I pondered if I should have introduced...

Before I could finish the thought, the kindergarten teacher stopped, before reaching Makoto's desk and called the attention of the entire class so that they were now staring at us.  

“We have a new member of our class, today!” the teacher announced, taking me off guard.  “Would you like to introduce yourself to the class?”

No, I actually wouldn't, I thought to myself, trying my best to avoid the eye contact of all the little kids looking through my fucking soul. 

"Uh...um...my name is Mayumi Yuuki," I introduced. 

"You're too old to be in kindergarten," one of the female students called out.

"And tall!" 

"Well, that's because she isn't a student," corrected the teacher.  "She's Makoto's little helper so she'll be sitting behind her to give her some extra help.  She's an adult so remember, do your best to treat her with the same respect you would me or any of the other aides in the classroom."

There was a long and, painfully, awkward pause as the kindergarteners attempted to figure out what the teacher meant. 

"She's pretty," one of the male students commented, randomly, and I sighed to myself, realizing how much I hated my life.

I thought really fucking hard about ignoring the compliment but forced myself to mutter a "Thank you." 

"Makoto's right over there," said the teacher, pointing towards the back of the classroom, in the first row of desks.

The first thing that I noticed was that Makoto wasn't sitting in the chair but, instead, on the carpet, under her desk. 

"She finished the numbers worksheet really quickly and as soon as she was done, she just kind of moved to the carpet to work on her sketchbook," whispered the teacher to me.  "Since she's done with her work, I didn't think there was anything wrong with it but we are about to move on so it might be a good idea for her to return to her seat."

"Okay, I'll see what I can do," I responded, not taking my eyes off of Makoto, who was looking up from her sketchbook and waving at me, from underneath her desk, on the carpet. 

I walked over to her where her seat was and could still feel the majority of the kindergarteners' eyes on me but I did my best to ignore it.  Finally, I arrived at Makoto's desk and sat on the carpet, next to it.

"H-Hello, Ms. Yuuki...I'm...glad...you're here...today," Makoto said from under the desk.

"Yeah, I'm really sorry I couldn't come, yesterday...something...came up."

I couldn't tell Makoto the real reason why I wasn't at the school to help her.  How could I?  I doubted she would ask more about it, anyways.

"Uh, I'm guessing you got tired of sitting in the chair and wanted to be comfortable when working in your sketchbook?" I guessed and Makoto nodded her head, yes.  "Uh, I'm a bit confused on why you're sitting under your desk, instead of next to it, where I'm sitting."

Makoto looked to her left and then her right, before answering, "I...don't...want...anyone to...see."

She pointed to her sketchbook to further explain what she meant.

Oh, she's using the desk to shield the other students from seeing what she's working on, I concluded to myself.  That makes sense, I guess.  It took her quite a while to warm up to me enough to allow me to watch her work on her comic books.  It seems she won't just allow anyone to view them.  I wonder what she would do if the teacher asked to see what she was working on?  I doubt she would attack her or yell at her but it probably wouldn't be good. 

"Well, it's okay that you're down here but, the teacher just told me that she's going to move onto the next assignment," I said.  "Do you think you could sit in your chair just while you're working on the assignment and then when you're done, you can return to this spot?"

Makoto thought for a moment and nodded her head, yes.  I was lucky that she was so good at transitioning.  I'd had other kids that if I asked them to return to their seats, they would have whined, hit me or cussed me out.  This was a nice change of pace.  Makoto scooted out from under her desk, placed her sketchbook into her backpack and returned to her seat.  I picked myself up off of the carpet and plopped myself in the desk behind her, still holding my iPad. 

"Ms. Yuuki...Ms. Yuuki...Ms. Yuuki." 

At first, I thought she was trying to get my attention but I just realized she was saying my name, repeatedly, in a quiet tone, to herself.  She had a slight smile on her face, helping me understand that she was excited but I noticed in the corner of my eye, that this repetition of quiet words was drawing the attention of some of the kids sitting around her. 

Hm...she uses the repetition of words when excited...I wonder if she uses it when she's distressed as well?  The term for this is called, Echolalia, and I've worked with a couple of kiddos, who have done this for various reasons so I'm used to it but I can see why it would look strange to the other kids.  Luckily, it doesn't seem like Makoto cares and it's quiet enough so that it's not being bothersome.  I'll just ignore it unless it becomes too loud.

*

*

*

Makoto did very well on the next assignment that the teacher had her do which involved doing a coloring worksheet.  In fact, she managed to finish it well before the other students did and got to work on her comic book some more...under the table, of course.  Although, the activity the teacher had them do next did cause her to struggle a bit more, I noticed.  Unsurprisingly, it required more motor skills, something that most kids with ASD struggled with significantly since many of them, including Makoto, had severely delayed motor skills.  It was an arts and crafts assignment and the teacher had passed out a thing of clay for each student to make various shapes with.  They were supposed to make a circle, a square, a rectangle and a triangle.  They must have been working with shapes, at the moment, so I guess this activity wasn't without its purpose.  Makoto stared at the clay, blankly, while the other kids were already creating their second or third shape.  I observed that she looked at the teacher at the front of the classroom and began biting on her finger, almost like she was thinking about asking for help but couldn't will herself to do it.  

Hm, just like I thought, she has trouble manding or asking for help.  Ideally, I would like to get her comfortable enough to ask the teacher for help but a good step would be to have her ask me for help since I'm closer to her and then transition her to asking the teacher for help, to promote more independence. 

Makoto seemed frustrated and she tore off a piece of the clay and stared at it for a second.

Oh, is she actually going to try to get the first shape on her own? I predicted to myself.  Maybe, I'll give her a chance to see if she can do it herself.

Unfortunately, instead of attempting to make a shape, Makoto opened her mouth and attempted to put the clay in it.

Fuck's sake, I thought to myself.

"Makoto," I said, quietly, getting her attention and, thankfully, stopping her from eating the clay. 

She stared at me, blankly, not realizing what she was doing wrong.

"Do you need some help?" I asked. 

Makoto bobbed her head, yes. 

"That's awesome; I'd totally be willing to give you some help but I need you to try asking for help the correct way.  Do you remember how to do it?  Don't forget to use the person's name that you're talking to."

Makoto squinted her eyes at me and bit the tip of her finger while she thought about what to say. 

"C-Can...I...please...have some help...Ms. Yuuki?" she asked, just like we had practiced.

"Of course, thank you for asking so nicely," I praised. 

I got up from my seat and knelt down beside her desk to assist Makoto in making various shapes.  For the circle and square, I was able to use hand-over-hand prompting to assist Makoto in making the shapes, herself, with me guiding her hands with my own.  Although, for the triangle and rectangle, I had to more or less do these for her as she watched how I did it.  They were trickier shapes so I didn't mind and I doubted the teacher would as well.  Plus, she was able to do the first two, with the hand-over-hand technique, so that was good for her.  The teacher walked over to us and saw that all of the shapes were finished.

"Wow, you did such a good job on these, Makoto," the teacher complimented, smiling.  "Did you ask Ms. Yuuki for some help?"

Makoto nodded her head, yes, in response.

"Very good.  Remember, there's nothing wrong with asking for help...whether it's help from Ms. Yuuki or myself," the teacher reminded. 

Makoto didn't really respond to the teacher and chose to stare at her desk, instead, avoiding eye contact with her. 

"We're actually going to do some circle time here in a minute," the teacher claimed.  "I really hope you sit a bit closer to the rest of the class, today, Makoto."

Makoto frowned at the mention of circle time and I could already tell that it was a non-preferred activity just by the look on her face. 

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*

Just like I had predicted, Makoto wasn't a big fan of circle time, which involved the students sitting on the floor at the front of the classroom, by each other, listening to the teacher while she did various things like going over the calendar, doing some reading, and other small things that, sometimes, required class engagement.  I was curious as to how far Makoto actually sat away from the rest of the class during this time and I got my answer in the form of Makoto, immediately, getting up from her seat and sitting on the carpet right next to her desk which was significantly far away from the other kids and the teacher.

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Hm, at least she's not under the desk, I thought to myself, trying to look on the bright side.  Still, it would be more ideal if she sat a bit closer to the other kids, not just so she can hear the teacher but to get her more used to being by her peers.

"Hey Makoto, do you want to sit in my lap?" I asked as she perked up and nodded her head, yes.

My poor fucking hips, I, internally, dreaded to myself but forced a smile. 

"You have to follow me, then, because I want to sit a little closer to the teacher so I can hear her better," I baited. 

I walked a bit closer to the front of the classroom, making sure that there was still a little space between me and the last row of students.  I sat on the carpet and crossed my legs over one another. Without warning, Makoto plopped herself, right on top of my lap, and began biting on her lip in distress at being so close to the rest of the class.

Fucking shit fuck, I cursed to myself in pain. 

Makoto stared up at me as I coughed in pain, trying to mask how I was really feeling.  Again, I put on a forced smile to put her mind at ease. 

"Makoto...remember, hair, instead of mouth," I reminded, through the pain. 

Makoto paused the biting of her lip, got a strand of her curly hair and began biting on it, instead.

The teacher at the front of the classroom saw the two of us and seemed genuinely happy that Makoto was sitting closer. She started off with doing some reading and then transitioned to her calendar that was on the wall. 

"Okay, I need someone to come up here and tell us what the date is, today," she said.

Oh, she's going to hate me for this, I thought, realizing that this was the perfect opportunity to get Makoto more involved. 

"Hey Makoto, we've practiced telling time and the date during our sessions," I whispered to her. "Why don't you raise your hand and volunteer?"

Makoto shook her head, no, which was a rarity for her.  I guess it showed how much she really didn't want to do this. 

"Alright, so, who wants to do it, today?" the teacher asked.

None of the other kids raised their hands and I whispered, "Makoto, if you don't raise your hand, I'm going to tickle you until you do."

I knew how ticklish she was and Makoto frowned at me and puffed out her cheeks in defiance. None of the other kids were raising their hands, yet, so I still had time.  I began tickling Makoto's sides, one of the areas where she was most ticklish and she began trying her best not to laugh.  It only took a couple of seconds for her to start giggling, drawing the attention of the teacher and the rest of the kids. Wanting to make it stop because of how embarrassed she felt, Makoto raised her hand so that the teacher would call on her.

"Oh, Makoto, would you like to give it a try?" the teacher said, noticing her hand.  “How exciting!  I’m so happy you’re getting involved, today.  Come on up, then." 

Makoto turned around to scowl at me which I fully expected.

"Don't worry, I'll walk up there with you," I offered. "You'll be fine."

The two of us got up and walked to the front of the class where the calendar was.  Makoto held my hand, the entire time.  She stared at today's date on the calendar and then muttered something, inaudible, under her breath, while facing away from both the teacher and the rest of the class.

"Makoto, remember to face the class and speak just a little bit louder," I, politely, reminded, causing Makoto to, reluctantly, turn to face the other students.

"T-Today's...date...is S-September 29th."

Makoto had forgotten the year but the teacher and I both observed that she began her humming as soon as she finished and was now looking down to avoid eye contact with the other students. 

Better not push her too hard. She's done enough.

"Good job, Makoto, let's go back to our seat," I said.

"Let's give Makoto a round of applause for how well she did," instructed the teacher. 

The sound of other students clapping on our way back to our spot did nothing but strengthen the grip Makoto had on my hand and, in return, the pain that I felt in that hand.  It was worth it, though.  That couldn't have been easy for Makoto. She did really well. 

*

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*

After circle time, we had PE and everything was going pretty well, initially.  Makoto was able to do the first part of the warm-up without any issue but then the second half of the warmup came, which involved a light jog from the class.  Makoto did join the rest of the class in their jog around the gymnasium but I could see that Makoto was landing, toe first, with every step and was grimacing in pain, every time her foot made contact with the floor.  I could also, see that she was muttering something to herself but I was unable to tell what it was from where I was standing. 

Running might not be the best fit for her, I thought to myself as her jogging got slower and slower until she came to a full stop and began walking to where I was. 

She plopped herself down on the floor, next to me, giving up, entirely, without asking the PE teacher if she could. 

Huh, there's a lot wrong with how she handled that.  I'm not sure where to really begin.  Hm.

"Uh, Makoto, you didn't ask the PE teacher if you could sit out," I commented and she looked up at me.

"He's...used to it," she replied, causing me to meet the eyes of the PE teacher, who just shrugged at me, clearly unsure of what to do about Makoto's reluctance to participate.  "I tried...to use words...didn't work...he didn't...listen."

Well, it is impressive that she tried to use her words to express to the PE teacher how the jogging made her feel.  However, I don't think her giving up, entirely, is for the best.

"Hey, Makoto, stand up real quick, I'm going to show you something," I announced.

Makoto looked at me, annoyed, but got up.  We made our way back to where the other students were still jogging. 

"Okay, follow my lead," I instructed. "Instead of jogging, I want you to try to just walk a little fast." 

I demonstrated how to walk fast and correctly, with my heel landing, first, and Makoto followed my lead, to the best of her ability.  While showing her how to walk, correctly, I had to force myself to walk in a way that wasn’t comfortable for me, either.  Unfortunately, just like Makoto, I was a toe walker as well and when I wasn’t at work, I still did, for the most part, walk on my toes at my apartment.  I wanted to be a good example for Makoto, though, and was hoping that if she saw me walking, heal-first, she would learn how to walk, correctly, at a young age, so she wouldn’t have to ever get made fun of for walking on her toes.  Lord knows I did…and still do when I fail to remember to walk, heel-first, in public.  She didn't seem to be in pain when she was walking fast and as soon as she looked tired, I slowed down and allowed her to walk at a slower pace.  I repeated this a couple of times until the PE teacher blew his whistle, indicating that the children could stop their jogging. 

"There, that wasn't too bad, was it?" I asked, checking in with Makoto.

"It was...better...no pain," Makoto confirmed. 

"Alright, let's go talk to the PE teacher about maybe having you do this instead of the jogging," I said, a bit fatigued from the exercise, myself. 

After explaining how the replacement of walking fast instead of running would be a good fit for Makoto, rather than the jogging, the PE teacher claimed that he understood and encouraged Makoto to do that instead of giving up, completely.  Once the warm up was finished, the class practiced bouncing basketballs.  Luckily, Makoto participated without resistance but did seem to struggle a bit with not losing control of the ball.  I ended up using some hand-over-hand prompts to assist her a bit since the PE teacher was so busy helping other kids. 

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After PE, was lunch and, to be honest, lunch was pretty uneventful.  Makoto sat by herself at the end of one of the tables and I sat in front of her.  She ate most of her lunch and I practiced some of the communication programs with her so we would get more used to conversing.  It did make me a tad sad that she was eating alone and I wished that there was at least, one other kid sitting by her that was closer to her age than me.  On the other hand, I didn't want to force it, yet, either, since I knew it would cause Makoto a lot of stress and lunch seemed to be a good time for her to relax, after being so stressed and agitated for most of the first half of the day. 

*

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Recess was a bit strange, to say the least.  I was wondering what Makoto usually did for recess since I had never seen her really play with other kids or do anything at all outside.  As soon as we got outside, Makoto made her way to the back wall of the school, sat in front of it and began working in her sketchbook that she had brought with her to lunch.  Every once in a while, she would glance up to watch the other children playing but for the most part, just tapped her knee until she thought of something to write or draw. 

I don't think the sketchbook during recess is necessarily a bad idea but it might be a good idea for Makoto to get some exercise.  Maybe, there's something I can play with her that won't be too stressful for her?

I made my way over to the bin that had all of the different balls that the kids could play with during recess and saw that there was a soccer ball in it that nobody was using.  I picked up the soccer ball and made my way back to Makoto, who was still sitting on the grass, working in her sketchbook.  She glanced at me in the corner of her eye and saw what I was holding but turned her attention back to her sketchbook.

"Hey, Makoto, I was thinking the two of us could play with the soccer ball for a couple of minutes and then you could go back to your sketchbook, after.  How does that sound?"

Makoto paused her work on her sketchbook and stared at me, blankly.  I could tell by the look on her face that she really didn't want to.

"I promise it won't be too bad," I convinced.  "You don't want me to play by myself, do you?  That would be kind of sad."

Makoto did her usual humming but decided to put her sketchbook to the side, momentarily, and got up off of the ground. I had Makoto stand just a couple feet away from me so that the activity wouldn't be too challenging for her.  I placed the soccer ball on the ground and kicked it as softly as I could towards Makoto.  The ball rolled towards her, slowly, and, without needing to tell her to, she kicked the ball back to me, just like I had done.  Makoto and I repeated this for a couple of minutes and I even backed up a few feet since she seemed pretty capable of kicking the soccer ball.  On top of that, Makoto didn't seem to hate the activity which was good, meaning that I could incorporate it into future school sessions.  I allowed Makoto to return to her sketchbook for the remainder of recess and smiled at her while she did so.

It seems like me being here was a good idea, after all, I decided to myself.  I can already tell that she's going to make a ton of progress this year.

*

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Just like I had predicted, Makoto made a significant amount of progress in various areas throughout my time with her during kindergarten.  She learned how to ask for help from not just me but other teachers.  She got better at knowing when she needed to take a break and how to ask for one.  Her motor skills saw significant improvement and by the end of the year, she was able to cut, glue and fold things all on her own, without any help from me.  In PE, Makoto got better at participating in the activities, without me being right beside her to encourage her, and at recess, we continued playing soccer with each other for longer and longer periods of time.  The only thing that the poor girl still struggled with was being more social but, even then, she was talking to other kids a bit more.  Even a little improvement in this area was something.  Plus, there was always first grade, where we could work on socializing a bit more by having her attempt partner or group work with her peers.  I was proud of her, though.  I already knew Makoto was smart to begin with but now that she had a better handle on the things that were troubling her, there wasn't anything to get in the way of her achieving her vast potential.

 

Author's Note: Hello, thank you so much for reading this chapter!  The beginning of this chapter saw Mayumi, for the first time in the series, failing Makoto in some way.  Even if it was because of her pain, this didn't make her any less harsh on herself.  Although, the rest of the chapter featured Mayumi assisting Makoto in the school setting, addressing a lot of the problems that were previously introduced in the chapter focusing on Makoto's first day of school.  Mayumi and Makoto's interactions are always something that I enjoy writing and this chapter gave me the opportunity to really just focus on the two of them which was a nice change of pace.  For the next chapter, we will be returning back to the present and thanks again for reading!  

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