Chapter 26: Makoto Flashback Chapter 19: Eyes of a Demon (Vol. 1)

Worthless.  Worthless.  Worthless.  How could one person be so fucking worthless?  Why the fuck did I even take this stupid job?!  I'm not any good at it.  These kids would be better off with someone, who wasn't a complete mess, herself.  Someone, who could actually make them feel better.  Someone, who wasn't me.  I just don't fucking get it.  I'll never fucking get it.  Why does God let a pathetic fuckwit like me live?  For what reason?  Is it to see me live my pathetic excuse for a life?  Does God get entertainment out of seeing my constant fuck ups?  Or, am I just being punished for being the worthless piece of shit that I am?  Yeah, that's most likely it.  I'm just being punished.  I deserve to be punished.  I deserve it more than anyone.  I deserve to be in more pain.  I deserve to lose my job.  I deserve to live my entire life, alone, without ever finding someone, who loves me.  Who could love someone like me?  I deserve to have my entire body covered in scars.  I deserve to die.  I deserve to die.  I deserve to die.

Beep! Beep! Beep!

The loud sound of the alarm clock that was next to my bed snapped me out of the anxiety episode that I was having.  All of the pain from the excessive picking of my lower stomach hit me all at once, making me feel sick.  On top of that, I already felt mentally exhausted from all of the constant anxiety and worry.  The worst part was that my day was just starting.  The entire anxiety episode was caused by my constant guilt about not being able to do anything to help Makoto feel better.  It was my job to...the reason I got paid.  And, I couldn't even do this.  She must have been so disappointed in me.  Not that I could blame her.  Today, was her first day back at school since the passing of her father and I just knew it was going to be a fucking mess of a day.  To be honest, I just didn't want to deal with it.  More than anything, I just wanted to lock myself in my room like a hermit and just never fucking leave, again.  I knew that wasn't an option, though.  I had to force myself out of bed to begin my shitty fucking day.  Not for my sake but for Makoto's.  Hopefully, I would be able to make her feel a little better but, knowing myself better than anyone, I recognized I would probably just make things worse or not help at all. 

I stared at the index finger and thumb of my left hand, the culprits of all of the picking of my lower stomach.  They were even bloodier and filled with more dead skin than usual.  I sighed to myself, dreading the thought of how painful my morning shower was going to be. 

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Hm...Jason still isn't back, I thought to myself, looking around Ms. Williams' classroom, from my seat, behind Makoto's.  Hopefully, that little dude comes back soon.  He might be able to do a better job at making Makoto feel better than me.

Makoto hadn't said a word to me or anyone, for that matter, this morning.  She just sat, quietly, in her seat and did what was asked of her by Ms. Williams.  She didn't pay any mind to any of the other students, who I could hear whispering and gossiping about her.  It was like she was in her own little world which was probably for the best, considering the world around her was so shit.  All I could do was watch her back, desperately trying to think of something to make her feel better.  Unfortunately, and, unsurprisingly, nothing came to mind...nothing at all. 

I'm sorry, Makoto.  I wish there was something I could do or say to make all of your pain go away.  If it was possible, I would take all of the pain you're feeling right now and put it into myself so you didn't have to deal with it. 

"Mmmmmmmm"

The sound of Makoto's humming, caused me to look at her.  At first, I didn't think much of it since she hummed quite often for various reasons.  Then...

"Hurp! Hurp! Hurp!"

Oh shit!

After recognizing the sound all too well, I began moving with speed I didn't know I still had.  I took Makoto, as gently as I could, and forced her to the trashcan by the front door of the classroom and had her hunch over it.

"Bleck!  Bleck!  Bleck!" 

While Makoto threw up into the trash can, I began rubbing her back, in the hopes this would make the process easier for her.  Her tiny body trembled, terribly, the entire time she was throwing up while I tried to keep her hair out of her face with the hand that wasn't rubbing her back.  

"Ewwwwww!" a voice called out, mockingly.

There was no mistaking it.  It was Xander.  As much as I wanted to turn around, pick up an entire desk with strength I didn't have and chunk it at the little shit's head to make him shut the fuck up, I chose just to bite my tongue and ignore it.  Plus, I needed to focus my attention on Makoto.

"That's so gross!" another girl in the classroom spoke up. 

"Is she sick?" 

"That's so disgusting."

"Why did she have to do it in the classroom?  Now it smells horrible!" 

The comments from the other students just kept coming and coming.

Shut the fuck up!  All of you!  Can't you see you're making this worse?  Kids...they're exactly the same as when I was in school.  Terrible little shits.  If I say any of this out loud, though, I'll be fired, on the spot.  Damn it.  Damn it! 

As soon as Makoto was finished puking, I could hear her begin to cry and, from what it sounded like, it was going to escalate into a meltdown.  The kids were already being mean to Makoto from just puking.  The thought of them making fun of her while she was crying made me decide to escort her out into the hallway so she didn't have to cry in front of them. 

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"Wahhhh....Wa...wahhhhhhhh!" Makoto wailed, uncontrollably, while the two of us were in the hallway. 

She pressed her tiny forehead against my hand harder than she usually did, emphasizing how bad of a meltdown she was having.  It was hard for me to tell why exactly Makoto had thrown up in class.  If I had to guess, I would say it was that thinking about losing her father caused her so much grief and stress, that it resulted in her feeling sick enough to warrant puking.  In between her wails of grief, she would pause for just a second and do a little hum, before resuming the loud crying. 

Getting sick because of her own thoughts...I...believed I was the only one, who had to suffer through shit like that, I told myself.  That was stupid and selfish of me.  Of course, there were others, who had to deal with that kind of thing and, they probably handled it a lot better than I did.  But, that just makes me feel even worse for Makoto.  She's still so young...to suffer from something that I do as an adult.  It's so fucking frustrating.  Why does she have to go through this?  Didn't she have enough problems already, for fuck's sake?  Why give her more?

I stopped these thoughts from surfacing, wanting to avoid what happened earlier in the morning. Plus, I didn't have time to get lost in my thoughts, right now, especially, because Makoto wasn't finished with her meltdown. 

Not knowing what else to do, I began talking to her as calmly as I could, given the situation, "Makoto, I'm so sorry that you're going through something like this.  It...breaks my heart that you lost your dad in such a cruel and awful way.  I...lost my dad at a young age as well...he didn't die but...he might as well have.  He was dead to me...still is, for that matter.  Living without a dad in your life is one of the worst things someone can go through."

"I-I loved daddy...s-so much," said Makoto, through her tears.  "H-He...w-was always there w-when I needed him most.  I-I want him back.  W-Why c-can't he j-just come back?  W-Why did he h-have to die?"

Both of those were good questions that I didn't have an answer for so I just sat there in silence, on the floor of the school hallway. 

"A-And now...t-the class t-thinks I'm weird...b-because I p-puked."

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about. We all get sick sometimes, Makoto."

"B-But, I didn't puke because I was sick! I...I don't know w-why I puked!" 

"Ya know, sometimes, when I get really anxious or worried, I throw up," I admitted, for the first time in my life, to someone else. 

Makoto sniffled but stopped crying for a second.

"R-Really?"

"Haha, yeah, it happens more than you would think.  I've always been kind of a worrier.  Can't say I'm a big fan of it, either, but, I promise you, you aren't the only one who gets sick from being scared or anxious.  Far from it.  I'm sure there's lots of people in the world, who do the exact same thing."

"I-I don't like t-to worry. I-It hurts."

"I know," I responded, hurt by what I was hearing.  "When we let that worry build up too much or for too long, that's when we tend to get sick from it.  I know it's not much in the way of help but, if you ever want to tell me about your worries, I would be more than happy to listen to every single one of them. And, I promise, I will never judge you for any of the worries you have. It's not much but—"

"I-I w-will t-too," Makoto said, before I could finish.

I tilted my head in confusion at her comment while she lifted hers off of my hand, temporarily. I was then greeted to a sight that I was worried I would never see, again. Makoto gave me a half smile. 

"W-When you have worries, M-Ms. Yuuki, I-I'll listen to t-them t-too. I-I won't j-judge y-you, either."

Someone...to listen to my worries. That was a thing that I wished for nearly every night of my miserable life.  I hated talking about my worries with people because I knew doing it made their lives more stressful than they already were.  I used to think it made me a bigger burden than I already was.  But, this little girl, actually...wanted to listen to them. No one...had ever said that to me, before.

"I-I've never s-seen y-you cry before, Ms. Yuuki," Makoto commented.

I touched my cheeks in panic, feeling the tears that were rolling down them.  I hadn't even realized I was crying until Makoto said something.  Crying in front of a kiddo was extremely looked down upon at my job...there were plenty of times that I wanted to but I always told myself I couldn't or I would get in trouble.  Here I was, though.  Crying.  Right in front of Makoto. 

"I-It's okay, Ms. Yuuki," Makoto comforted, noticing that I seemed concerned about the fact that I was crying. "D-Daddy always u-used to say t-that there's nothing wrong w-with crying a-and that it's a-actually good too, sometimes.  W-We can cry, t-together." 

Makoto wrapped her arms around me to hug me.

I-It's my job to comfort her but...she's the one comforting me...ha...I really am pathetic, I thought to myself, despite feeling much better from the hug. 

"P-Please, d-don't ever leave me, Ms. Yuuki," Makoto pleaded in a muffled tone since her face was still buried into the shirt I was wearing. 

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I had no idea what the future had in store for me and I, seriously, doubted it would be good, considering my pain, anxiety, depression and all of my other countless problems only seemed to be getting worse every year.  Still, knowing that there was one person, who needed me this much, made me push these fears to the back of my mind.

"Y-Yeah, don't worry, Makoto.  I'm not going, anywhere."

Whether the words would end up being true or not, I meant every word of what I had just said.

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My face still hurts from where that stupid kid hit me, thought Xander to himself, while sitting at a lunch table with his friends.  He doesn't seem to be back, yet, since Makoto is eating by herself.  Serves her right. Weirdo.  Who pukes in the middle of class like that?  She was crying forever outside the classroom too and it was so annoying.  Everyone in the class could hear her.  

Xander glanced over at the table Makoto sat at, where she was, slowly, eating her food, like usual, trying her best not to meet anyone's gaze.  It could have been Xander's imagination but she seemed...different.  He hadn't seen her in a couple of days because she missed school but he had no clue why. 

"Do you know why Makoto hasn't been at school?" asked Xander, hoping one of his friends could answer him. 

His friends looked at each other, grimly, which took Xander off guard a bit.

"W-What's wrong?  D-Did I say something weird?"

"Xander, do you seriously not know what happened?" asked one of his friends, assuming everyone in the school knew. 

"N-No, I don't have a clue.  She's just been acting weirder, today...weirder than usual."

"Her father died," said the friend, who was always against the idea of harassing Makoto. 

He was also, the only one of Xander's friends that didn't get in any trouble for the incident with Jason.  Xander detected a hint of "I told you so" in the tone of his voice but he overlooked this as the words sank deep into his mind.

D-Dead?  H-Her dad...d-died?  How? 

"I...kind of feel bad for being mean to her, now," admitted one of Xander's friends, guiltily. 

"Yeah, I can't imagine losing one of my parents like that," added another one of his friends.  "I don't think...I could handle it."

"What do you think, Xander?" questioned the friend, that was never mean to Makoto.  "Do you still think being mean to her is alright?  Are you still going to treat her badly from now on?"

Xander didn't have an answer for his friend.  He was too lost in his own thoughts.  Losing a father...that was something...that Xander could relate to.  His own father died when he was 3-years old so he didn't remember him too well.  The only thing he could recall was how his mom used to smile so much more when he was around, compared to when he wasn't.  After his passing, his mother was never the same.  As much as Makoto annoyed him to no end, he never wanted something like this to happen to her. Xander, without realizing it, glanced in Makoto's direction, again, and this time their eyes met.  The look in her eyes reminded him of something that he never wanted to remember.  It was the same pained expression that Xander would have on his face when his mother would abuse him and his little sister...scared...sad...devoid of all hope, whatsoever.  For the first time, Xander began reflecting on his treatment of Makoto.

M-My mom told me that I should be mean to her because...s-she'll make life harder for Madi, Xander thought to himself.   I-I just wanted my mom...to be...proud of me.  I d-didn't want her dad to die like mine did.  Can I still be mean to her, now?  What good has being mean to her gotten me?  Yeah, it's made mom treat me a little better but I keep getting in trouble, I got beat up by that Jason kid and I feel like my friends don't even like me as much, anymore.  Being mean to Makoto hasn't helped in any way other than making my mom prouder of me.  I don't want to be mean to Makoto, anymore, but I don't want to be nice to her, either.  I'll just return her stupid scissors I stole, say sorry about her dad and then just ignore her, her helper and that Jason kid.  I don't want anything to do with them, from now on.  I just won't tell mom about it.

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"U-Uh, hey, Makoto," Xander greeted, awkwardly, startling the poor girl.

School had just ended and the two were the only ones left standing in the hallways.  Makoto was, usually, the last kid out of the classroom because she spent so much time making sure she had everything, including her sketchbook, before going home for the day.  Xander knew his mom was going to be late picking him up because she told him she would be in the morning.  There weren't any other teachers or students in the hallway...just the two of them which made the confrontation even more uncomfortable for the two.  Xander could tell that Makoto was more on edge just from Xander speaking to her so this made him want to end the conversation as quickly as possible.  Because of this, Xander didn't keep speaking, and, instead, took his backpack off, unzipped it and pulled out the scissors he had stolen from her, to give them back to Makoto. 

"H-Here, Makoto," said Xander, holding out the scissors to her, without looking at her while he did it.  "I...was the one who took them.  I'm not going to apologize or anything...I...just didn't want to hold onto them, anymore.  That's it.  So, don't make a big deal out of it.  I still don't like you and I never will."

Despite not looking at Makoto while he spoke, Xander could feel her cold, icy hands, take the scissors from him.  He breathed a sigh of relief, believing that the interaction could now end. 

"Well, that's all I wanted to say.  I need to get going because my mom—"

Xander felt one of the same cold, icy hands he had just felt, grip his throat, with an incredible amount of force.

Huh? he thought, exasperated. 

Before he knew it, Xander was sent flying into one of the walls of the hallway with the hand still, firmly, grasping his throat.  The grip tightened...more and more...until he found himself struggling to breathe.  The one, who had a death grip on his throat, was Makoto, the same weak girl, he would always pick on. 

"M-Mak...oto," Xander struggled. 

He noticed that Makoto's other hand, that was holding the scissors he had returned to her, was shaking, violently.

"Daddy...died...getting me...new scissors," Makoto spoke, coldly, in an eerie tone Xander hadn't heard from her, before. 

It made his skin crawl, from how different it was from Makoto's usual voice, in addition to the fact that Makoto didn't stutter a single time when speaking. 

"He died...because...you took my scissors."

What is she talking about? thought Xander, as he began to panic, due to his current situation.  Her dad...was buying...scissors when he died?  T-That would mean...

"It's your fault," blamed Makoto, before Xander could come to the same conclusion.  "You're the reason he's dead.  I'll never see daddy, again, because of you.  It's not fair.  He shouldn't have been the one, who died.  It should have been you, Xander."

Xander couldn't even process the guilt at this point because Makoto's grip around his throat had gotten so tight that he was beginning to lose consciousness. 

H-How does she have so much strength?  I-I thought she was weak?  I-Is she going to kill me? Am...I going to die?

"Why does someone mean like you get to live and daddy doesn't?" questioned Makoto with more anger in her voice than Xander had ever heard.  "How is that fair?  If daddy had to die so should you, Xander.  You should die too.  Die.  Die.  Die."

Xander was, barely, able to remain conscious.  His vision was incredibly blurry, his hearing was muffled and his entire body felt weak. 

I-Is she going to...stab me with the scissors? Xander thought, staring, directly, at the scissors that were in Makoto's hand.  Or, is she just going to choke me to death?  Either way, I'm going to die.  No, I can't die.  I can't die because...Madi needs me.  If she's left alone with mom...there won't be anyone left to love her and care for her.  Mom would just treat her even worse if I wasn't around to protect her.  I-I need to protect Madi.  Please, God, I don't want to die.  I don't want to die. 

Xander's gaze shifted from the scissors that were in Makoto's hand to the eyes of the small girl, that were staring right in front of her, rather than directly at Xander.  It could have been because of the state Xander's mind was currently in but, to him, her eyes...didn't look normal.  They were...dark yellow eyes devoid of all emotion and soul...they were...the eyes of a demon.  The sight was enough to force Xander to begin crying...crying in the same way Makoto always would...the same way that Xander would always make fun of. 

Through his blubbering, the only words that Xander could muster was, "I'm sorry.  I'm sorry.  I'm sorry."

Xander's sight began to go completely dark and both his crying and apologizing stopped.  Before he knew it, Xander felt himself falling onto the floor of the hallway.  As soon as he landed on his butt, he, immediately, began taking some of the most frantic breaths of his entire life.  His vision, hearing and the rest of his basic physical functions all returned to him in a matter of seconds.  As he, groggily, stood up, the first thing that he heard with his regained hearing was weeping coming from below him.  He looked down and saw that Makoto was seated on the floor of the hallway, burying her face in her knees, crying, at what she had just done.

"W-Why do you hate me so much?" she asked, through the tears.  "I-I don't...understand.  I-I try...to...b-be nice to everyone.  I-I just want...people to like me.  I-I know I'm weird.  I h-hate it!  I wish I was n-normal.  I n-never asked to b-be like this!  I-I'm sorry if I do t-things to bother you.  I-I'm sorry that you h-had to s-sit by me.  I-I'm sorry for b-being alive.  I'm sorry f-for all of it."

Xander was speechless and every statement that Makoto said only cut him deeper and deeper. 

"I-I..."

Xander knew what he wanted to say...the same thing that he repeated when his life was nearly over but, now, he couldn't force himself to say it, seeing the state Makoto was in. 

I-I'm sorry, he finished inside of his head.  I-I did this to her.  It's my fault.  I shouldn't say sorry to her because...because I don't deserve forgiveness.  All of this...just to impress my stupid mother.  No, I'm the stupid one.  Stupid!  Stupid!  Stupid!  Why do I care what she thinks?  She's...she's mean...and awful to Madi and I.  I don't want someone like her...to be proud of me.  This whole time, I was mean to a girl that didn't deserve it.  Sure, she's weird but that doesn't give me the right to be awful to her.  I'm not going to mess with Makoto, again...no...I'm not going to say another word to her, again.  We'd both be better off if that was the case.

Xander knew that leaving Makoto in the hallway, alone, was a bad idea and that, either way, the two were going to get in trouble when one of their parents arrived.  He sighed, defeatedly, and slouched against one of the walls until he was on his bum as well.  Xander stared at Makoto, as she continued to cry, not bothering to comfort or make her feel better, since he believed it wasn't his place too.  Especially, because everything that had just transpired...was his fault and, this time, he didn't plan on denying this, no matter how much his mom would get mad at him for it.

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