Something smells fishy

Breaking dams

Morning wasn't kind to me either. I woke up from being cold. It yanked me out of my sleep and brought me back to reality. I was not home. I was not in my warm, sunny room. I was not about to go downstairs and have some of mom's blueberry waffles. I was alone. In Japan.

My left arm felt numb from sleeping in my jacket. I stood up carefully, and yanked the jacket off. Thousands of ants walked up and down my arm. I cringed at the feeling. It was Sunday. I got myself to the bathroom, and turned on the hot water. Hastily I pealed off the remaining of my clothes and positioned myself under the shower head. The water was too hot. It burned where it touched leaving red tranches down the length of my body. The mirror was all fogged up when I got out. The tiny white bathroom filled up with clouds of vapor. I ran my hand across the surface of the mirror. My face was blotchy.

"Great job, Amy! Absofuckinglutely great," I grunted.

Yesterday felt like a dream. A nightmare of sorts, one of those where you dream of yourself as the main character. The worst kind. There was so much I had to make sense of.

I wrapped a towel around my hair and got myself into a large T-shirt. The apartment was nippy. I turned on the AC and cranked it up to twenty eight degrees. I needed it to be warm and then I might fool myself into thinking this place was almost home.

I opened the fridge but there was nothing edible there, but eggs.

"Oh yes mom, I would love an omelet," I wimped , "no tomatoes, no cheese, no mushrooms, you know how much I hate vegetables don't you?!"

Big, fat tears rolled down my cheeks, as I got the forgotten two eggs and cracked them into the pan. The teapot whistled in the background and I got some tea from the cabinet to brew. I served my eggs sunny side up and made sure to draw some of the ketchup hearts my mom used to do for me.

"Breakfast is served, young lady. Bon appetite," I went on. I leisurely sat on the sofa and pulled the magazine table close enough to set my cup of tea and plate on.

There it was. I could see it in the corner. I dropped my fork and went over to the phone that was charging on the floor. It was off. I pressed hard onto the buttons. Some giggly tune and a dancing mushroom came onscreen. Impatiently, I turned away to find something to keep me busy for the next twenty seconds it usually took to reload. Nothing was good enough to distract me and I closed my eyes. I started counting back from twenty. Surely when I opened them, I would see something that would make me feel better. My mind buzzed with questions and thoughts on what is to come.

"Zero," I exclaimed and looked into the tiny phone screen. There was nothing. No missed calls, no messages. Nobody looked for me. I was sure Michiko had told Miyu and Shiro that I stopped by. They must have found it strange that I didn't meet them after all. Perhaps Michiko did not tell them. But why wouldn't she. It didn't make sense.

Annoyed with the situation and myself for being hopeful for something, I threw the phone onto the sofa, grabbed my plate and gobbled down the bland omelet. There was nothing good on TV, but I let it run in the background.

A knock on the door woke me up. I had fallen asleep again. My hair, dry by now, stuck to my face for it was terribly hot. As the knocking continued, I looked for the AC remote control.

"Yes, coming," I yelled.

I somehow turned the AC off and hotly opened the front door.

" Oh, it's you," I pushed back against the wall to make space for Shiro to come in.

He didn't. He continued standing in the doorway. In his usual way, he studied me. What he saw was no surprise to me. I was a mess, a hot, disheveled, sleepy mess. I didn't care.