Echoes of Solitude

Kagami was young, and she was tired. She tried her best and did almost as much as she felt possible. Still, her efforts weren’t enough to fix everything. 

Kagami awoke and slogged to move and get ready for the day, making mental note of each blemish she encountered littering her skin. She pulled on a baggy shirt and a pair of jeans from her closet, which greatly hid the body within them. Soon enough, she was on with her day. 

Later, Kagami trudged her feet along the school’s multicolored, speckled carpet, away from the direction of her fourth period. The red scribbles on the tear-stained paper in her white-knuckled fist affirmed her hatred for school. Suddenly, her large sweatshirt felt too tight in the wrong places, sending unnerve down her spine. 

“Kagami!” A voice behind called out as the anxious girl tugged at her loose clothing, the crumpled paper in hand. “I’ll walk with you to lunch!” Fala announced, nudging against Kagami to avoid others in the busy passing period. Fala noticed the annotated sheet in the other girl’s hand and pointed to it. “What did you get on it? I got a 92,” she expressed with a sigh. “Katrina got a 96. Lucky! It was pretty easy, yeah?” When Kagami’s eyebrows furrowed, and mouth stayed shut, Fala continued, “Dude, I heard some boy got a 68.” the taller girl claimed with a chuckle, slight confusion in her stare. “It can’t be that bad, right?”

“60,” Kagami mumbled with a downcast gaze, swinging her bag to the floor underneath her feet at the cafeteria table to shove in her ridiculed test. 

“Oh.” Fala released, standing in front of the other. “Well, it’s okay. There’s always the next test,” she said with pity. “I’m gonna get lunch. Are you coming?” Fala asked with a nod of her head. 

“No, I’m not hungry,” Kagami fibbed to her friend and to herself. 

On the bus, Kagami dropped her phone at a sudden red light, causing the device to slide closer to the front. At the next stop, she pushed her way forward to retrieve it. She cursed herself as she tripped and stumbled over the legs outstretched in the walkway. 

“Ow!” Someone with unfortunately lanky limbs yelped. 

“Sorry! My phone is under you. Can I just-” She moved while explaining, heating horrifically when thinking of the scene she had caused.

After awkwardly asking and reaching underneath for her phone, Kagami sped back to her seat, her face flushed. Her jeans now seemed to hug her thighs a little too much in a way that caused the embarrassed girl to squirm in her faux leather seat. At her stop, the girl rushed off, wary of any possible slight brush and stride on her way.

“Why are there still dishes in this sink?” Kagami’s mother questioned after her daughter barely made it through the door. “And look at these floors! It’s disgusting! Kagami, what have you been doing lately? Because it clearly hasn’t been what I’ve asked you to do!” she exclaimed. 

“I’m sorry, Mom.” Kagami apologized while pouring soap on a sponge. 

“I don’t need you to be sorry; I need you to be better for me,” her mother declared. 

“Oh,” Kagami responded in shock, eyes blinking straight ahead at the window above the sink. “Yes, ma’am.”

Kagami trudged to her room, exhausted and drained. Her nails picked at the skin along the side of her neck before tugging at the suffocating neckline of her sweater. She pushed inside to greet the other girl, who was almost a stranger but always relentlessly waiting inside. The two girls stood and stared at one another. One with eyes that scanned every detail, the other’s pair which steadily filled with leaking emotion. 

“Your eyes are looking a bit puffy,” she criticized Kagami with a strained smile. 

“Gee, thanks,” Kagami snided with a dry chuckle.

“You’re too weak, you know,” she pointed out to Kagami. “So sensitive to every little thing. I bet it is so embarrassing for you to have to be such an awkward little crybaby,” the stranger criticized. 

“I’m-” Kagami struggled to defend herself. “I’m not. Sometimes it’s just too much,” she argued. “It’s not like you do anything useful anyway,” Kagami rebutted, grasping for solid ground in this conversation.

“I help you, Kagami, don’t I? I’m addressing what you can change to be better,” the girl explained before her tone grew harsher, her strangled grin melting into a scowl. “You need this because you have so many damned faults; so much room to fill before you could ever be good enough.”

 Kagami shook her head. “No. You’re wrong.” she tried as tears finally began to spill, tickling her face on their way to the flooring beneath them. 

“If only I were. It would be so much easier for the both of us,” the woman refuted. “But instead, we got stuck with you and your fucking mess. I mean, look at you.” She motioned to Kagami, who stood directly before her. “Too grubby and unfitting for anything worthwhile.”

Kagami stood silent and unmoving, only fleeting her eyes over the other’s form. She only saw faults, for that’s all she ever looked for now. It was hard to discover anything left unchecked. 

“I know you think so too,” the lady taunted. “I can tell what you think, and it’s no different than what I’m telling you now.” She stepped towards Kagami, reaching and sliding a hand over her dampened cheek. 

Kagami stepped back once but instantly relented. She couldn’t win against the woman. The lady’s words hurt, but they were powerful and held true. Even if such honesty was like a knife sliding against her skin, Kagami refused to lie to herself. What everyone else truly thought was no matter at the moment the woman’s caress clenched into a grip of short, ridged nails over Kagami’s jaw. Kagami’s breathing was shallow, muscles tense and unmoving. 

“You’re a disgusting piece of garbage which no one could ever find desirable.”

Kagami’s breathing was paused in totality, for suddenly the task felt immensely difficult. Her lips rested chapped and agape, gaze faltering down as another tear joined the splotches on Kagami’s sweatshirt. 

The girl froze with her grip on Kagami slackening, both stuck in the moment which tore at their skin. “I didn’t mean that,” she attempted.

Kagami forced a slow, painful nod. “Yes, you did,” she admitted. 

Kagami stepped back and turned from the mirror. Her eyes remained on the floor as she trudged a few feet over to her bed before plunging in earbuds to block the girl’s words and curling into herself to hide from the world. 

Kagami’s marked papers lined her desk, her laundry lined her room, and her body held her bones captive. Kagami was young, and she was tired.