It was 6:28. I was late.
I had just got done getting ready to leave, dressing up and looking in the mirror. I wore a white hoodie and jeans, my long, dark brown hair hanging past my eyes. I had a sharp jawline and my eyes and cheeks were partially sunken in. I was a skinny person, and honestly I was pretty frail.
I stared into my own blue eyes in the mirror. I could but think how dead they looked, like was a walking corpse. And then an interesting thought crossed my mind. Maybe all the Kokkaku were just walking corpses, victims to this world and it's cruelty, unable to end their own suffering.
According to the news and media, a Kokkaku can't die, they can't kill themselves, their wounds heal too fast. The only way to kill one would be to completely decimate their entire body, or if another Kokkaku killed one, since, for some reason, wounds on Kokkaku inflicted by their own kind took longer to heal.
But it stands the same. They can't kill themselves, they wouldn't be able to end all that suffering. In that moment, I pitied them.
At 6:30 I walked out the door. I didn't lock the door, I knew I wouldn't be coming back. If someone broke in, they wouldn't find anything of worth anyway. The DVD player might be worth a lot of money, it was ancient, from the olden days, but honestly it was hardly functional, so I didn't really care.
The only thing I cared about then and there, was meeting up with Yamari and telling her the things I've always wanted to say.
And then I'd kill myself.
I walked down the crooked steps to my front door and began my way towards central. The city began as a small town at the center, built around a large oak tree, but it gradually built outwards larger and larger. I lived near Tree Town, which was central, the original part of the city, but it had become no more than a place of rot and poverty now. The rich people all lived in the southern part of Myrd.
As I walked I took note of all the little things: cans of food on the ground, trash bins overflowing, shit on the ground, dirty blankets in alleyways, homeless people lurking around the shadows, all with that dark, dreary expression in their eyes.
The street was flowing with streams of murky water at its sides from the recent rain. Water flowed from pipes attached to the sides of buildings, and my feet were quickly soaked. But I really didn't care, I'd be drowning soon anyway. Hell, I already was.
All the houses were decrepit, either made of moss covered, cracked stone or rotting logs. The sidewalks and streets were riddled with cracks and signs of weathering, potholes all along the road, causing vehicles to bump and bounce as they went over them.
By the time I made it to Tree Town, it was 6:46, and, even though I was late, I still found Yamari sitting beneath the oak tree at the center of central, which was a large open area.
"There you are, birthday boy! What took so long?" Yamari asked, looking up at me.
I stopped a few yards away, staring at her. She was the most beautiful woman in the world. She was Hispanic, with soft, lush brown skin. She was short, less than five feet tall compared to my five foot ten. She was both beautiful and adorable at the same time, her long black hair flowing over her shoulders and her gentle, sweet eyes looking straight at me. She had a kind smile and a perfect figure.
I had been friends with her for five years, and it took me three to figure out I was in love with her, but I could never tell her that, because I knew she didn't feel the same. She never gave hints to that, but it was just a feeling a got. My intuition. I couldn't bring myself to tell her the truth, in fear of ruining my most treasured friendship.
But, now, I really had nothing to lose. I was going to die this day. So I was going to tell her, and when she said she didn't feel the same, I'd at least know for a fact how she felt before I died. And that was good enough for me.
"Are you okay?" She asked, cocking her head to the side.
"Yeah." I said with a smile, "I'm okay."
She was the last thing I had, the only person who made me happy. But, I knew she would be okay without me.
She wore a tank top and jeans that accentuated her figure, and she wore a luxurious gray coat over it. The clothes gave it all away. She was from a whole different world than me. Her family was wealthy and well off, and I was poor, alone, and doing nothing more than surviving even though I was already dead. She was popular, she had friends, she had family. I didn't. She was my only friend. And, I knew, in the end, all I'd do is hold her back, and she would figure that out one day soon, and she would leave.
That was why I had to end it all now. I had to tell her the truth, and I had to go. I looked down at my phone.
^6:58 PM^
I had a single hour with her. I would die at 8.