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Sometimes Erina saw herself as nothing more than a piece of chewed gum discarded on the floor: detestable, gross, a thing to avoid. Parasitic. Clinging relentlessly to the feet of whoever was foolish enough to step too close. Rarely, she managed to make a good first impression but when she did it would inevitably end with her getting spat out and abandoned in some alley somewhere, becoming an object of shame, a sign of carelessness. To allow Erina in your company was never something seen as charitable or brave. It was stupid and brainless, much like the girl’s own anger.
Only the dumb and ignorant would allow the gang leader into their circles.
Erina was dwelling on this as she dragged herself up from the concrete floor, her bones ached, they were so very heavy beneath taut skin and bulging muscle. She had added another dozen bruises to her collection no doubt, her ribs groaning as she sat up. The patchy bleached hair had fallen further from its once tight pigtails. She didn’t bother retying them. It was getting late, if she stayed here much longer there was no doubt that Reimu would notice her absence and lock her window so she couldn’t get back in.
She did not plan on sleeping outside in the cold. Again. It always made her late to school the next day, because she had to fight to get her back from her room, and that always ended in an extra long detention and it was just annoying. Cold and wet and everyone seemed to notice.
It wasn’t snowing; the wind was still bitter, ripping through her skin, tearing her flesh apart to worm deep into her bones; like a disease that’d be latched onto her for hours to come. It wasn’t kind enough to numb her though, Erina was acutely aware of this as her bruised ribs protested against the brisk pace she had set. She ignored them, a dictator of her own body, forcing it out to fight despite its emaciation all to satisfy her seeping, bloated brain. Her brain was not something she viewed in any positive light. As far as Erina was concerned it was a mass of hate, cancerous and volatile leading to each and every problem in her life.
If she could just shut up and stay out of the way, Reimu's “sensitivities” wouldn’t lead him to getting emotional and hurling whatever was closest to him at her, and then, of course, sending his fists and feet as an encore. To top off the bloody performance, he’d have a drawn out speech to their mother, full of inaccuracies; Reimu was always an unreliable narrator. Yet, their mother ate up his fantasies like a starving animal, as though they lived in some wasteland and the best form of sustenance for decades was Erina’s suffering.
Though she shouldn’t be so bitter. Erina was much the same, afterall. She seemed to take just as much pleasure in seeing her skin discolour and bruise as they did. Constantly getting into fights she knew she couldn’t win.
Maybe her pain was just illusive to everyone, including herself.
Erina tugged her jacket closer to her hunched over form as she dragged herself along the bridge.
She could easily jump off.
No one would notice.
She paused, for once, for a moment, she stopped to think. She never does that. Always irrational, brainless actions born of anger and impulsivity. Brown eyes, just like her father’s apparently, she wouldn’t know, stared down at her bloodied knuckles. They were starting to scab over, blood clotting up. She brought blunt, bitten, nails to them to scrape it away once more, the skin never got a chance to heal there, from punching walls to people to dragging away the congealed blood whenever she could. She never let it heal.
Once they were steadily bleeding again she dropped them back to the railing, it wasn’t particularly high but Erina stopped growing before she properly started so it was around her flat chest. She gazed down at the road below her, it would be so easy.
Each car, van, lorry that sped past had a life, a family, a loved one. In one movement Erina could disrupt that peace for them, her blood seeping into their veins as stubborn guilt, never to wash away.
She could ruin their family, just like her family had ruined her.
Her hair had almost fallen out by now, her hair was never very firmly tied by this point in the week, the starts of deep tangles beginning to form. When her father had first left, leaving only his leather jacket - now mud and blood caked - that despite its smell, despite the way it swamped her emaciated body, she never took off. When he left and Reimu started getting violent and her mother stopped caring, she had allowed her hair to mat. No one there to stop her or tell her she needed to brush her thick brown hair. It wasn’t till she returned to school after summer break and the teasing started that she noticed.
She had never been easy to get along with, the matted hair somehow made it worse. When she had to brush it again it had hurt. She still didn’t brush it enough now. It was always matted these days.
Erina’s glare moved to the sky. Erina had no belief in any God. She had no belief in anything really, she never cared to listen in class, she just knew that she was here and she resented it.
Of course she didn’t go through with it, she never did.
She just continued on her way, pulling herself ever onwards. She still has no idea why, where nor what she was moving for, she just knew she kept moving.
Erina’s family lived on the first floor of a block of flats, this was a fact she was endlessly thankful for. She could easily get in and out through her window.
She had beaten Reimu this time, nothing had angered him to the state where he just had to barge into Erina’s room and screech at her like an animal ridden with rabies or an infant. He was meant to be 21.
That apparent age never showed in his behaviour.
Erina’s room had no decoration. It was boring and cramped in every sense of the world, the few things she cared about stayed firmly at Mutsuko’s. Where Reimu couldn’t rip, bloody and blacken and ruin the few things she cared for.
His hands had left their mark all across her room, the blood splatters on the floors and walls, the smashed window and dented walls. His anger marked everything. His words filled Erina’s brain like a mantra, like some twisted moral code preaching through her subconscious teaching her yet another way she could sabotage her own life. As though it wasn’t already pointless enough, as though she had anything to live for as it is.
She lay on her stained mattress, as dirty as herself, she didn’t bother to kick off her boots. She pulled her phone from her pocket, it had a new crack across the screen, she wasn’t surprised. She had been pretty outnumbered and certainly had sustained a kick to her side at least once.
Still, Erina turned it on and opened the group chat Mutsuko, Sou and her shared, the last message had been Mutsuko and Sou discussing the state of Youhei’s hair. A favourite topic of discussion for the group. It really was dead. And the amount of hair spray had to be a fire hazard, at this point.
Erina was always happy to have a chance to shit talk someone.
The calm began to become blissful as she slowly thawed, wrapped under the blankets Mutsuko had gotten her this Christmas. She let herself drop her guard and start reading through the fic Sou had sent her to beta read - it honestly perplexed her how such a snotty prick, as much as she called him that she did love him dearly, could write such filth and still maintain that superiority complex that far more than made up for his height.
The perfect angel boy who was always so much better than all those around him should not be able to write those things. Not when he acts as if someone was giving him the plague if they dared to touch one of his possessions.
She found herself half-happy that she hadn’t thrown herself into the motorway. It would’ve been nice to bring her pain to others one final, grandiose time but it was far better to make fun of Sou for sending her his yaoi-slop in the middle of the night.
Even through Reimu’s yelling and the groaning complaints of her stomach and her mother’s whiney lectures, she’d be okay. As long as she had Mutsuko and Sou she’d be okay.