Chapter 23

This chapter is written by the REAL Riyo, not myself, Hishippo. I'll explain more later, of course.

Have you ever read about a person who experiences something as traumatic, such as death, who then falls asleep and wakes up to a few precious moments of oblivion before the truth returns to smack them upside the head? I didn't get any of that. From the very second I opened my eyes, I remembered what had happened. She was leaning against me, cold. Her body.

Her corpse... Her carcass... a voice in my head whispered. I told myself to shut up.

With a sigh, I leaned against my bed and looked at the ceiling. I mentally reviewed all the things that took place in the past few days. It calms me down and reminds me of the things I need to do.

Let's see... things to do... hide the fact that I took my parent's car, get Kowasu's blood out of my carpet... bury her body, and...

Dear God.

I've just realized that someone who gave a damn about me is lying dead on the middle of my bedroom floor. What the hell am I going to DO?

My room suddenly seems smaller and I can't get enough air.

"Holy shit... what am I going to do?"

After a few minutes of hyperventilating, there was a knock on my door, my quick gasps ceased. In fact, ALL breathing ceased.

"Riyo? Are you okay in there? Its time to get up."

Oh dear, a parental figure. This isn't good. I can explain away the candy stashes she finds in random places, such as the sock drawer, but the body of a friend that was supposed to be in the hospital would be a mite harder.

"I'll be out in a second!"

"Hurry, today's room inspection for your allowance."

Oh poo. Damn her anal retentiveness about neatness. My ass and I are toast.

"Okay, just have to uh, pick some stuff off the floor!" I called through the door.

"We need to do it now, you're dad and I are visiting the Lunds' and we'll be out very late." The doorknob twisted.

"No! I'll just skip out on allowance this week, my room's a real mess." I jumped up to halt her entrance.

"Well now..."

Too late.

"It's not so bad."


"A little dusty, the air's stale because you never open the windows, but not bad."

Now wait a second. Is it just me or is it weird that she's not mentioning THE BLOODY CORSPE IN THE MIDDLE OF MY ROOM? Not that I'm complaining of course, but still.

"Twenty dollars should be right," she said, handing me a bill. "You cleaned your bathroom and did the laundry also?"

"Uh... yes."

"Good. Well, we're off. See you tonight." She left.

They could have been accused of being inattentive, but this is kinda ridiculous.