Alex Inoue

Dead End, Zo's Journey, and more stories


Posted by on November 15, 2020


…I see a form. With long black hair…is that my hair? I move but, my body is not as it should be. My arms make soft sounds as they lift up and move around…

I’m in a classroom. It is dark. There is no one around.

I feel my face. I feel like I’ve been crying…but there are no tears.

My face feels strange. It’s soft, maybe too soft.

And my hands. Oh, what is wrong with my hands? There are small folds where my fingers bend, but there are no other natural marks…no fingerprints or lines in my palms.

I am not normal.

I look around again.

There are several chairs of made of metal, and desks with wood tops held up by more bars of steel. The seats look cold. I’m sitting in a chair, too. But it is not cold…is it? I cannot judge warmth, but something tells me that the chair is cold.

The windows are to my left. There are many. Five large panes of glass, half covered by blinds. But even if they weren’t covered at all, there was hardly enough light from outside to see much better in the dark room.

Was it nearly night? Why am I in a classroom at dusk?

That’s right. I was studying. But even though there were children here to study with, they all knew I was weird. They did not like me at all.

Did I run out of tears? Had I been crying this whole time?

Could I even cry at all?

I look for a better view of the sunset sky.

There are white shining buildings blocking the ball of fire, but it had only just begun to pass the horizon if I could see it do so. Its rays peeked through the city’s tall buildings and gave me hints of the time. But, what season was it? What city was I in?

I’d never seen white buildings covered in glass before…

Where was everyone?

Not just the class, or the school I must have been inside. There was no one outside. There were no signs of life, save but a few bits of greenery growing outside of their designated spaces along the roads.

A closer look outside, after I found my feet to the edge of a window, I brought my suspicions to light…this beautiful metropolis was empty.

I saw a few cars litter the roads…the roads shone with the light of the setting sun which couldn’t be a mirage from this angle. It was almost as if they were made of glass, too. Just like the walls of many skyscrapers that filled my view.

Why did I feel like there were children making fun of me here?

There just couldn’t be anyone here, with how the streets were empty, and how there were no sounds of life to hear. A great sadness filled my heart.

Am I alone?

I walk up to the teacher’s desk. There is dust on it, just as much as there was on all the other desks. Even my desk, the one furthest in the back, was no different.

Had no one been here in a long time?

Why did no one want to be with me? Did everyone leave me here to collect dust, like the chairs and desks? Was it because I was different?

I find myself looking up at the ceiling.

There is a nice little metal hook, to hang up a solar system mobile or some other art a student might make. It was so beautiful to me.

How it seemed free of dust from here. How it seemed free of tarnish. It broke the monotonous white which surrounded it with its little bit of bronze.

I wanted to see it up close.

I pull up the desk to go right underneath it. I stand up on my toes, on top of the teacher’s desk, just to touch it.

It was so soft and smooth. How divine. The design of simplicity. It was firmly attached to the ceiling, but looked so innocent. It was just there to do its job.

I wondered why it was left alone, too.

There is nothing hanging from it. They must have taken away what it cherished most. Just like me. But we were each other’s company, now.

This hook, in a dark dusty school.

Alone in a sea of whiteness.

And me, in an empty city of glass…

Alone in a sea of chairs and desks.