Yumi Of Death

I woke up with more energy than usual. Maybe it was the excitement of seeing Yumi, or maybe it was because today I decided to stop being a slouch and actually care about my appearance for once. I mean, it's not like I have any real reason to look good, but... if I'm going to be late for a date with death (in the most literal sense, mind you), I might as well look presentable, right?

I threw on the best clothes I could find—okay, they're my brother's clothes—but I figured if I'm going to look handsome, why not go full-on expensive? I even shaved my chin, whatever that's called, and used his ridiculously fancy cologne. I didn't know it would make me smell like a rich man's leftover cash, but hey, it did the job.

I rushed outside and waited for Yumi. Ten minutes passed. Girls. Why does it take them so long? I tried calling her, but no one answered. Wait a minute, someone actually replied... but when I heard a voice, I thought it might've been Yumi's mom—nope, I was wrong. As I turned, the door creaked open slowly. And there it was.

A hand. A disgusting, flesh-like hands, *hands*—very long, twisted, and slick with some kind of black goo. Then, I saw its face. The mouth was... eating its own hair? One eyeball was hanging by a thread. I froze, staring. I tried to scream, but my throat was too dry. My legs, though, were ready to run. So I did.

"Help!" I tried to shout, but my voice was caught in my throat.

I bolted, heart pounding, desperate to get away. I wasn't even looking where I was going. In my panic, I knocked a girl over. She had purple eyes and white hair, and was holding an ice cream cone. I mumbled an apology and bought her another ice cream just to get out of there. She seemed confused, but I couldn't stick around to explain. I had to find Yumi.

I was still 30 minutes early for class when I finally made it to school. I rushed to my classroom. I opened the door. *Thank God*. There she was—Yumi, sitting in her usual spot, staring out the window. She looked sad. Not the usual aloof, mysterious sad—no, this was something deeper. Something darker. And it hit me.

*What if I'm the only one who can see it?*

What if I'm the only one who can see how twisted everything's gotten? What if this whole damn world is just a bad joke waiting to happen? I pushed the thought away. "Hi, Yumi," I said, trying to sound casual.

She didn't respond. She just... kept staring. Was she even listening?

The bell rang, and school officially started, but I couldn't stop thinking about what happened earlier. I handed Yumi the *Book of the Dead Log*, something I was working on for next week's list of deaths. As I handed it to her, I tried to lighten the mood. "Well, it's Friday. Calculus exam coming up, huh?"

She didn't even flinch at my attempt at humor.

And speaking of Calculus... I was about to make a fool of myself. I've never been good at math, and this test? This was going to be the end of me, my braincells will be fried to crisp. I glanced nervously at my desk. The teacher was too focused on grading some other papers to notice me sweating through my answers. As I struggled, I dropped my eraser. It rolled to the floor, and when I looked up, Yumi was still staring out the window. But now... she was crying.

No. I couldn't have. I blinked, trying to shake it off.

That's when I saw her. A figure. A girl. She was outside the classroom window falling. I could see her face—her eyes locked onto mine. It was like the world froze, and we stared at each other, *eye to eye*. She didn't look *alive*, but she wasn't *dead* either. She mouthed the words, "Help me," before I heard a loud crash—like something breaking. Everyone around me was confused. Why couldn't they see her?

Yumi stood up abruptly and rushed out of the room, but I was frozen. The teacher was still yelling at us to focus, even as ambulances and police sirens wailed in the distance.

The class continued. No one seemed to notice the chaos outside. The teacher just carried on as if nothing was happening. The sirens grew louder. The whole situation felt... wrong. Then, just when I thought it couldn't get worse, the teacher called our class president to look over as our teacherwent to check what happened. That was the perfect moment for me to bail.

I bolted out of the classroom, not because of the exam or the teacher's lecture. I was looking for Yumi.

As I exited, a gust of wind blew the sheet that covered a dead body. And there she was—*the girl*. She was lying there, her eyes wide open. She stared right into mine, and her death seemed to linger in the air. The world slowed down. I felt the tremble in my legs, my body going cold. The sound of her screaming, "Help me! Help me! He killed me!" echoed in my mind.

I could barely stay conscious then a police officer tapped my shoulder, bringing me back to reality. I looked back to see the body but it is already inside an ambulance, but my legs couldn't move. Not fast enough to stop the horror from consuming me.

And then, I saw her—Yumi—standing near the crime scene, holding a stuffed toy that was drenched in blood. The scene was grotesque. The blood. The human remains scattered about. Brain, guts, a mess of red that couldn't possibly be real. Yet, there Yumi stood, smiling as if she was at peace. I could barely breathe.

"She didn't jump," she said, her voice so calm, too calm. "She was killed."

I couldn't say anything. I couldn't even react properly. All I could think of was what she said next. "Wanna have fun?"

I didn't know what was worse—her blood-stained toy,the look in her eyes or when she said wanna have fun.