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Visions Of The Girl: Iwakura Lain
She walks to school alone. Her eyes, deep brown and somehow melancholy, follow her nebulous shadow on the sidewalk as it slithers beside her. She shifts her gaze to meet the sky, covering her face with a hand to ward off the sun's glare. The world is silent. The power lines above are humming, resonating an ominous hymn to the heavens. The girl pauses, then goes on her way.
She stares out the window of the subway -- the same view that she saw every morning, going to school. The cars pitch slightly with the rhythm of the wheels on the track. The passengers create a dull murmur in the air; but she looks through the window and watches the power lines flow seamlessly, in shallow inverted arcs. She senses the ever present hum of power and energy that courses within. Communication flowed through those lines. Life itself flowed through those lines.
She enters her classroom, eyes once again downcast and shoulders slumped slightly in passiveness. Voices behind her. Muffled sobbing catches her ear. A glance behind her finds a schoolmate crying -- with two girls hovering protectively over their crying friend. Her eyes look puzzled and devoid of expression at the same time. One of them looks up, and asks about a letter.
A letter..? No, it was an e-mail. She looked confused -- the crying girl... she was crying because of an e-mail someone had sent her. But why..? What..? An e-mail from.. a dead girl? A girl at their school had commited suicide, abandoned life of her own will -- and people were somehow still receiving e-mails from her. But she was dead. Dead people couldn't send e-mails. It was a prank, one of the girls say soothingly to the crying girl. The girl who was consoling the crying girl looked up and asked a question. Had she gotten an e-mail too?
A Navi... she had just ignored hers before. Turned the monitor away, and shunned the way of modern life. But now, it seemed to call to her. Had she gotten an e-mail too? Carefully, she clears off her belongings and turns the monitor towards her. Log on..? She hesitates, unsure. The screen blinks. The whispering hum of the active navi seem to fill the room with a pianissimo hymn, softer than those of the power lines. A message. User has mail...? The e-mail. But that girl... was dead! Her eyes widen in confusion as the message unfolds...
"I've only abandoned my flesh. I am still alive."
She stares at her screen, unblinking. Wasn't this girl... dead? But there it was. Little did she know that her life was going to change forever, because of this email...
(( back to internal diagnostic ))
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Marionette is © 2000-2007 Rose Panzo. SEL is © Yoshitoshi Abe, Chiaki J. Konaka, and its respective creators. Please do not reproduce the contents found here without permission.