“I’ve only ever felt beautiful one time in my life.” She ran her fingers through her long white hair “and that was the day” she paused for a moment, adverted those brilliant emerald eyes and stared off into the distance “I died.”

She continued to run her fingers through her hair and stare off “not the process. That, that was an ugly sight to see. Gore and blood decorated the station painting it in an ugly crimson. However,” That hard expression on her face began to shift “moments before then” a smile crept its way across her face “I was beautiful.”

“How come?”

“Someone saw me.” Stopping she finally gave me eye contact “truly saw me. Not for this exotic flesh, not as an object to be toyed with until broken. But, truly saw me. I’ll always remember those eyes. The way they looked at me, the way they held my gaze, those beautiful dark marbles which ensnared me. And the best part of this all.”

I nodded for her to continue.

“I get to see them every night.” She stopped for a moment unsure of why she said this but I knew.

(Rose)

Have you ever spoken with God? I think I might have and I can say, I wasn’t too impressed. Maybe, I am just bitter but you would be bitter too. I’ve lived this day over and over for the last few months of ‘real time.’ I’ve been experiencing the worst and best day of my life on a never-ending loop. And I believe this happened because of God. I said something she didn’t like, or maybe she did like and from that conversation we had, at the end of my life, she decided to do this to me. It’s the only logical reason.

“Wake up, Rose!” Her fist slammed against the door.

“I’m up,” I said softly.

The slamming stopped, I knew she was unsure of what to do. I was never up early, I never responded, and never sounded calm. This was my first attempt at changing up the timeline, here. Every other time I have attempted to change the story, nothing really changed. What I said was different and maybe that would get a different look or reaction but the same outcome always came to be. Attempt number one in the morning.

The floor squeaked as she shifted her weight around trying to asset what’s occurring.

“The doors open. You can come on in.”

Another squeak. “Wake up, Rose!” Her fist slammed into the door as if someone had pressed rewind.

“Wake up, Rose!” More pounding “you don’t want your father coming in there do you?”

“Go ahead.” Attempt number two “get him.”

Squeak.

“Wake up, Rose!” Another round of pounding “you don’t want your father coming in there do you? I mouthed the words as she spoke.

“Fuck him. And fuck you.” I said those words so calmly they even frightened me.

The door handle jiggled for a moment.

“Wake up, Rose!” The pounding was becoming annoying at this point “you don’t want your father coming in there do you?”

I stood up and walked over to the door jerking it open “I’m UP!” I screamed into the woman’s face.

Her dark brown eyes widened and anger radiated from her body as she lifted up her fist.

“Hit me.” I hissed “I dare you to. Act like a real mother for once.” I closed my eyes as she drew back her fist to toss the punch.

“Wake up, Rose!” My eyes shot open and I was back in my room “you don’t want your father coming in there do you?”

Astonished, I fell onto the bed with nothing left to say. I couldn’t change the morning; I couldn’t change what is said or done here. I listened to the repeated banging on the door, followed by the same exhale “that’s your ass he’s going to beat, not mine” the same words, and the same heavy stomps away. “Stupid girl, that’s why he beats you. I can’t believe he took in that whore’s spawn- “

Slamming my head into the pillow I screamed, I hated that woman more than I hated living this damn day over and over again. She hated me because I was her husband’s dirty sin she couldn’t scrub away. Pulling away I took a deep breath. And this was that bitch on a good day! I slowly rose up out of the bed and picked up the dirt covered backpack from my floor, dusted it off a bit and then swung it over my shoulder.

“You’re going to be late.” Shit. I forgot about him. Satoshi stood there leaning against his bedroom door watching me with those same eyes that bitch has “should just go ahead and quit school. Being a whore may not pay much in Japan compared to France but-“ he lifted a handful of yen “I’m willing to match them.”

I turned my head “fucking pervert. I’m still your half-sister.”

“I’ll take that as a maybe.” This is the part where he rubs himself through his boxers “I promise to treat you better than any other man ever could. And think about it. Maybe dad will finally love you because you’re fucking his real son.”

“You can’t change the morning, Rose. You can’t.” I repeated over and over to myself as I walked away from him “you don’t want to hear this shit again before you are forced to hear it again.”

Continuing walking I tried to drown out the lewd comments he continued to make to me as he touched himself. I hated him too. I hated them all however, I stopped feeling that cold stare upon me.

“I didn’t hear you say good morning to your Onii-chan, Rose.” His voice was cold and heartless. The sick thrill he got out of watching his son objectify me. “I think you should be nice to your Onii-chan, Rose.” A cold chill ran down my spine every time he said my name.

“I’m sorry,” I said bowing in the direction of the man sitting in the corner of the living room. I turned back to my brother and bowed to him “I’m sorry and good morning Onii-chan.” No matter how many times I’ve said that it still feels like venom in my mouth. “I’ll be leaving now.”

“Your mom told me you didn’t get up on time.” I tried not to look back in his direction. Could I skip this part?

“Your mom told me you didn’t get up on time.” I found myself facing his direction now.
 “What the fuck?” I thought “when did this happen?” I wasn’t looking in his direction seconds ago, I was staring at the wall. And with a single blink, I was now looking at him.

“Why were you not up on time?” He smacked his lips.

Satoshi clicked his teeth together.

This goddamn time-loop bullshit. I turned in the direction of the woman cooking in the kitchen and bowed “I’m sorry, Mother.”

“I’m not your damn mother.” She mumbled, “should have been aborted.”

“See, Miyuki. She’s sorry.”

“I see, dear.” I felt her eyes upon my head “how fun it must be to be young.”

“Shouldn’t you be leaving, Rose?” I hated this part “The only thing you have going for you is your exotic looks so maybe if you keep fucking your professors your dumb ass will actually graduate on time. Then out of my house and life, your ass goes.” He chuckled “to some whore house like that mother of yours.”

I clenched my fist. “Do you want to really hear this again?” I whispered trying to calm myself down.

“Leave before I beat you for ignoring your beautiful mothers' pleas to wake up you.”
 “A good beating is how this mongrel learns, dear. Spare the rod and spoil the child.” Miyuki was always happy to encourage my beatings.

“Forgive me.” I bowed my head again “I’m sorry, I’m truly sorry dear mother and father.”

“I’m feeling. Generous today and will spare you a sore ass.” I knew he was smiling behind that curtain of shadows “I feel like something great may happen today and I don’t want the daughter of a whore to ruin it.”

Yeah, it’s going to be a great day because I’m going to kill myself and be forced to live it again. I bowed once more to each one of them before taking off out the door. God, I hated those people! I hated my mother for dying and making me live with them! I hated my mother for allowing that man to father a child, to father me. Tears streamed down my face as I ran. It’s every time I reached this part in the morning, I knew that I truly want to kill myself.

The day went like a blur. I walked to school, avoiding the same speeding cars and careless bikers. Walked past the same sugary smelling café and felt the same craving for an Italian coffee with a splash of milk. It was like I put myself on auto-drive with no care in the world. I’d only ever tried to change things up at this part twice. Once, when I gave in to my craving and got the coffee. I got no reaction from the barista as I ordered, or as she took my money, or handed me my drink. But it didn’t rewind time or change any other action predetermined to happen. And the other time was when I decided to stand in the middle of the crosswalk despite the no-walk sign flashing. The cars didn’t move and the people around me just stared. Eventually, I walked to the other side and everything went into fast-forward as soon as I touched the other side. I had dubbed this the “Haste Effect” much like I had dubbed this morning’s rewind the “Transplace Effect.”

The Haste Effect happened when I did something that would have affected someone else, or what I believe would have if I had attempted that action. It causes everything to pause for a moment until I get back onto course before rushing forward to catch up. However, my time is not directly affected by this action. I’d done this a few times to come to this conclusion. And now I had the Transplace Effect. Based off of this morning’s actions, this is a constant rewind and repeat to those I’m conditioning a response from. Before that person can respond, the time-loop restarts to the beginning of the scene. I stopped for a moment and took in a deep breath “like a horrible movie, I’m forced to watch over and over again with a bratty kid who likes to rewind it to the good parts.”

Finally, I reached school and took another deep breath. “Hell, Part II.”

“Looking good Rose!” Here came the catcalling.

“Man, what I would give to take a dive into that ass.”
 I looked in the direction of the girls.

“I heard she sleeps with men for money.” Same old lies told to make themselves feel better.

“That’s not even her real hair, it’s a wig. No one has white hair, naturally. And I would know, my Mom’s a hairstylist.”

“I heard that her mother worked at a brothel in Paris and entertained Japanese businessmen.”

“Whatever makes you feel better about yourself.” I whispered to myself as I entered the building “it’s just one more reason that leads me up to that station.” Walking in I was greeted by the same sly smile of his, Ryutaro.

“Was wondering when you would get here, babe.” He flashed that same bright smile of his and pushed back his dyed blond hair “I need to ask you for something.” He put his arm around my shoulder “we’ve been dating, for how long?” He paused waiting for me to answer.

“Two months.” I sighed knocking his arm off so I could take off my shoes.

“Two wonderful months.”

Wonderful for you. I was just a money bank now that he realized I wasn’t an easy lay like he was lead to be. “Why did I keep him around knowing he’s such scum?” I thought “was I really that desperate to fit in?”

“I think I should get you something to celebrate!” I was already grabbing my wallet; I knew where this was going “could I borrow some money to get you something?” He grabbed the money before I finished pulling it out “great!” He leaned in and kissed me on the cheek “love ya, babe.”

“My ass.” Anger surged through me again as he ran off to join his friends.

That money wasn’t going to be spent on me, that money was going to be spent on the American hostess he always goes to visit. He honestly thinks I don’t know and that’s what’s sad about this bed. I knew. And I still went along, all to keep up face and stop some of the bullying that happened relentlessly thought these high school years.

“Now would you all turn to page fifteen in your books.” Mr. Shiki stood in front of the class wearing the same ill-fitted and wrinkled blue suit which made him look like a deflated balloon. “And we’ll begin discussing the next chapter.”

I opened my bookmark to the last page where I left off the other day. Eventually, I got sick of reading the same chapter over and over again so I decided to go ahead and start reading more in this textbook. I can now read a lot more English than I ever could, not that it was too different from French, to begin with and that’s my native tongue. But it’s not like reading or knowing English is going to help in these repeating days.

Now, I knew what was next. A balled up piece of paper came soaring through the air. Right on time. This time I moved back so the paper wouldn’t hit me in the head. “Misa.” Rolling my eyes, I picked up the paper ignoring the eruption of giggles around me. The same old story, same old ending, but this time I was going to change things up. I looked up at the glaring Misa “game on, bitch.”