“Is this a dream?? It has to be a bad dream. It has to be that one dream again, right? The one where I pushed-“
Nozomi. Where’s Nozomi, is she okay? Are my friends okay, is my family okay?
The girl picks up her phone, only to realize a hand is missing. By the looks of it, her hand has been missing for a few months.
“What the..”
She looks at the nub, examining it. It’s a clean cut, and she can still feel it.. although a question is already on her mind. Who did this to her? Why?
She looks around the dreary brick room. It’s a small studio apartment, with worn wood floors, no microwave, and a dingy bathroom. Granted, though, her familiar honey soaps are somehow there, and there’s a faint trace of apple. Nozomi’s apple. Nozomi must have been over recently, at least in the past few weeks. Either that… or she hasn’t showered.
God, since when did she stop doing that? It hasn’t been that bad since her middle school years. She definitely wasn’t back in middle school- after all, this place seemed to be hers..
Her mind wanders back to the faint smell of apple, curious.
Is she here, too?
…it would be nice, if we were here together.