Simi Sunny's Blog

Where am I, the boy thought after opening his eyes.

All around him, there was nothing but darkness. Black skies, gray clouds, and withered trees. There was nothing lively in this area, the boy could tell. And as he took each step, he could hear something crunch beneath his feet. One sickening crunch after another. The boy glanced down to see there were bones he stepped on, and, to his horror, there were more up ahead.

Were there many before him that have been in this area?

“Come, my child,” a deep but god-like voice carried through the air, making the boy halt in his tracks. He glanced around, locating where it was coming from. “Come into the light and see to your fate.”

The boy took a step back, his eyes roving more with a nervous movement. “I-I don’t understand. Who are you? Show yourself already!”

For a few seconds of silence, a light appeared in front of him. Emerged was giant cloaked in black rags that could reach the skies. Better yet, the giant could touch the gray clouds and grasp them with the palm of his hands. His back is hunched, but to the boy’s eyes, he looked superior. He didn’t think this colossal figure would emerge like that.

“Are you satisfied?” the giant exclaimed.

After a few seconds from composing himself, he asked again—-louder so he wouldn’t show fear. “Who are you?”

Even though the giant’s eyes have obscured from his hood, it wouldn’t hide the wicked smile blooming from his pale, cracked lips. “People have talked about me from time to time, even used me as some Halloween costume. But I am no joke, for I am the Grim Reaper.”

Part of him wanted to laugh it all out, thinking that it was a joke. But because this huge figure was towering over him, he couldn’t produce it. There was no way the boy would pinpoint that it’s a fake, what with the aura the Grim Reaper was giving off. So, with a shaky voice, he said, “You’re not lying, are you? How can you be the Grim Reaper?”

“I am real, boy,” he answered, not unkindly. “No one knows what a real Grim Reaper looks like, so they would perceive it in different ways. And no one knows what a real Grim Reaper looks like until they get to see me when they’re dead.”

“Is that so?” The boy chuckled half-heartedly. “Well, I guess I’m—-wait, what?”

“It’s sudden, but yes, you are dead.”

The Grim Reaper’s words left him breathless as if he punched him in the stomach. Dead? The boy was not dead. He was healthy and cautious. How on earth was this boy dead all of a sudden? “There has to be a mistake,” he replied.

The tall figure shook his head.

This has to be a dream, the boy thought. By now, he should wake up. He needed to find a way out somehow.

The Grim Reaper sighed. “It is hard to believe, I know.” When the boy flinched by his response, he continued. “Many mortals that I’ve come across would not believe when I tell them that they’re dead. I’ve seen it all, boy. You must accept your fate and that it is time for you to move on from the living.”

It couldn’t be true, though. But the boy's heart panged at the sight of the light behind the Grim Reaper, beckoning him. The boy couldn’t leave, not when his loved ones are worried about his sake. He never managed to say a proper goodbye. No, it shouldn’t be a goodbye. The boy needed to escape. Narrowing his eyes, he said in a stern tone. “You won’t take me, no matter what you do! I will never go into the light!”

He took a head start by sprinting as fast as he could. What the boy needed to do was find a different path to escape this place. There was no doubt that there should be a way out of this depressing world. All he had to do was keep running.

And running.

And running.

But the boy looked back and saw The Grim Reaper was nowhere to be found. Maybe he outran death. He could finally do that! That way, he could tell his loved ones that he escaped death’s hands.

But the victory didn’t last long when he bumped into a wall—-no, the figure cloaked in dark rags. The victory the boy once contained vanished at the sight of the Grim Reaper towering over him once more. And because of that, he couldn’t get up from his fall. Damn the Grim Reaper. Damn this world. Damn him for trying to escape. Now the boy will be humiliated and be tortured by the giant’s hands, and he was not ready for that.

For a few seconds, the Grim Reaper extended his hand toward the boy and hesitated. The boy turned his head to the side, giving it a questioning look. “I’m sorry, boy,” the hooded figure exclaimed. “but you must accept reality. You must accept your fate.”

The boy shook his head. “But I can’t. This is not how it’s supposed to be. I should’ve escaped death.”

“Death is inevitable, boy, whether you like it or not. You must face it like a man.”

The truth hit him once more, and it was more painful than the last. “But I’m afraid to cross this light. What if I’ll never be able to be with my loved ones on the other side? What if I won't go to Heaven? What if—-”

The Grim Reaper stopped him by raising his hand. “The light won’t take you to Hell, but it won’t take you to Heaven either. It will decide your fate, not I. I'm only here to guide you. As for your loved ones, you cannot worry. All you could do is be brave and face what will yet to come.”

Taking a deep breath, the boy—-no, the man—-took the figure’s hand and lifted himself from the ground before shifting his eyes toward the light. Once more, it beckoned him to come, and, this time, he’s going for it. And as the man walked towards it, he felt the light’s aura.

Death embraced and welcomed him with its warmth, and the man took it without fear.

Once was a peasant
Who lived in bane
Until he caught sight
Of a lovely Beauty
he wanted to Attain.

He challenged the king
To preside in the throne.
The cocky king agreed
Thinking he’s undefeated
Until his head was blown.

People cheered in delight
For the new ruler
Who made empty promises,
Which no one suspects
His heart more crueler.

Nothing satisfied the leader
For his heart was yearning.
So he made a decision
To claim every beauty
Despite his first earning.

From here and there
He gathered every lovely
And made them his own,
Except for one far away,
Making his heart bubbly.

Challenging the other
For the last time,
The King wanted the throne
As his own to rule,
Which the other declined.

The king had no choice
But to siege the land
And issue anything.
But the other ignored
Every king’s demand.

Because his plans thwarted,
The king became impatient
And killed the other,
For his heart grew
in greedy and anticipation.

But instead of cheers,
The victory became hollow
Because his beauty desolated
To ashes and ruins,
Giving the king sorrow.

How would I feel
To not experience love
That can soon take away,
Leaving me in despair.

How would I feel
To not endure anxiety
That'll keep me up at night,
Leaving me restless.

How would I feel
To not sense a single prick
That'll give me a sharp pain,
Leaving me to bleed.

How would I feel
To not undergo verbal abuse
Spewed from people's mouths,
Leaving me in pain.

How would I feel
To not think about self-esteem
When people crush it brainlessly,
Leaving me loveless.

Would anyone care
If I feel nothing
So that they won't see
The hurt in my eyes?

Or would anyone care
If I feel nothing
So they can live their lives,
Without worrying about me?

“It looks complete,” the artist mumbled under his breath, scrutinizing the painting. “But why does it feel like it’s missing something?”

The artist leaned close, eyeing on the painting he finished. Black silhouettes of the grass and trees covered the bottom of the landscape, while the red and orange-ish sky covered the rest of it. He felt like he needed something to tie everything—creating a captivating artwork people would admire. But what?

A knock on the door startled the artist’s thoughts. Perfect timing, the artist thought as he wiped his hands with a rag. When he opened the door, his friend greeted him with a smile. “Ah, the artist at work. I’m so glad to see you. Is this a bad time?”

“Not at all, my chap,” he beamed and embraced his friend in a tight hug. “In fact, I’m so glad you came. Please, come in, and do close the door.”

Once the door's closed, his friend shed his muddy-brown suit jacket. “I know. The weather is getting chilly now that summer is over.”

“Indeed. Please, have a seat.” When his friend took a seat on the couch, the artist asked, “What brings you here?”

“Don’t you know?” He frowned. “It’s been so long since I last saw you. I thought you realized that and would be happy to see me again, now that all of our friends are gone. It’s just you and me, pal.”

Yes, only the artist and his friend were the only people that remained alive. He didn’t realize that until his friend mentioned it. How awful that he didn’t get to spend much time with them again when he last saw them. So with the pat on the shoulder, the artist exclaimed, “Of course I’m happy to see you again.” He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess I was pretty occupied with my life’s work, as you can see.”

His friend scanned around the room, noticing the artist’s drawings and paintings hanging every inch of the wall. Indeed, his friend was convinced the artist worked on every one of them ever since he rose to fame. “I say, that’s pretty impressive of you, considering how hard you’ve been working on your life’s work. And ever since you became well-known, you’ve been so busy. What is your secret?”

“If I tell you, would it not be a secret?”

The two men laughed for a few seconds until his friend spotted the one painting on the easel and stood up from his seat to take a look at it. “A fine work of art, my friend. Very well done.”

“You think so?” The artist said as he came in from behind.

“Oh, yes. Though I do believe it’s missing something in the painting.”

“You don’t say?”

His friend nodded but quickly added, “But don’t get me wrong. I just think it needs something to make it a full masterpiece.”

The artist chuckled in delight and shoved his hand in his pocket. “You know, old chap? I was thinking the same thing as well. And now that you mentioned it, I finally found what I was missing.”

“You do?” His friend stared at him in bewilderment.

“That’s right, and it’s you that I’m missing.”

Quickly, the artist pulled out his blade and plunged it into his friend’s chest, not leaving him time to react. Crimson blood squirted onto the canvas when the knife dug deep, making a semi-squishy and crunchy sound. And when the artist pulled the knife out, the lifeless body before him crumpled onto the floor.

He took a glance at the blood dripping down at the center of the canvas, which caused the artist’s lips to spread into a satisfied smirk. “Now, it’s officially a masterpiece.”


Hey, everyone! I've been inactive lately, what with work and all. I thought why not I share one of my works. I was hoping maybe I can post flash fiction or short stories when I get a chance. I'll keep you posted on what's going on. Int he meantime, stay safe and have a great day!

Hey, everyone! It's been so long since I have written a blog post, but I have decided now is the perfect timing to write one. You will see in a few seconds or so. But I do hope you all had a wonderful holiday.

I cannot believe the new year is coming so soon, and it's coming by fast. It can be exciting yet nerve-wracking. Hopefully, it will turn out okay, but you mustn't forget about the positive stuff from 2019. For instance, I was happy that I finally published the first book of Souls of Elkwood County, and I've been getting pretty good feedback. I hope to publish my second book soon because, as of right now, I'm working on that. I hope you will stay tuned for that. You can still check out The Weight of Our Souls on Amazon if you guys are interested.

Another good thing that happened to me is that I've been successful at script-writing. Ever since I started doing scripts for my sister's channel, I was feeling skeptical. But now, I've enjoyed it because so many ideas are flowing inside my head, and I want to pour out every feeling out. I've heard so much feedback whenever a video is uploaded, and that made my heart pound happily, which I'm thrilled and emotional at this point.

I will make sure to create as much as I can for guys, whether through writing books or script-writing. All you guys have to do is be patient with me. I want to let you guys know that I might be busy in the near future because of a new job I'm starting soon. I'm thrilled to have an opportunity in my hands but, at the same time, I'm nervous because I don't know how it's going to turn out. So wish me luck because I'm going to need a lot of it. Lately, I've been having so much bad luck, so you have no idea how much I'm struggling inside.

So I'm not sure how my new schedule is going to work out, but I'm going to do my best to find the time to write. However, it might not be easy when it comes to script-writing because who knows if I'll be burnt out of ideas or something. So my sister and I decided that if I'm unable to write scripts all the time, we can have scriptwriters to write for us. Meaning, we want to help them out by putting them out there unless you understand ASMR script writing.

If you haven't noticed, I post a lot of ASMR videos through my profile. So if you want to check them out, go ahead. If you're familiar with ASMR role plays, great! If not, I would suggest you check them out whether through my sister's channel or any other channels that do ASMR roleplays. I cannot explain how it works, but the best video on how to write them is from Cardlinaudio (his ASMR videos are amazing). I will give you guys the link if you want to learn how to write ASMR scripts. Overall, you're writing a story, but quite different. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iPDah...

So if you do want to write a script, there are requirements:
1. No mature content
2. No violence
3. No NSFW
4. Make sure it is either PG or PG-13
5. If you want sound effects in the video, please let me know in the script, so I am aware of that.
6. If the script does not meet the requirements, then we cannot accept the script.

And one last thing, please look over grammar or spelling issues before sending over the script. You can edit and polish your work as many times as you like, so long it's something that we can understand. So many times, my sister and I look over each script, and we see that it's not edited correctly. There were even cases where I have a hard time understanding or the fact that I see how repetitive it is. So keep that as a consideration or, otherwise, we will not accept the script.

Here is the email where you can submit your script: kasumigames691@gmail.com. But overall, if you are a writer and you love writing scripts, we're giving you a chance. But if you're not a writer, you can contribute somehow by giving us suggestions on what you want to see in an ASMR video. So long as it sticks to the guidelines, we will consider it.

So that's it for me. I hope you all will have a lovely new year and that you guys will take care! I will do my best to keep you guys posted, along with creating such content for all of you. Have a great day!

My father,
Humorous and loving,
Tends to blame the victim
When he knows it’s his faults
But he doesn’t like to admit them.
Though,
He tends to
Make things better
By talking things out
Until peace is restored.
That is my father
Who is also like me.

My mother,
Sensitive and nurturing,
Tends to worry all the time—-
Even little things in the world
When she knows it’s not healthy.
Though,
She manages
To be strong for people
Who love and need her most,
Despite how she struggles so much.
That is my mother
Who is also like me.

My sister,
Creative and strong,
Tends to be hard on herself
While being scared of the world
Despite how powerful she appears.
Though,
She’s quick,
When it comes to tasks
While making things perfect
For which she desires the most.
That is my sister
Who is also like me.

For years,
I know who I am
From watching my family
And learned how to connect,
Despite how I hate the flaws in me.
Though,
My family
Do not dictate me
Because I make it my own
While I keep exploring myself.
This is who I am—-
Where I come from.

I hope you enjoy the poem I have written for you. At first, I was never, but then I decided that I should since I'm long overdue with my blog post. Stay up-to-date for any story, poem, or updates that I have in store for you. Until then, take care and have a great day!

Hey, everyone! Long-time, no post! Things have been crazy for me, but at least I managed to get on and write something for you all! And of course, I have been busy fixing up my manuscript before publishing it!

If you have missed the cover reveal, please don't worry about it! You can still see it from here, Twitter, or on Instagram (sorry if the quality is not good). Feel free if you want to comment on your thoughts on the book cover.



My guess on the release of the book might be later this month. I'm not sure exactly, but I will let you know when it'll be published or not. So please stay tuned for that, and thank you for your patience. It's hard when you juggle both work and writing life. In the meantime, you can check out the synopsis that I will post down below, and I will provide links from the last author interview I had (I talk about my writing and the book I was working on) and the preview of the book. Until then, take care and have a great week, guys!

Synopsis: Everything seems mundane to Gwendolyn Hill, considering her job and social status. Yep, nothing’s better than being a funeral director at the Hill Manor, while socializing with her grandmother, her pet cat, and—-wait for it—-her ghost friend. That’s right. Gwen can not only see ghosts, but she can also guide them to where they need to go. And to lead the spirits on the right path is to weigh them with a scale and a feather.

Meanwhile, a spirit is sending visions to Gwen, but she doesn’t know why. All she can figure out that it may be a threat, but to who?

For people who love The Ghost Whisperer TV series and/or Balckwell game series ,The Weight of Our Souls tells a story of one woman who will help every soul, and she will know that she won’t always rely on just a scale and a feather.

Author Interview: https://estherrabbit.com/simi-sunny-i...

Preview of The Weight of Our Souls: https://www.goodreads.com/author_blog...

Hey, everyone! Hope you have plans for the summer! I know I do, and I have some things in store for you. This update will not take too long. I promise.

For starters, I need to talk about how I'm progressing on my Work in Progress (WIP). A month ago, I finished writing up my novel, The Weight of Our Souls. And just now, I finished the first round of editing. However, I'm not sure how long will I get this published, so I'm afraid you guys will have to wait until I'm both done and be financially stable. In the meantime, you can always support on other works I have done, and it doesn't have to be just the books I have written (though, it would be nice. Reviews are also welcomed).

Next thing in the agenda, you might have noticed I have been posting videos on my Goodreads account. If anyone is not aware or is new here, don't worry. I'm always happy to explain. Recently, I've been working with my sister on script writing for ASMR videos. If anyone is also not aware of what it is, I will gladly explain as well.

Autonomous sensory meridian response (ASMR) is a tingly feeling you get and satisfies you through a gentle touch, sound, etc. For example, someone whispering to you or playing with goo can give you a gentle feeling (yes, I said goo).

So you can feel free to check out the videos through Goodreads, or simply check out my sister's channel, which I will have the link right here. And it's not just ASMR videos I will help out with, but I will also do some voice acting there. My sister uploads her videos once a week, so do check them out. https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCPPL...

Oh, and if you would like to have a personal ASMR experience, my sister and I can do that for you with Ko-Fi; it is a website, where you can show your support for your favorite creators, and it's very cheap if want something done. You can request what you want from artwork to writing for just $3. If anyone wants to have one, I'm going to put a link of the page here. https://ko-fi.com/kasumiva

Lastly, I will being going away in two days, and will not be back until two weeks. I'm not sure if I will be active, but I'll see what I can do since I found out that there is internet connection from the place I'm staying (we won't know for sure yet). But in the meantime, you guys will have to wait to hear from me until I get back. And even if I have access to internet, I will be busy doing a lot of sight seeing, shopping, and visiting relatives.

Until then, take care, guys! Here's to having a happy and safe vacation!

The village was lovely during the night, where civilians were strolling through the streets. Lamp lights in different colors were strewn on every building, creating a playful but serene area. Children filled the atmosphere with laughter, as they ran while carrying either paper koi fish that shimmered in the moonlight or handcrafted dolls that fitted their likeness. And what made the town filled with delight were the aroma of cooked fish and meat being served to civilians from vendor to vendor.

That’s what Mao saw through her bedroom window.

“Mao,” she heard her aunt beckon lightly. “Come over here. I haven’t finished with your hair yet.”

“Coming, Obasan.”

Mao sat before her aunt, her lips rolled, antsy about the spectacle occurring outside. "Hold still Mao,” her aunt grunted as she lightly grasped Mao's shoulder. “Don’t you want to look perfect for tonight’s festivities?”

“Sorry, Obasan.” The ten-year-old girl might’ve hold still, but her spirits were high since the village was holding this year’s festival. When the new year comes, the town holds a festival that celebrates everything. It acknowledges the life the gods and goddesses have provided.

“I know you’re very excited,” her aunt said. “but be patient. We have all night, sweetie.”

“I know.”

Mao’s aunt wasn’t worried about getting ready, because she was dressed in a midnight blue kimono with beige stars, depicting the starry night. Her black hair tied in a side ponytail with the help of a royal red rose as the finishing touch to her style.

After what it feels like an eternity for Mao, she felt her aunt stand up and walked in front of her to get a better look. “You can get up now.” Mao’s aunt pressed her hands together, smiling down at the girl. “Look at you. Come see what you look like in the mirror.”

And thus, Mao glanced at the mirror; her black hair was secured in a bun, thanks to a clip that contained a pink, bejeweled flower. Her smile brightened at her pink and green Kimono with red printed flowers and a cherry red belt.

“I always loved that outfit,” her aunt confessed. “Reminds me of how your mother would wear when we were young.”

Mao turned around to face her. “You mean… this was her old outfit?”

“Indeed. Your mother wore it whenever the festival comes every year. Your grandmother would let her keep it until the time comes and, now, it has.”

“I wonder what my mother was like,” Mao said, glancing down with a tinge of sadness growing within her. “I wish I had the chance to meet her.”

A sad smile crept over her aunt’s lips, but her tone remained cheerful. “She was always cheerful and beautiful, just like you.”

“But you’re pretty, too, Obasan,” Mao admitted.

“Maybe, but she has natural beauty.” Kneeling before her, Mao’s aunt rubbed her nose with hers. “And like you, your mother had very high spirits and loved the festival whenever it comes.” Her aunt straightened herself and grabbed Mao’s hand, nodding to the window. “Now, let’s get going when the night is still here. We cannot miss it.”

The two of them slipped on their wooden getas that were sitting by the doorway and darted off, where everyone was still visiting each stand—-from games to food vendors. Mao could not wait to visit them all. As Mao and her aunt passed through every one of them, a familiar voice hollered, “Mao and Hiromi-chan!”

Mao was scanning the area until she caught her eye on the elderly man, who’s carving up what appeared to be a wooden doll. The girl beamed at the sight while recognizing the man with a few teeth. “Ojisan!”

Pulling away from her aunt’s grip, Mao ran up to his stand and bounced on her heels. “Happy New Year’s Eve, Ojisan.”

“And a Happy New Year’s Eve to you, too, Mao-chan.” He nodded his head toward her aunt. “And the lovely Hiromi-chan, Happy New Year’s Eve. How are you two doing?”

“As wonderful as always, Mr. Otana,” Aunt Hiromi replied. “What about you?”

“Very busy, what with the festivities kicking in. Though, I’m grateful to see you both here.”

Mao enjoyed visiting Mr. Otana and his shop; she would help him with simple chores like cleaning up the shop. Sometimes, Moa would stick around and see him carve great wooden crafts. And a few times, Mr. Otana would let Mao keep his creations.

“I bet you have many customers this time around.” Mao beamed.

“Maybe. I would not get many people every month, except this month.” He shrugged and smiled. “But I’m not bothered since I always see your happy face, Mao. Speaking of which, I have a surprise. It should not take long.”
And Mr. Otana was right; it didn’t take long when he pulled out a wooden carving of Mao for her to have at the festival. Usually, kids would make themselves at home or at a craft station in town. Though, Aunt Hiromi wasn’t able to afford any scraps to help Mao make a doll. The crafted doll’s hair was painted black, but the blue cloth fashioned into a kimono. “Cool!”

“It’s wonderful, Mr. Otana,” Aunt Hiromi exclaimed. “but you didn’t have to do all of this.”

“I wanted to for my favorite helper.” He handed the doll to Mao which she carefully took it. “And for you, you won’t have to pay me anything. It’s on me.”

Mao bowed. “Thank you, Ojisan.”

“You’re welcome, Mao-chan. Best be going, though. I hear they’re starting story-time for the children if you don’t want to miss it.”

Both the two women and Mr. Otana exchanged their farewells, as Aunt Hiromi lead Mao to where the children were starting to gather up at the side of the shrine. Sitting on the grey, cobble-stoned bench was an elderly woman wearing a green kimono, and her black and grey hair tied in a constricted bun. Mao wasn’t sure if the wooden staff was part of a prop or not, but she knew it looked intricate, what with the top part carved into a quarter moon. “Gather around, children,” her voice boomed. “for it is time for the telling of the tale on a New Year’s Eve night.”

Mao sat among the children before looking up at her aunt, feeling worried.

“Don’t worry, honey,” Aunt Hiromi assured. “I’m right behind you.”

That made her worries ebb away, knowing her aunt would be here even when storytime begins.

“Quiet now, children,” the elderly woman began. “I will tell you the tale that happened a hundred years ago when this village was still standing.” She paused as she takes in the children’s awe before she can continue. “It’s a tale about how a dark kami came to our village.”

The children’s fascination turned into gasps, but Mao’s excitement did not falter when the elderly woman announced what the tale was going to be.

“Many years ago, the trees were lavished with many flowers, including the cherry blossoms like this.” The storyteller nodded her head at the giant, withered tree she was standing next to before rubbing the bark of it. “It was all thanks to the goddess of our village. Did you know, children, that this village was once beautiful?”

A couple of kids were whispering to each other, while the rest, including Mao, were awe-struck at the thought of the village was beautiful before. Mao didn’t care about the outer appearance but, instead, the inner self of the town. Though, she has not seen a flower or an orchid tree bloom as far as she could remember. If only she could see it with her eyes for the first time, so she could know what it’s like to see any flower bloom.

“Our village has thrived for so long because of our kami until that fateful day,” she said, indicating that this was the day something had changed the village. The storyteller shook her head in disbelief before she continued. “The flowers and the orchids have shriveled, reducing it to weeds and branches. Dark clouds blocked out the light blue sky, no inch of sunlight could peek through. It was only when a new kami emerged, wearing a black cloak from head to toe. Her name was Akane-Chizue.

“We did not know what happened to our Kami that has helped the village for so long. So it was I, who had to step up to the shadowed spirit to seek answers. But it was a big mistake.” Pulling the sleeve of her kimono, she revealed claw marks on her right wrist, bruised and scarred. The children let out another gasp. Even one child was running toward his mom that she had to comfort her child. “The spirit grabbed hold of me and hissed, ‘your kami is gone.’ I managed to let go, but Akane has left a mark on it.

“But we made sure we were protected. Oh yes, we did. Towards the end of the year, we give offerings to the gods and goddesses to protect our village from the evil spirit. But…” The elderly woman waggled her index finger in the air, her voice becoming stern. “Not give offerings to the gods for protection, and your skin is sealed with a mark.”

“That must be scary,” the girl next to her whispered to her friend, despite that Mao could hear her.

One waved his hand, which the storyteller nodded her head for him to let him speak. “Were you scared of Akane-Chizue?”

“At first, yes, but not anymore. Thanks to the gods and goddesses, we are protected. Though, we still need to keep praying for protection. I recommend all of you to do the same thing.”

Another child raised her hand, and the storyteller made the same gesture as before. “How did you know to ward off the kami?”

“Good question, dearie.” The elderly lady smiled. “While all the village folk like me were panicking at the time, a couple of priests jumped in and did a few prayers to the other kamis to aid us, until the evil deity dissipated. So every year—-every festival we have—-it’s always best to pray for the gods and goddesses because today would be the day Akane-Chizue would lurk and terrorize people.”

Every child sighed in relief at the idea of praying for protection, including Mao. Though, it didn’t settle the fact that there was more to the disappearance of the village’s kami.

After a couple of questions later, the elderly dismissed the children, which they happily decided to either went back to their parents or hang out with their friends on what else they could see. Mao was ready to reunite with her aunt until something caught her attention from the corner of her eye. She recognized two boys and one girl who were huddling over by a house. Mao would see her classmates, Eiko, Daichi, and Anzu, hanging out sometimes, getting into some mischief with the teachers. Though, Mao would admire the group of friends, noticing that they would look out for each other. She didn’t have any, what with the friends she made in the past would keep moving away and how busy she was with schoolwork and chores.

Today, Mao was going to meet them for the first time.

As Mao approached the group, the whispers died now that the attention was on her. “H-hi,” she said while waving. “What are you guys talking about?”

It felt silly for Mao to be shy in front of the group, but they didn’t appear to notice. “We’re talking about the spirit that keeps haunting our village,” Daichi exclaimed. “We think it’s bogus how the spirit keeps coming to haunt us when all the village people can do is pray and give offerings for protection.”

“Yeah, bogus,” Eiko agreed while nodding his head.

“So what’s the plan?” Mao asked.

The group turned to each other before Daichi’s lips curved into a smirk, which the rest of the group have matching expressions. “Let’s say we’re going to take action if you’re up for it.”

Mao was taken aback by the proposition the group laid out for her. It was odd that they would let her join in the fun, even though she intended to make small talk with the group. “Me? Tagging along with you guys?”

“Why not?” Anzu shrugged as she patted Mao on the back of her shoulder. “It’ll be fun. We’ll get to meet the kami that’s responsible for our village’s dismay.”

“But how are you going to do that?”

“Legend has it that Akane-Chizue resides in the forest that is not too far from here.” Daichi pointed to where the withered, leafless trees were.“ No one has dared to go there, but it’s going to change.”

“Yeah, change!” Eiko chimed in.

“So…” Anzu extended her hand toward Mao, grinning as the rest of the trio watched to see Mao’s verdict. “Will you join us?”

At first, Mao was hesitant about this, going to a forest where this “supposed” spirit was living. Though the trio wanted to look for answers about the previous kami that helped this village, and she was seeking the same purpose as well. Taking a deep breath, Mao managed to grin and took Anzu's hand to shake it. “I’m in, but I need to talk to my aunt to—-”

“No time,” Daichi interjected. “We have to get going before the dark spirit can haunt the village.”

Anzu grabbed Mao by the hand she shook and was dragged off, following the trio. There’s no way of changing her mind now. And Daichi was right when both Mao and the rest of the group tread through the old, dry field to be standing in front of the forest. Like the peach tree, those in the woods have not been taken care of for a while, yet the trees remained standing. However, there was no sign of Akane-Chizue which was a relief for now.

Eiko tugged at Daichi’s shirt sleeve, which Mao presumed he was the leader of the group, and said, “You sure Akane-Chizue lives here?”

“Of course, dummy. There is a reason why it’s called a ‘legend.’”

Mao pressed her lips into a thin line, doing her best not to correct him.

“What are we going to do?” Anzu asked, a hint of anxiety in her tone.

Daichi nodded his head toward the dead vegetation. “We’re going in there and get that spirit.”

There was no hesitation among the group, except for Mao; they were going on ahead with the plan. The young girl was unsure of it, but then again, she didn’t want to be left alone at night. So Mao decided to quicken her pace and join the group of misfits. There were so many dead branches and leaves, scattered on the ground that she had to be careful where she steps on. Even if there’s light escaping from the full moon, it was not enough to brighten the forest. Mao wondered if this would take long since she didn’t have time to tell her aunt before Anzu dragged her.

Mao and her friends were far from the entrance when they halted on their tracks. “Alright, I think this is it,” Daichi announced. “All we have to do is lure her, bother her as much as we can so that Akane can tell us.”

“You sure this will be a—-”

“Of course it is,” he snapped, cutting Eiko short from his sentence like a dagger. Mao felt awful for Eiko being the fool in the group. Even Mao was uncertain of their plan to demand answers from the dark kami. How foolish she was to forget to say some prayers or use purification water to protect her whenever she’s about to enter the temple.

If only either of these options would help them now.

Daichi began to pick up a stick and threw across from him as he hollered, “Hey, you stupid creature! Come out and talk to us.”
The rest of the group followed suit, but Mao stayed still. She decided it would be best to wait and watch. Though, something was telling her this felt wrong. There was no way the spirit would…

“We want some answers, you demon,” Anzu’s words interrupted Mao’s thoughts. “Or we’ll have to come out for you and—-”

A booming, haunting screech pierced through the chilly, still air, ceasing the group from what they were doing. For so long, the trio was wearing a tough facade until it took a shadowed deity to strip it. “Who dares disturb Akane-Chizue?!”

Very loud but raspy, Mao notes.

When no one answered the spirit’s question, she roared, “I SAID, ‘WHO DARES DISTURB AKANE-CHIZUE,’ YOU COWARDS!”

The air—-no longer still—-became windy when the spirit raised her voice. Now the group of friends became hesitant until they decided to scream and run toward the exit, leaving Mao to catch up. Though, it’s hard to, what with her clothes and sandals slowing her down. The trio only wore coats, jeans, and shoes to the festival since it appeared they didn’t prefer to wear anything grand.

Halfway to the exit, a large branch rooted to the ground caught her wooden sandal, causing Mao to fall and scrape her hand when she tried to break it. “Aya...” She glanced down at her hand, only to see it’s only a scratch, but it hurts. “Guys?” Mao called.

But there was silence.

She turned, seeing a floating figure approaching, and it was not long when the spirit was visible to Mao, thanks to the moonlight. It’s what the Storyteller described; the kami draped in a black cloak, gray hair was spilling out of Akane’s hood.

Maybe it was too late, but it didn’t prevent the small girl to be on her knees and fold her hands in a praying position. “Please, dark spirit. I didn't mean to bother you. Me and the group were trying to seek answers about our previous spirit in our village, but I did not know they wanted to provoke you. Please spare us, Akane-Chizue, for we did not mean to cause harm.”

Glancing up, the wrinkled spirit huffed out a breath in disgust, her pale, purple lips pressed into a thin line. “And you think I should forgive you like these mortal humans on earth? I’m a dark spirit for heaven’s sake, child!”

Mao flinched from Akane’s raised, bitter tone, but she managed to remain nonchalant. “Yes, but—-”

“And not only was it silly of you to come here,” Akane interrupted the young girl by yelling at her. “but you trespassed into my property when you knew I’m a threat! You will be punished like every human.”

Mao’s lips trembled from the spirit’s bellowing voice that her tears slipped to her cheeks. So Mao cast her eyes down from Akane as she wiped them away as quickly as she could. Though, it was hard for Mao to keep the tears from overflowing.

For a sudden second, a finger lifted Mao’s head, forcing her to see the spirit, who appeared to be apologetic. “Please, stop crying. I can’t bear the sight of any mortal like that. You are like any other, weak and forgetful.”

Despite how harsh the words were, Mao couldn’t help but giggle softly. “S-sorry. I thought you were trying to cheer me up.” After she stopped sniffing, Mao smiled while wiping the last tears from her face. “S-s-so you won’t punish me, then?”

“For now, no.” Akane shook her head; her face was sterner. “But show your face here again, I will not promise you.”

“I-I see.” Mao released a light breath of relief, doing best to both be relaxed while being wary in the presence of the shadowed deity.

“I believe this is yours.” Akane held out what appeared to be Mao’s doll.

No doubt Mao’s astonished by the deity's action. Akane was giving the doll back to her. So Mao took the toy and pulled it close to her chest. “Th-thank you, Akane.” But before she could relax, the young girl’s previous question appeared in her head again. “Are you responsible for the kami’s disappearance, or do you know she’s disappeared?”

Akane blew an exasperated sigh, but she managed to answer. “Just disappeared, child. That’s as far as I knew. And I have specified long ago your kami is gone. Why do you care?”

“I simply said I wanted answers.”

The spirit’s lips trembled briefly, but she remained defiant in front of the young girl. “She wouldn’t leave a goodbye to anyone, not even her people since no one bothered to care. The kami you speak of…” Mao inspected Akane was hesitant of the answer she was about to give her until now. “She was tired of serving the village with beauty and anything heart’s desire that she gave up. Their forgetfulness has left the spirit to be forgotten.” Akane paused and shut her eyes as she screamed, “I can never forgive them for what they did to me!”

A dark spirit, cold and filled with hatred, yet she let it out. Mao didn’t expect from one who could pour out her emotions onto a ten-year-old girl. “You said you only knew my village’s kami has vanished, but you seem to know enough about it than any of us do.”

“Because I knew her,” she exclaimed.

“Or you are her.” The kami flinched from Mao’s answer. “You may call me forgettable and weak, but I know that even spirits like yourself can have flaws, too.”

Akane-Chizue gritted her teeth from Mao’s bold statement. Maybe it’s the first time a human stood up to a deity, despite how scary her appearance was, but she put that aside. And the emotions the spirit was feeling, they were like any human could experience.

“So what do you want me to do, mortal?” Akane said in disgust. “You want me to come back and make everything right again for all of you? Fat chance you can make me.”

Mao’s lips bloomed into a smile and only replied, “No.”

Akane twisted her face into a baffled expression. “Pardon?”

“I won’t force you to come back, even if it means to not able to see the flowers bloom at its warmest season for the first time. As you said, we can be forgetful and sometimes take advantage of the things the gods and goddesses like yourselves would give to us. Though, it does not mean that every mortal can be greedy and that they are to blame for their forgetfulness. We are created in different ways, after all.”

Akane grunted and crossed her arms in defiance. “What are you? A goddess?”

“No, but I’m just a child who understands your pain.”

The spirit’s mouth opened but quickly closed them, as her arms slowly fell to her sides. “Are you mocking me?”

“Not at all. I know what it means when people forget you.” Mao takes a step toward Akane as she continued. “I made friends a couple of times, but they keep moving away. I didn’t have much contact with them, seeing they were too busy for me. But I’m not mad, knowing they were moving on.” She extended her arm toward the path where Daichi, Anzu, and Eiko took. “And you’ve seen what the kids did, leaving me behind when I thought I was part of a group. And they didn’t come back to save me. But I’m not mad, knowing they were afraid because you scared them.”

The spirit huffed out a breath. “Maybe you don’t mind, but I do. And those people you hung out with deserved to be afraid.” She scrunched her face in agitation. “And you should be, too!”

“But I don’t understand why, though? Do you not like people coming to you for help anymore?”

“I…” Akane’s voice trailed off, the question Mao asked was stripping away her false bravado. However, Akane shook her head, glowering at the child. “Why do you care? I don’t mind scaring people because that is what I do!”

Mao’s lips pressed into a thin line, biting off her next words when she knew the dark spirit was failing to listen. Though, she managed to smile again and turn to the direction she was going. “Well, it was nice meeting a former spirit of my village. Despite how cruel you act, I….it’s been an honor to meet you for which you had done wondrous deeds. And thank you for sparing me, even though it was not your intention. Farewell.”

Mao bowed her head and walked away, leaving the spirit aghast.

The conversation might have left Mao sad, but she couldn’t let that conversation with the spirit bother her. The girl needed to keep telling herself she was going to go home and spend the rest of the night celebrating with her aunt. That was if Auntie Hiromi would understand what happened.

Slowly, Mao’s determination ebbed away into fear, realizing now the trip was getting longer than she thought. What made it even more unsettling was the branches are deformed, appearing more grotesque and frightful. Mao was not bothered by it when she was with Daichi, Anzu, and Eiko. But now…

Mao shook her head, pushing the thought aside as she forced herself to move forward while hugging her doll. But after taking a couple of steps, a loud howl was heard from a close range. Usually, Mao didn’t mind the cries the wolves were making outside of her village, but now, she didn’t think that that kind of noise would make her stand in her ground, frozen in fear.

In the dark, Mao squinted to see a pair of glowing, purple eyes before it multiplied into many of them. And for a second, a few, fiendish creatures crawled towards the young girl. A few of them opened their mouths to show off their serrated teeth, while the other beasts closed their mouths as they produced a low, terrifying growl. Emanating from their jet black furs were purple shadows, dancing around them to make the creatures appear threatening.

They're not ordinary wolves, Mao thought in dread.

She wondered if these shadowed creatures were produced by the kami to guard the territory. It's surprising Mao and her comrades did not encounter them earlier.

As the first of the pack make its move, Mao ran and pulled a nearby branch off the ground and struck at the hound, which it flew and hit the ground. Though, it was not enough for the girl to defend herself. And there was no open path for Mao to escape, now the shadowed wolves surrounded her. “Tasukete!” she cried!

When the next wolf was about to pounce on Mao, the creature fell back and faded into a wisp when a wooden staff collided with its head. The young girl’s eyes widened from the attack and grew even more when her sight traveled from the cane to the figure standing behind her.

“Akane-Chizue? I—-”

“Leave, little mortal!” the spirit yelled at her. “I’ll buy you time!”

Mao was taken aback by the deity's action, despite she despised mortals like herself. And when she could not move, the wrinkled kami glared at her. “Go now, or you will regret it!”

There was no choice. Mao needed to get away from here, so she ran as fast as she could until the wolves and the spirit were out of her sightline. However, the girl felt guilty for leaving Akane-Chizue to fend off the menacing creatures she has created. The last thing Mao saw was the spirit struggling to control the monsters when they have disobeyed and decided to turn against its’ creator. Mao didn’t know why unless—-

“Mao!”

A smile of relief bloomed on her face when Mao heard Auntie Hiromi’s voice nearby. Yes, Mao was relieved that she was close to the exit, but at the same time, she feared for the spirit’s well-being. Slowly, her face twisted into a determined look, as her hands curled into fists.

“The spirit is in trouble,” Mao murmured. Without even thinking, she folded her hands in a praying position as she closed her eyes. “Spirit, Akane-Chizue. I beg you to please be well and continue to protect, not only me, but also the people from our village. All I can give you is strength so that you can be alive and well. Please do this for me!”

She paused for a second, thinking what else to say until a voice cut through. “It’s not working!”

Mao was caught off guard by Akane’s voice. “Wait, how can you hear me?”

“You’re the only one that’s connected to me.” Akane made a few grunt noises before she continued to speak. “You’re the only one who believes in me. I may grant your wish, but this is not enough to sustain me from perishing the creatures I’ve created.”

Mao frowned, a hint of hopelessness aching her heart. “There has to be another way!”

For a minute, there was silence. Mao was worried if the spirit is defeated until her voice interrupted Mao’s thoughts. “Give me another name!”

“What?”

“Give me another name so that I can grant your wish. After all, you mortals like to wish and create things, and gods and goddesses alike would do anything for you. Sometimes.”

Mao grinned nervously; the spirit's humorous comment might have eased her, but the girl was anxious about giving Akane a new name. It’s impossible for a mortal to give a spirit a name, considering Akane has a higher status than Mao’s. But if Akane says it was the only way to grant her wish, she could.

After a hesitant moment, Mao took a deep breath and pressed her hands once more; her eyes closed when she brought them up to her face. “Dark spirit. You are no longer called Akane-Chizue. Therefore, you are now called Okimi, a kami of which the spirit dark and withered to blooming a graceful and nurturing one. My first request is to cast out the darkness and protect me and the village.”

As Mao finished the prayer, a small light from the other side grew bright that Mao has to shield her eyes with her hands until, shortly, she saw the forest was no longer looking dead. Shriveled leaves floated away as they turned into peach pink petals, and the trees that were bare now filled with alluring, dark green leaves.
Emerging from the other side of the forest were wolves, no longer in pure darkness; their black pelt replaced in heavenly white, and their eyes an ocean blue. And standing in the middle was the spirit, whose cloak was replaced by a pink and white kimono. Before, the spirit’s hair was gray. But now her hair was brown as the color of maple, covered in tiny white flowers.

“Y-you’re officially Okimi,” Mao stammered.

The reformed spirit chuckled lightly at the girl’s nervousness. Mao realized Okimi’s voice has changed from raspy to motherly. “It is all thanks to you, child. I could not have thanked you enough for what you did for me. I will not forget you.”

“And I won’t forget you, too.” Mao beamed.

“One more thing.” From the bell-shaped sleeves of her Kimono, Okimi pulled out the doll Mao was holding onto earlier. “You keep leaving this behind. I don’t want you forgetting it again.”

Mao blushed in embarrassment. “That’s ok.” The girl’s expression changed into a bright one. “I want you to have it as a way to say thanks and that you won’t forget me.”

Because of the girl’s generous offer, the reformed deity gave a warm smile.

“Mao!” Auntie Hiromi called, which Okimi gestured Mao with her hand to go.
Waving her hand goodbye, Mao sprinted off, following a path of petals scattered on the floor which the kami laid out for her to return. And thus, the path helped since Mao reached the exit where Auntie Hiromi, Mr. Otana, and the trio were waiting for her. Mao ran toward her aunt and embraced her, as Auntie Hiromi returned it. “There you are, Mao!” she exclaimed happily. “I was worried sick that I had to get help.”

“It seems your friends helped us find you,” Mr. Otana said as he nodded toward the trio.

The group was looking nervous when Mao approached them. The group was silent until Daichi broke it. “We’re sorry for leaving you behind.”

“Very sorry.” Eiko nodded his head like a bobblehead.

“Can you forgive us?” Anzu asked.

Despite their action, Mao decided to hug the three of them in return for their forgiveness, which the group gratefully accepted. But the group broke apart when fireworks burst into the night sky.

“What a way to end the year!” Mr. Otana cheered and glanced back at the forest in its new transformation.. “Our goddess has returned, and the village is more beautiful than ever!”

Not returned, Mao thought contentedly. But Reformed.

Time,
Stay still for me.
I need to catch
My breath.
Let my heart
Slow down
For which I
Cannot keep up.
Thump-thump.
Thump-thump.
Heart beat slowing
Down is
The only sound
I want to hear.
I can enjoy
The air that is still.
No commoners
To rush me.
The deadlines
Can wait for me.
I could grin everyday---
No, every minute
If you,
Father Time,
Would stay still for me.

You can critque all you like. I'm sorry if this poem is not perfect, since I came up with it a few minutes ago. The poem speaks about how I feel whenever anxiety kicks in. I do hope you enjoy it.