Time is Ticking

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Chapter One: Meet Moon Clown

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Now, freezing time was a childhood dream of mine. All those ranting paparazzi people, poking around in my business, will just freeze up and stop talking, even without me having to shut their mouths closed with tape. The pesky boys attempting to become my fiancé, and adoring me, when all in all, it's because of wanting the crown and money. Never for me, because I knew this from the start, no matter how many people said that I was lovely. Nobody here, in the high status, loves a short princess, who hides her realization with stubbornness.

This dream, how unrealistic it may be is a hope I have. The last little bit of sanity in my hands, to keep me from losing my temper, and having all those bits of emotion coming out in tears. But having only one dream isn't enough to sustain an emotionally unstable person, right? That's why, when in a very young age, I was scolded for dreaming such wild and crazy things. It was forbidden.

It was hard not to cry, when dreaming wasn't allowed, when, at that time, I wasn't allowed to fantasize, keep myself stable when I was talked rudely about, behind my own back. Even my parents don't really love me, I'm a dud. That's all there is too it. They keep strictly to work, and fight each other every moment they see each other. Love isn't something one could possibly feel, in a hostile, unstable, loveless environment.

But still, I was tugging at my chest, feeling my heart beat uncontrollably, as I fought this urge called 'love'. His name was unknown to me, and remains this way, but the first time we met was when I first shared my hopes. I remember being very cold, and I'd taken a warm shower, and was sitting by the heart; locked inside my own bedroom as a punishment, for trying to be like other kids. I remember glancing outside my open window, seeing the commoner's children having a fun time playing tag, chasing each other up and down the slides of a playground. Tears dried up on my face, and more welled there way down.

It was the day I'd had emotions, the day before I had sealed them away. That's when the vines on the side of the house, below the window began to rustle, snapping. His shout was wild, full of excitement. His hand had gripped the rim of the window, and he kicked up the side of the house, and landed inside my bedroom. His grin was wide, the first thing I noticed. A vine was airborne outside, and my tears stopped. My eyes had widened, as the vine fell again, down towards the playing kids.

I still vividly remember his long, tangled purple hair, seeing leaves from vines stuck in his bangs. He had a honey-brown colored eyes that gleamed with adrenaline. The first thought that came to mind was commoner, and the second was what the heck?

His fists were tight, and suddenly they loosened, dropped to his sides. I didn't know why his mouth hung open for the longest time, because nobody likes me, was it because of how ugly I must look crying?

But it stayed that way, and as his cheeks had burned bright red, and he madly began to brush the dirt off his clothes, and throw the vine leaves out the window; I slapped myself in the face and shouted to stop dreaming. This type of thing wasn't possible for me, and of course, nothing could have shocked me more, that's what I thought next. But he held on tightly to my hand, and mumbled in awe, 'Why'd you damage your pretty face?'

After that day, for the rest of my childhood, we never left each other's sides, always happy together. I didn't act much emotional about anything, and he still smiled even if I ignored him. That's what somehow, made my heart swell with pride. Until one day, he wasn't there. No evidence that he ever existed. Of course, my heart felt tricked, abandoned, so I let it be. Sealing away your feelings with stubbornness was fine to me, as long as nobody cared anymore.

Reality hit me on the top of the head hard, literally. My personal teacher slapped me on the top of the head, making my hair knotted. He spat, "End of lesson! Not like you learned anything…" he mumbled, gathering the supplies off the desk and storming out of the room.

I muttered, "Good riddance." That's why old, bitter teachers are ok for me, because their ears can't hear a damn thing I say. I stood up, and walked over to my mirror. Nothing to do between lessons and it's the truth.

Staring at the reflection in the mirror lowered my self-esteem. How is looking at the reality, the hard, cruel truth…a daily thing to do? It's what mother always does, trying to look nice when she's making herself uglier. She's just an old back of wrinkles, without any love left in her hollow chest. What a nice way to raise a child.

I had thirty minutes to waste, doing nothing. So, I sat in the opposite direction of the mirror, and thought. My fiancé, Fujisaki Nagihiko, was supposed to be the only one for me. He had no siblings like me, and was the opposite height. It made me gag.

Probably here for the money and just the one that succeeded in becoming my lover, with his so-called, 'charms', and 'talents'. Gross. Who cares, anyways?

It was 6:07 PM, and I wanted the lesson to just hurry up and start, so I could get it over with and finally get ready, for what? Well, you'll have to wait with me, first, and then you'll see it when it happens.

The door burst open, a frantic butler bowed to me, shouting, "L-lesson cancelled, Miss, I'm very sorry, medical problems…"

This was actually very pleasing, but I nodded solemnly, and replied, "Thank you for informing me, I'll give you a tip to your paycheck."

"Thank you-!" he exclaimed happily, rushing off down the hallway, his running odd sounding. He was skipping with joy. I sighed, "How predictable." Then I snickered, "A tip…like that'll ever happen."

He can't climb the side off the house, he can't snap vines, and he can't break my heart in such an unpredictable way. That's funny. He came up into my mind again. I stood up, and walked over to the closet. It was full of stuffy corsets, and dresses that made me think of a dull rainbow. I pushed them all aside, and reached over for the clothes hidden behind these dresses.

Tonight, I would become the Moon Clown, one of the famous thieves. Thank god my parents don't care about me, thank god no one does. I began to change into the black and red outfit, resembled like a clown, and a thief, "…Thank god…"

I asked myself, why do I need a few tear stains on the boots? I hesitated, shaking as I put them on. I laughed coldly, "How…hic…stupid…"

My name is Mashiro Rima, a stupid, dumb, emotionally sick princess, and the Moon Clown.