Naomi Vega Pt. 1

Naomi had sat alone, the flat air raising the hair on her arms as the thin cold kept her unease at a peak. Her fingers scraped at her scalp, tugging at dense curls and occasionally separating them from her shoulder. Her eyes were downcast, as unstill as her quaking body, breaking the plain stillness that brought peace to the empty room. The sound of her tanned fingers drumming against the metal slab of table were in tune with her muttering voice, running through too many thoughts that she had no way of keeping up with.

  Her soapy eyes were steadily focused on the mirror of her soft face, blurred upon the matallic surface. She didn't like it; her face, the sight of what could be behind her. But it was easier in comparison to the clear mirrored glass that stood on the wall in front of her. The only thing worse than her own reflection and the backdrop behind her would've been the paranoia of thinking what could be staring at her through that damned mirror of herself. What eyes could lie beyond? Who would it be? Those mutters were trying to figure it out, trying to remind her that she still had a voice of her own.

  The door to Naomi's left side slowly peeked open, whoever pushing it being careful not to cause a stir. But the discreet nature only further startled the model, a gasp escaping her as Naomi's wide eyes darted to the source of such an eerie sound.

  "Hey hey hey, it's alright, I'm just here to talk. I'm with the police."

  The voice was deep and the face reassuring, the amber eyes staring back and easing Naomi's mind. The girl held her stare though, eyes narrowing in questioning to the man before her.

  "I am detective Hiroki Akiyama, I just want to ask a few questions in hopes of catching the man who did this."

  Hiroki strolled to his seat just across from the celebrity, the light clacking of his shoes causing a soft echo through the room. Naomi's body would quake just a little in response to each sound, leaning back in her chair as the detective took a seat.

  Her gaze was unmoving, finally given an excuse to stare at a face that wasn't her own.

  "It wasn't a man and you aren't going to be able to find it." The model muttered abruptly.

  Naomi's hand would drift to her opposing wrist, nails digging into the model's tanned skin; a sense of pain, power she could hold over her own body that nobody could take away. It was morbid, she knew, but it was all she had.

  Hiroki frowned, pulling his notepad out from his pocket along with a pen. His fingers would drift over each page, stopping just after the sheet from where he wrote down information during the crime scene investigation.  The detective's eyes would focus on the paper, pen pressing against the golden pad with an aggression rooted in eagerness.

  "So, the person who did this, they were a girl?"

  Naomi shook her head, her eyes darting down to her wrist, trying to focus on the self inflicting of pain she placed upon herself.

  "No. It... It's... Not a man. Not human. Not a being to visualize or explain."

  Hiroki had glanced up from his notepad, his brows knitting together. He eventually sighed after a moment, scooting forward and sitting up in his seat. He sat his notepad down to his right before folding his arms over the metal desk, eyes now focused on Naomi.

  "You are aware of your diagnosis, correct?"

  Naomi's eyes would quickly glance up to meet Hiroki's once again, narrowing in a fit of irritation; caused by a lack of understanding.

  "Yeah. Im a schizo. That's what you are asking, right? Well guess what, I've been medicated for a couple months now and I haven't had any hallucinations. Minor delusions maybe, but no hallucinations. So you aren't going to convince me I'm just going crazy, alright?"

  Naomi's hands would visibly twitch, as if she had the jitters from one coffee too many. She'd grunt, shutting her eyes tight and burying her fingers into her hair once more, tugging at it.

  Hiroki had shaken his head in response, holding his hand up in reassurance.

  "No, I wouldn't be interviewing you if I thought you weren't capable. Let's move on from that question, alright? Just tell me what happened and we can go from there."

  Naomi had shifted from annoyed and insulted to tense, her eyes glancing to her side. Her scratching ceased and her shaking stabilized. The fear that crept into the model's stare however, it reaffirmed the trauma that the detective suspected she experienced.

  "Ren... He was walking me to his car to drive me home after an important party for a clothing company. I was a bit paranoid and he always drove me if I felt too nervous to walk alone." She explained.

  "Name of the clothing brand you two had been working for?"

  "Neo Sakura. They make alternative clothing that blends American and Japanese modern trends."

  "Okay, then what?"

  Naomi looked down, her hands that had now been resting in her lap gripped at her creamy white jeans, a finger on each hand tugging and scraping against the tears on her thighs, held together by a few strands of fabric. Each one would pop off, causing a small flinch from the girl as tears pricked at the corner of her eyes.

  "We walked down the alley alone. Ren had been joking around, trying to put me at ease. He knew I was having a really bad night... And then..." Her voice ceased.

  "Yes?"

  There was a pause, Naomi's brows furrowing as she attempted to find the proper words.

  "The voices came back. Telling me they wanted his soul. If they took his soul, they would spare mine. I... I didn't even consider it! I just froze. I promise didn't want them to, I just didn't know what to do! And... And when he hit the floor, screaming... Choking... As that thing..."

  Her voice would trail off once more, hands burying into her hands as the girl choked up. Eyes reddened alongside her nose, she would sniffle, looking away with disgust not only for what did this, but herself.

  Hiroki had been wide eyed, his writing freezing mid-sentence as his pencil suddenly dropped to the floor. Whispers? A need to consume ones soul? No...

  Naomi had glanced at the now uneasy detective, face softening as she recognized such a look. Her eyes widened and the model grew attentive in her seat, slapping her hands against the table.

  "You saw it too, didn't you?" She asked.

  "I know that face, you saw something that I did? Heard something?"

  She took power over Hiroki, even for just a moment, but the man didn't allow it. He coughed, straightening himself out and quickly choosing to change the subject.

  "You said you were hearing voices again, correct? Perhaps you had a rare episode?"

  Naomi scowled, balling her hands into fists as she attempted to burrow them into the table. Hiroki was unmoved as the girl's actions, ultimately causing the model more pain that she would likely feel later.

  "It wasn't like that! Ren heard the voices too! He begged and pleaded as he wilted away, his voice disappeared, his cries, his soul..." She hissed, looking down and shutting her eyes tight.