A Life Worth Living

By Michaela Roberts

Have you ever lost someone you loved? What went through your head? That that they were too young, that it wasn't fair, that you should've known them better, that it was your fault, etc...but you moved on, right? You managed to find a way past it and tried to forget the pain that you buried down deep in your heart. What if you could replace it with something better? What if there was a way to overcome it, rather than to bury it and struggle on? Maki Shinobu, a teen from Japan, lost someone very close to her. Nursing her grudges, memories, nightmares, and feelings of worthlessness, Maki sinks herself into a hole of regrets. Stuck in the past with no hope for the future, Maki must discover what it means to really live...and how to let go.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michaela Roberts
• Release date: Oct 19, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301126255

Michaela Roberts

Michaela Roberts is a young author who has dedicated her life to helping people with emotional and spiritual turmoils. A Life Worth Living is her first novel, and she has had poetry published in 7 poetry contests. She has studied Japanese and Spanish and absolutely loves learning. She currently resides in Salem, Oregon with her family and her ten cats.

Book preview

About the Author

Michaela Roberts is a young author who has dedicated her life to helping people with emotional and spiritual turmoil. A Life Worth Living is her first novel, and she has had poetry published in 8 poetry contests. She has studied Japanese and Spanish and absolutely loves learning. She currently resides in Salem, Oregon with her family and her ten cats.

A Life Worth Living

Written and published by:

Michaela Roberts

Cover Art:

Barbara Skog

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2013 Michaela Roberts

All rights reserved

Discover other titles by Michaela Roberts at https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/michaelaroberts

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. If you know someone that would benefit from this and neither one of you has the money to purchase, this ebook, please contact the author. The purpose of this ebook is to reach out to whomever possible. Thank you for honoring the author's mission.

Table of Contents

Acknowledgements

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Author's Note

Contact

Acknowledgements

I would like to extend special thanks to Karen Roberts, Leslie Stubenthal, Don Berger, and author Dee Henderson. It's you guys that got me started and kept me going. Your constant support really gave me confidence. I would like to thank a few friends that inspired and secretly helped build this story, but they shall remain anonymous.

I would also like to thank Emily Iott Campbell. This is for you and for baby Isabella, and for all those who never had a chance to know Jesus. I'll always remember you, Emily, and I haven't forgotten Isabella.

How can I go on without extending some credit to Jesus? Without Him, you wouldn't be reading this. Thank you, Lord, for using me. Nothing could make me prouder. I love you.

Chapter 1

The wind whispered in my head, spinning, spinning. A voice, so far away.

Mitsu...? A whisper escaped me. It didn't feel like me; not at all. What had happened?

Maki? Are you there? A child's voice called.

I'm here! My soul smiled. My sister was alive.

I can't see you.

I- I couldn't move. How I wanted to go to her, but, truth is, I couldn't see her, either. I'm here, sweetie. Can't you hear me? I'm right here!

Help me. I'm scared...

Stay with me... My breath faded. She was dead. I was dead. Don't leave me, dear sister. One last whisper.

The whisper of death.

***

It was the cool, summer breeze that woke me up, chilling my already sweating skin. An iron fist was squeezing my gut, and a pounding head only made things worse. Something wasn't right. Just a dream. I told myself, but I knew that wasn't true. I felt like I was being watched. I froze as memories overpowered me. Could those be dreams, too? I looked over to her bed, expecting her to be looking at me with that silly morning grin of hers.

The bed was empty; there was just a little table, representing what once was. The white rose seemed to glare, the wilted cherry blossoms only reminding me that all things die. I lay back in bed, wishing I could die, wishing her passing wouldn't haunt me so. I remembered the look on her face as she slowly faded. The spark that had always been in her eyes turned to an eerie cloud. She was already dead, even days before she was actually gone. Nothing can have that look in their eyes and still be living.

I still couldn't believe I was leaving her.

I lay back in bed, trying to decide whether to be the tough girl everyone always said I was or to let the tears flow. I slowly breathed in the morning air, hoping, wishing that if I held my breath long enough, all this trouble would disappear. Mitsu would be alive, and I'd be going to school today. But no. You can't snap your fingers and make everything all right.

Mother passed by my room, encouraging me to get up and pack. I didn't want to move; I felt like she had looked those last few days, like I was dead. But, no. I was stuck in this dreadful place with no friends and soon to be no family.

Somehow, I had gotten up and started packing. I was tempted to take Mitsu's things with me, but, somehow, I couldn't touch them.

I turned slowly to look at what was left of my sister. Walking towards her urn seemed like I was revisiting a nightmare. Already, I couldn't remember much about her. I was already forgetting her gentle laugh, her warming spirit, and her sparkling eyes. Avoiding the bed, I hesitantly focused on the table. The rose had wilted and the cherry blossoms had dried up, but I still hadn't removed it. Mother and Father kept pressing me to throw it all out, insisting that the mourning period was over, but I just wasn't ready to give Mitsu up yet. I knew that the moment I left, this tiny little scene in which we'd managed to cram her memories, would be dismembered. I fingered the sorry rose and the linen that was draped over the table. There was origami paper placed precariously underneath the vase. Mitsu had always loved origami. She'd make little swans for the kids at the hospital every week.

Looking one last time around the room that my sister and I had shared for her whole life, I slung my bag over my shoulder, grabbed my luggage, and forced myself to leave the room, trying not to look back.

I headed to the front door straightaway. If I was going to leave, I wanted to leave fast. Lingering only made me feel worse. I kept telling myself to accept this, that it's all part of life, but no. It's not every day you get kicked out by your parents. Oh, I knew it wasn't like that, but I didn't know who else to blame for all this.

When I passed through the kitchen, Mother caught me and tried to make me eat. She was packing my bento when I found her. Told me to eat some rice before the drive to the airport. What was the use? I'd barely eaten anything for weeks, and I didn't feel like starting now. My whole world was ending.

So I sat there, bowl of rice in front of me, my vision blurring more every second, while Mother checked my luggage.

It's not that bad, you know. She said without looking up. America. Home of the brave. She smiled and faked a laugh for my sake, looking up to see my reaction. I ate a grain of rice, and her figure noticeably slumped. She came over and put her arms around me. You'll get through it. Think about it: America. It's all you've ever dreamed!

Ah, dreams. The things of horror to me, now.

I'm fine. I mumbled, pretending it was the rice that slurred my speech and not my silent bawling. America could never be home.

She patted my back softly. Well, then. She walked away in thought. Her voice was like a dream. My whole life was. How I wanted to be brave! I wanted too much to just move on, pretend this never happened, but what could I do? It's done. I didn't know who I was anymore, or what my life had become.

I dried most of my tears, and then guiltily dumped the rice into the trash. I picked up my luggage, and went outside to experience the last of my Japan. I soaked up the rays of the morning sun, the misty feeling of dew in the air, and the majestic reign of Mt. Fuji. It was never Fuji to me; always Our Mountain. Mitsu and I would play in its shadow all day, pretending that wonderful princes came down from there, and that, as long as we were under its shelter, nothing bad could happen.

I turned away, realizing it's not Our Mountain anymore, but it's not mine, either. I dropped my bags into the trunk, then closed and sat on top of it, soaking in the sunlight and trying to forget.

I closed my eyes and listened to the trickling sound of the koi pond, the songbirds' tune, the soft buzzing of a dragonfly's wings. The sounds of life. I opened my eyes, remembering how dead life really was now. Life without Mitsu was like life without the sun; she brought out the light in everything. Now, I saw her in every corner, every speck of the mist that covered the mountain, and every little child's laugh. What was life without her? I was so alone.

On a normal day, watching the birds and listening to the pond would clear my head. Now, the only thing on my mind is the wish that Mitsu were here to see the birds singing, and the butterflies fluttering so gracefully. Mitsu would always say that each creature was a fairy and they'd talk to you if you sang to them. I smiled a little at the memories of her in the garden singing for hours.

My phone vibrated. Tomomi was on her way. She'd been the closest thing I had to a best friend; she lived just down the road. We used to play together, her and Mitsu and I. Ah, the fun we had! We must've looked so silly...Since Tomomi and I had started high school, she wasn't so fond of Mitsu anymore. They had a few disagreements from time to time. I could never figure out why.

I left the garden and climbed on the hood of the car to wait for Tomomi or my parents, whichever came first.

I sat up as straight as I could and attempted a smile. Hi. She waved back at me, and I jumped down, pretending to be excited. I ran up to her and threw my arms around her. She looked numb, but hugged me back.

America, eh? She said when we parted.

Yeah, what I always wanted. My voice lacked excitement.

Mm. Tomomi lowered her head briefly. Well, uh, have a nice flight. She smiled. Call me. She whispered as my parents walked out.

I will. Tomomi disappeared down the road, and I had no choice but to leave.

Stepping into that car was like accepting that my life was over, like I'd never go back. Home wasn't home anymore. Would I ever be back? What if I actually learned to love America? Would I ever feel about it like I do about Japan? Could America ever be home? A horrible thought crossed my mind. What if I loved America and never wanted to come back? Like I'd actually be that crazy, but the thought still stuck in my mind. As much as I wanted to be at home with Mitsu and my family, and the mountain, I couldn't help but feel that exciting things were going to happen in this strange country, things that could change my world.

As if my life needed any more changes.

I tried to sleep for those twenty minutes to the airport. I thought maybe if I slept, this would all go away. If not, it'd at least be a way to forget for a while. Maybe it was adrenaline, maybe it was the nightmares, I don't know, but I couldn't sleep. I couldn't even get my eyes to close.

I finally managed to squeeze a few tears before getting in line for the plane. Mother had tears streaming down her face and Father was silent. As dull as I felt, I managed to cry a little when I hugged them good-bye.

When I left my country that day, dry eyes burning with tears as I stared down at the sparkling ocean, the thought, My life is on hold kept going through my mind. I felt as if my life had flat-lined, and it would take an extremely large jolt to jump-start it again.

Chapter 2

Mitsu was with me again. She was in the car as we were returning home from the airport. It was strange, though. She was so silent, and there was a shadow over her head. I didn't dare ask her what was wrong, because somehow I knew that I didn't want to know. When we pulled into our driveway, she didn't move.

Come on, Mitsu. I whispered. My instincts were telling me to leave her, but I couldn't leave my sister like that.

She turned to me and said, I'm sorry, Maki. I'm dead. With that, the shadow enveloped her, and I watched as her flesh decayed and fell off, her bones whistling as they fell. Somehow, I felt like the shadow was still there, and, even as I walked towards the house, I felt it was coming for me.

***

The ocean was calm. Staring at it somehow managed to calm the effects of my dreams. It was setting when we got to the Oregon coast, and the beautiful colors reflected on the water. I pretended I was a whale watcher, just going on an air trip, and I'd be home soon. I didn't see any whales. As we passed the coastline, I didn't even see any people in the water.

As much as it hurt, I thought about what it would be like if Mother and Father realized they'd done something cruel and horrible and wanted me back. They just lost one daughter, and they're getting rid of another? They'll find out how much they need me, and they'll ask me to come home. I let my mind wander for a minute, imagining a conversation on the phone, or a letter in the mail as soon as I get back from school.

School. That's the only part that I could be even remotely excited about. I've always been curious about American schools and what they had to give.

That final jolt of the landing reminded me how stuck I was, and how far away I was from home. I began to resent Father and Mother for this. They'd just lost one daughter, and they were sending another one 3,000 miles away. Why? Did they not care? They'll find out how much they need me, and they'll bring me back. I imagined I was landing in Japan, and the people waiting for me were not Mr. and Mrs. Johnson, but Mother and Father, beckoning me with open arms. I almost smiled, but then I realized that Father was a foot too tall with white skin, and Mother had a slightly distended belly.

***

Maki! Over here! Keiko shouted, thinking I'd not seen them. I was trying not to cry, and I had been determined I'd go over there when I was good and ready.

I waved and put on a tiny fake smile as I fought the crowd towards them. I nodded to Bruce's good morning, and followed them to the baggage claim.

I figured you'd be hungry, so here's what I was thinking. We could grab something here or- I leaned over and grabbed my suitcase, waiting impatiently for us to get home so I could be alone. -and since your mother will undoubtedly be worried about you, you'd better call her once when we get in the car and once when we get home. Now, I know that... Home. I didn't want to get used to that term. Home is where the heart is, and my heart is nowhere. I just wanted to hide from the world; go somewhere where I can cry in peace, without shame.

I grabbed my other bag off the funnel and turned to Bruce. Let's go. I said, and Keiko let her one sided conversation hang as she followed us to the food court. They ignored my hunger denial and bought me a cheeseburger. Unlike Mother, they didn't insist I eat it, though I did anyway. I was a bit hungry, but halfway through the burger, I got a sick feeling in my stomach. I hadn't been in America for an hour and already I felt like I was accepting their customs. Sure, we had McDonald's in Japan, but there was just something different about eating it here.

Keiko called Father in the car and left a message. Clearly, my parents weren't that worried about me. We'll try again at home. Keiko responded to the bewildered look on Bruce's face.

The ride through the country was calming. There was a mountain visible whenever we were on a hill or crossing open fields. Bruce said it was called Mt. Hood. I really hoped I could see it from the house. Could Mitsu be there? There was no mist like there was on Fuji, but I still clung to the hope that she was nearby.

The Johnson's home was on a hill in West Salem, giving a wonderful view of the city, Mt. Hood, and the muddy Willamette River. I was shocked at how big their house was. It looked so different from our little place back home; it was two stories tall with a basement down below. It wasn't nearly as pretty as our little hut back home, though, and for that, I smiled a bit.

I saw a boy in the window, waving. I figured it was Julian. Hopefully, he'll leave me alone, the dirty rat. We pulled into the driveway and went up the stairs to the patio and the front door. Julian opened it, introduced himself to me, but disappeared pretty quickly. I breathed a small sigh of relief.

The first thing I noticed was that the whole house was carpeted. We didn't have carpet at our house. It really affects the atmosphere, makes it a bit warmer and darker, and I liked the dark. We walked into and Bruce went to go get my luggage while Keiko headed down the hall up ahead. Alone, I entered a small hallway which led to the winding staircase. There was a window a few feet above me, and the sunlight drew me in. I took off my sandals and proceeded upstairs, feeling the soft light blue-gray carpet between my toes. There was another hallway at the top of the stairs, with even more windows. The whole place felt clean and fresh, and smelled like pine sol and air freshener. The hallway was even longer than anything I'd ever seen before, stretching the whole length of the house. There were more windows at the end, and a few doors along the way. Being curious, I poked my head into