Elora Van Eck | Kaz Brekker

TEN | ORANGE & APPLE

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e l o r a

  THE BIRDS CHIRPED THEIR GOODBYES as they headed towards their neat nests, meaning to let their rest of day fade into morning. Elora pricked her ears. She listened to the differences the animal's voices exhibited. Shrill, fast, pleasant, slow. She saluted the sunset laying on the horizon, a sad smile tugging at her lips.

  Something she had never appreciated as much as she did then: The mesmerizing beauty of nature. And she felt like she'd missed years' worth of admiration towards mother nature's creations.

  Elora absorbed the color mixture of the sky as if it were the most beautiful thing that her eyes had ever seen. The sun dipped down, disappeared behind trees and mountains, slow and civil. The girl did not deviate from her view for a moment. Not until the light of the world was flicked off entirely and the night lights decorated the deep black sea, weighing heavy on her eyelids until she fell into a deep slumber.

  In the morning, the dazzling rays of the early rising sun pried her eyelids. The birds had awakened from their nocturnal rest and rounded the area. From her bed, if she turned her head slightly to the right, she could see the light blue sky. On a beautiful day when not a single sad cotton ball hid the cheerful blue, a smile crept over her lips. For long moments then, she stayed in her bed and lost herself in the blanket of the planet before peeling herself out of the covers and starting another unspectacular day.

  Repetition was her pastime, routine her certainty. She always tried to stick to a never-deviating routine of her day in order to cling to her sanity. So as not to lose sight of life.

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  ELORA WAS SITTING on the windowsill. Her arms wrapped around her legs, hugging them tightly to her chest. Her eyes were fixated on the sunset. That day a bucket of warm orange color seemed to have overturned, for the sky shone in the powerful tone. Optimism danced through Elora's nerves, arriving in her brain simultaneously with a wave of security. This sudden excess of positive emotions covered the young girl's skin in goosebumps, body hair stood on end when after a long time of emptiness, she finally remembered her own pulse.

  As soon as the final state of the night had reached the little part of the world she was in, she hopped off the windowsill and strolled over to her wooden desk. It was rotten, wobbly, and if it were touched too jerkily, at risk of crumbling into dust. Nevertheless, she switched on the desk lamp placed on it to illuminate the paper sheets that were in neat piles.

  As she did every day, she sat down, picked up a piece of paper and a pen, and began to write. Not even a short pause for a sensual thought was necessary. The words flowed from her fingers like a river, fell from the ink like a waterfall, met on the paper like in a troubled spring.

  Everything that came to mind she put on paper. She captured the dream of an ideal world and imprinted it to set the manifestation in motion. Looking at the tall piles of scribbled paper, it seemed like an impossible amount of wishes. However, every single word was related to the following, and all sentences had something in common. Hope.

  She hoped for redemption, the disappearance of her loneliness. And the promised return to her safe home.

***

  ELORA AWOKE with a jerk, almost tipping over from the chair on which she had fallen asleep. Ink stains stuck to her face and without daring to look in the mirror to make sure of the presence of the black dots, she rubbed her cheek until it glowed bright red, scrubbing away the remnants of deep sleep.

  It often happened that she was so caught up in her own world that she did not even notice how the tiredness crept up and pulled a sack over her head.

  Elora hated not to wake up in her bed – to not feel the rays of the sun on her skin and determine whether a pleasant day or a thunderstorm showered day stood before.

  The door fell open and Elora immediately jumped to her feet, standing bolt upright when a figure entered the room. Elora swallowed. She had not anticipated that so much time had already passed, and yet the friendly woman suddenly stood in her room, a tray filled with tea, fruit, and bread balanced on her palms.

  "I have your breakfast," she smiled as she entered and placed the tray on the bedside table next to Elora's bed. Then she turned to the girl. Her gaze wandered slowly along Elora's entire figure and a frown awoke between her eyebrows. "Did you just get up?"

  Elora nodded; her eyes ever so slightly wandered towards the still-open door.

  "Oh," said the girl, "don't worry, the Madame is not here today." She closed the door gently and sauntered over to Elora's bed, plopping down on it.

  The woman appeared to be in her twenties. Her white-blond hair lay in a strict braid down her back, a light blue bow holding the strands together. A soft smile graced her young face. She patted the bed next to her.

  Elora relaxed. A smile settled on her dry lips, and only then did she notice how much she had longed the food. She strutted over to her bed and plopped down next to the blonde girl. A hand immediately reached for an apple. The taste explosion was incomparable to anything she was ever allowed to taste, and her face reflected this pleasure to a high degree.

  "Fantastic, isn't it?" grinned the blonde proudly. Elora's eyes were wide and immediately she bit another big piece out of the lush green. "Fantastic? Klara, this apple is divine!" Elora said incredulously, "Where did you get it from? Otherwise, there are only those red, floury ones."

  "I have my ways," giggled Klara, "and I wanted to do you something especially good. You once mentioned how much you like green apples, so I got you one." Suddenly the mood swayed around an oppressive gradient. At the given point in time, it was not yet clear whether sadness, anger, worry, or even joy would predominate. But Elora had a bad gut feeling. She slowly chewed on the piece of fruit and as it made its way into her stomach, her eyes turned to the girl next to her. Klara's eyes gave it away. Nevertheless, Elora needed to hear her say it. "Tell me." Elora pressed her lips together tightly, waiting for the answer she did not want to hear.

  Klara, the girl who had become an incredibly good friend to Elora, spoke softly, "I'm afraid I won't be able to bring you your breakfast anymore. Or your lunch. And your dinner either." Klara played with her fingers. "Elora, I am leaving, I won't be staying here any longer."

  Elora knew that this would come someday. Not because she was told, but because Elora was not granted anything good. The fear of abandonment never left her. But she didn't show any signs of trepidation. Not anymore, for by now, the feeling of it was carved into her every bone. Everything and everyone that had ever given her joy was robbed from her at some point. That was nothing new. She was used to disappointment. And yet this realization hurt a little more than expected.

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No, you're not supposed to know what's going on. Not yet <3

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