Respite of a Distant Dream

Memories Entombed, Now Revived

The faint fragrance of strawberry-scented shampoo hangs in the air as he and Evan ascend the staircase- the closest thing he could ever amount to a perfume on Elizabeth, since Father would never let her use real perfume, or apply her mother's lipstick on her cheeks to mimic Circus Baby... or anything at all that involved makeup. She was too young, both Father and Mother had said.

She was too young for such a grisly fate as well.

He shakes the thought from his mind, plastering his friendliest smile on his face to see Elizabeth- her ginger hair, freckles and shining green eyes- the near-perfect copy of Mother, just like Michael with their father. She turns around, gaze brilliant and happy per usual as her glow lit up the room and warmed the hearts of the two boys present with her.

"Evan!" she cheerily exclaims, running towards the boy next to Gregory and tackling him in a hearty, tight bear hug as if she hadn't seen him in seventy years. Gregory feels the gaping maw in his heart grow and widen, burn with a nauseating ache that he swallows thickly like it was nonexistent saliva in a dry mouth and wet throat. Her gaze flicks to him. "Ah- who's your new friend?" she asks, to which Gregory waves- meek and shy and pathetic, so unlike him.

"My name is Gregory- it's nice to finally meet you. Elizabeth, isn't it?" he says before he's met with Elizabeth's suspicious and scrutinizing gaze- nowhere near as anxiety-inducing or meticulously, flawlessly detail-probing as his nebulous, dark eyes, but it's still enough to make him squirm a barely noticeable bit.

"You look similar to Big Brother Evan," she observes, squinting at him deliberately in an exaggerated manner. "Way too similar- almost like identical twins." She turns to the boy in the black shirt, her brother. "You sure this guy isn't your long lost twin brother, or something?" his sister asks, and Gregory's posture tightens awkwardly. Evan's musical laugh echoes throughout the room: "He might as well be, with how well we've been getting along ever since we first met! He even defended me from Mikey and his friends!" he exclaims, to which Elizabeth gapes at him in awe. "Whoa... that's, like, impossible- even for me! You deserve a Nobel Peace Prize or something for that- you're like a superhero!" she exclaims.

The praise makes him all giddy inside, masking the heartache and devouring, gnawing sense of emptiness with hues of warmth. "Thank you- I can't just stand by and watch while other people pick on one another," Gregory says. "Defending your brother was the least I could do for him in the moment."

It was the least I could do for myself. For us.

Hopeful eyes shine up at him, unwavering with a adamant request: "Well, Gregory- you're our friend now. And you deserve to play with me and Evan. I have dolls in the closet, and outfits we can play dress-up with. Whaddya' say...?" Elizabeth croons, fair puppy eyes glimmering up at him. Evan glances to him, sharing his eyes, his gaze, with a knowing look. "I think you know where this is going, judging by the expression on her face," he comments, and Gregory nods.

The pang of jealousy comes, followed by a shock of guilt. Jealousy of this almost-perfect family- shame at how he could think such things, as if he had committed the worst kind of betrayal.

He nods, exhaling at least half of the tension left in his veins. Still, he is wound up, looking for refuge, ready to burst.

"I would love to play with you."

***

Strangely enough, his cheeks do not burn with the slightest bit of shame as Gregory twirls around in the frilly ballerina tutu, the fabric tissue-paper soft and a delicate shade of pastel pink. He takes an absurd amount of pride and flair in adjusting the fake tiara sitting atop his head. "How do I look?" he asks. Evan is sighing through his teeth with secondhand embarrassment, whilst Elizabeth is practically beaming with utter joy that was palpable in the aura around her.