Her Name Was Ellie

Chapter 2

I met her in the middle of April.

I'd gotten permission from one of the professors to use her studio for an afternoon, as I was coming up on a deadline and I was a bit behind schedule. I was working on a particularly difficult piece, and I was getting a bit frustrated. I couldn't take a break, though; I needed to get as much done today as I possibly could.

Needing more paints, I wandered along the edge of the room, trying to find the cupboard with the paints. I'd never used this studio before, so I wasn't sure which it was. The professor had said there were two cupboards labeled paint, but only one actually had paints in it. Something had happened to the shelves, so they had been taken out but were never replaced. Unfortunately, I didn't really remember where the cupboards were, or which one had the paints. All I knew was that one had a black label, and the other blue.

Finally, I found them. I decided to try the blue labeled one. It was colorful, so it made sense that that would be the to have paint, right?

Wrong.

Now, I'm not a very easily startled person, but when I opened the cupboard, I almost had a heart attack.

There she was, blinking at me with wide, golden brown eyes like melted caramel. She was small - she had to be, to fit in there. Curly red-orange hair the color of marmalade cascaded over her shoulders, and freckles dotted her face like little constellations. She grinned.

"Shhh, I'm hiding."

For a moment, all I could do was stare. Once I finally processed what she had said, I realized I was just standing there, gaping. It took yet another few moments to finally get my mouth to work.

"What are you hiding from?" I knew better than to ask why. She seemed like the type of artist to not only keep her reasons to herself, but leave you with even more questions than you started with.

That guess was confirmed when she replied with a vague, "Actually, it's what I'm hiding for."

Although I still had no idea what was going on, I knew I wouldn't get any more answers out of her. Remembering why I opened the cupboard in the first place, I opened the next one to find the paints. I left the door to her cupboard open, assuming that if she wanted to remain squished in there in the dark, she would close it again herself. I'd already been in the studio for half an hour, so she had been in there even longer. I hadn't been very quiet, either, so she knew I was there. Either she had been forced into there and was too embarrassed to let me know she was in there, or she was there of her own free will and perfectly content to stay there. Judging by her reaction when I found her, I'd say the latter.

When I glanced over at the cupboard a bit later, she was watching me, head tilted and legs dangling out over the counter. For some reason, all I could think was, "Wow, the cupboards in here must be pretty strong to be able to support a person."

Soon, she was behind me, looking over my shoulder at my work.

"You know, you look like you could use some inspiration."

"Oh?"

She seemed to consider my work for a bit, then said, "Clean up."

"What?"

"Clean up. You know, put everything away."

"Why?"

She just raised an eyebrow expectantly. "Hurry up." She then walked out of the room, only pausing at the doorway to ask, "Are you coming?"

I have to admit, something about this girl made me curious. Of course, that may have been because I found her in a cupboard. I knew I should keep working, but I really wanted to take a break. Maybe I would regret it, but at the moment, I really didn't care.

So I followed her.