Dairy Of Ellen

Awakening (4)

The next day.
I sat at the dresser, looking at myself in the mirror.
The mirror glittered in the rays of the afternoon sun. Sometimes I heard birds chirping to disrupt the silence.
In the mirror was a girl who had lost her expression.
I'd woken up in bed like always. There was nothing wrong with my body. The room's peaceful air was the same as ever.

But the way I saw things had changed.
I now saw that it was fake.
I saw that inside my body, my sickness was still progressing.
A bird tapped on the window with its beak.
...To inform me that the boy was here.
I felt a sharp pain in my eyes.

I opened the front door.
Along with the smell of the garden and the slight brightness came the boy, with an anxious look on his face.
When he saw me, his face brightened.
"Whoa, Ellen! You look great!"
He sighed with relief, then faked an apologetic expression.
"Um, sorry 'bout yesterday. For just running like that. I just thought you looked like a monster or somethin'. Scared me. I guess it was jus' me."
A monster.
That word stuck in my ears.
I loosened my lips into a smile.

"Oh, please. I just tripped and got all muddy. I can't believe you just ran away, XX (the boy's name)."
"Really? Thought so. Just seemed weird. Man, I'm a dummy. Hahaha!", the boy awkwardly laughed.
"Heh," I laughed with mouth only, keeping up my smile.
It was peaceful now. The misunderstanding cleared up. We had hope to play together in the future.
I invited the boy into the house.

I shut the door, quarantining the house from the outside world. I felt like the sound carried further than usual.
"Go into that room. I'll bring some pastries."
I pointed at the door in front of the entrance. The gesture and words were all done unconsciously.
"Okay."
He went into the room and shut the door. I knew that sound that would follow.
Click.

Yes. It had locked itself.
"Huh?"
I heard him noticing something amiss through the door.
"Hey, Ellen, there's nothing here. And it got dark all of a su...? U-Uh? Ellen! Why's it locked?!"
The boy futilely turned the handle.
He was frightened by the sudden darkness, no doubt. While I listened, I took a few steps back and squatted against the wall.
"Hm, I wonder why...", I muttered, putting a hand to my mouth.
"Quit jokin' around!", the boy shouted, furiously hitting the door. The sound grabbed at my heart, making me sad.

I distantly gazed at the door. I recalled the boy as I listened to his screams and the beating at the door.
My first friend.
I liked you.
Your hands were soft and warm, like a kitten's.
But you scratched my heart. You hit a sore spot, never to be touched. My torn heart spewed pus, and I couldn't move.
My nose and mouth clogged up, and I couldn't breathe. No. No, I want to breathe. Because I still don't know.
What it's like to love, or be loved.

...Can I eat it?
I heard a voice from somewhere. It sounded like a girl about my age.
You want to eat?, I answered in my heart.
...Yeah, the voice replied.
You can, I answered.

The next moment.

A shock like a huge elephant ramming into a wall shook the house.
My body hardened in surprise. Bits of stone fell from the ceiling.
The boy's voice stopped.
Still feeling the reverberation, I realized what had happened.
The walls of the house had squashed the boy's body.
How did I know?
Because it was my house. It was like a part of my body.
Like one could feel the sensation linger after crushing a grape between their fingers, my body knew everything in the house.
The house made a sound of crunching