✧ ཻུ۪۪. love is the most beautiful of dreams ,
and the worst of nightmares . . .
in which the quiet sister of lizzie and mika learns that to love deeply is to ache - that hurt is part of the package, and the beauty...
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ELLA HAD NEVER SLEPT ALONE.
For not only did the darkness worry her, but solitary, too. It was an aspect of life that she had yet to experience, always lucky enough to deny. The girl was not raised with the luxury of privacy, her early years consistent of a three bedroom, one bathroom household, with five individuals forced to share its corridors. Her entire lifeline was spent by the side of another, never left abandoned with the will of her own mind.
Frankly, compared to those days that strived for a desolate landscape, it was a gift. Having developed the fear of being alone, her genetic makeup hadn't allowed her to ever succumb to that possibility. Not while so many others were glued to her side, bound by the connection of blood. For even if she desired it, it was a gift never to be granted. Most especially, not while barred within the sanctuary of a cell, a singular bunk bed having been the only provision for her family of four to divide amongst themselves.
At the top, Ella was assigned the supposedly permanent mattress with her sister, Lizzie. An arrangement she had yet to argue much with, given their history. The girl had always shared a bedroom with the middle child, however never in the same bed. It hardly made much of a difference, though. Their old Floridian home and its spare bedrooms were rather narrow with its square footage, the previous history of stacked twin-mattresses never a surprising addition to her memory. For the majority of her life, at least given the time she could theoretically recall, the eldest of the three had always lulled herself off to sleep to the soft mumble of another's breath, their bodily warmth radiating against the cramped walls.
It was approximately three in the morning when she was disturbed out of sleep, according to their digital, thrifted clock. A time she often doubted to be truly accurate, for their awareness of the present hour had always simply been now.
The most prominent factor of the early morning though, it was undoubtedly the fact that the side of her bed remained cold, empty. It appeared Ella was alone, assumingely for quite some time, given the lack of any residual body heat. Through her foggy lens, plagued by the temptation of sleep, the girl began to blink away her slumber, ultimately perplexed by the sudden luxury excess of leg room. A scenario she had yet to consider herself used to, hence her immediate refusal, first outwardly portrayed by the twitch of her legs. All the while aware of every hinge to the bed she provoked with her movement, the girl found the time to slowly lower herself down the metal bunk, careful to eye her sleeping family, below.
