Untouchable
Five.
Her
The first thing I knew was that it was a dream, because my hair was long again, and I felt warm. The second thing I knew was that I wasn't alone. But I was never, ever alone.
My arm felt itchy again, and I started to scratch it. I could almost feel her smiling from inside me. I had always wondered why I hurt but she didn't. I stopped scratching my arm, because it started to sting. She seemed annoyed at me, but I was distracted by my hair. It was long again and down past my shoulders. It was shining and soft. I stroked it, and she got angry. She started pulling my hair, ripping it out with my hands, untill there were only a few strands left on my head.
I couldn't see, because it was so dark, but I felt her pushing me forward, towards something. And even though I couldn't see it, I knew it wasn't something good. She pushed me one last time, hard, and I fell, through darkness.
I gasped as my eyes opened and I could see. I saw a big black rectangle, which was on a table with drawers and empty spaces. My eyes were still fuzzy and my neck was stiff. I sat up slowly and looked around to see that I was lying on a couch with a blanket over me. I quickly jumped up and ran to another room, a kitchen, and then to another, with a table and some chairs. I heard footsteps coming and I hid under the table. They came closer and closer, untill I saw somebody walk into the room.
"Hello?" The person asked, and I recognised the voice. "Where are you? I'm not going to hurt you." He took a few steps forward. "Just come out, yeah?" He looked behind the bench and in a big cupboard which looked like it had towels and blankets in there. Then he came and looked under the table. I screamed in surprise and crawled out and to the other end of the table. He saw me, and stood up again.
Him
She looked frail, tired and scared, but I think she was also a tiny bit hopeful. I didn't really know what to do, so I asked her if she wanted anything to eat. She said a glass of milk. She sat down, and waited.
When I brought it to her, her eyes seemed to shine, but as soon as I put it infront of her, her arm jerked forward and it went rolling to the floor, the milk spilling. She looked frustrated with herself. But as confused as I was, I cleaned it up, not saying a word. When I came back, she had small tears on her cheeks.
"Don't cry over spilt milk." I said, trying to make my voice sound comforting. She shook her head and slammed her hand down on the table, then looked back up at me with eyes that burned as if they were alight. She stood up and ran to the door.
I heard her yell out, and froze. It was a yell like a dying animal, in pain and confusion. I heard something shatter, and slowly tiptoed to the door. She was lying on the floor, with her eyes closed. I went closer but she didn't move. Her breathing was shallow, but she was whispering something.
"She wants me to leave. Please let me leave. I can't stand her being angry. But she's only jealous, that's all." When she said it, she flinched as if someone had slapped her. "I know that she's jealous; of me having a life. She didn't want me to have a family, she didn't want me to have a home." I reached out and picked her up, but she only opened her eyes wide and screamed, wriggling out of my arms. "I told you! She doesn't like it." She curled up into a ball and kept saying "sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry" to herself.
I unlocked the door and left it wide open, watching her slowly crawl away.
The first thing I knew was that it was a dream, because my hair was long again, and I felt warm. The second thing I knew was that I wasn't alone. But I was never, ever alone.
My arm felt itchy again, and I started to scratch it. I could almost feel her smiling from inside me. I had always wondered why I hurt but she didn't. I stopped scratching my arm, because it started to sting. She seemed annoyed at me, but I was distracted by my hair. It was long again and down past my shoulders. It was shining and soft. I stroked it, and she got angry. She started pulling my hair, ripping it out with my hands, untill there were only a few strands left on my head.
I couldn't see, because it was so dark, but I felt her pushing me forward, towards something. And even though I couldn't see it, I knew it wasn't something good. She pushed me one last time, hard, and I fell, through darkness.
I gasped as my eyes opened and I could see. I saw a big black rectangle, which was on a table with drawers and empty spaces. My eyes were still fuzzy and my neck was stiff. I sat up slowly and looked around to see that I was lying on a couch with a blanket over me. I quickly jumped up and ran to another room, a kitchen, and then to another, with a table and some chairs. I heard footsteps coming and I hid under the table. They came closer and closer, untill I saw somebody walk into the room.
"Hello?" The person asked, and I recognised the voice. "Where are you? I'm not going to hurt you." He took a few steps forward. "Just come out, yeah?" He looked behind the bench and in a big cupboard which looked like it had towels and blankets in there. Then he came and looked under the table. I screamed in surprise and crawled out and to the other end of the table. He saw me, and stood up again.
Him
She looked frail, tired and scared, but I think she was also a tiny bit hopeful. I didn't really know what to do, so I asked her if she wanted anything to eat. She said a glass of milk. She sat down, and waited.
When I brought it to her, her eyes seemed to shine, but as soon as I put it infront of her, her arm jerked forward and it went rolling to the floor, the milk spilling. She looked frustrated with herself. But as confused as I was, I cleaned it up, not saying a word. When I came back, she had small tears on her cheeks.
"Don't cry over spilt milk." I said, trying to make my voice sound comforting. She shook her head and slammed her hand down on the table, then looked back up at me with eyes that burned as if they were alight. She stood up and ran to the door.
I heard her yell out, and froze. It was a yell like a dying animal, in pain and confusion. I heard something shatter, and slowly tiptoed to the door. She was lying on the floor, with her eyes closed. I went closer but she didn't move. Her breathing was shallow, but she was whispering something.
"She wants me to leave. Please let me leave. I can't stand her being angry. But she's only jealous, that's all." When she said it, she flinched as if someone had slapped her. "I know that she's jealous; of me having a life. She didn't want me to have a family, she didn't want me to have a home." I reached out and picked her up, but she only opened her eyes wide and screamed, wriggling out of my arms. "I told you! She doesn't like it." She curled up into a ball and kept saying "sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry" to herself.
I unlocked the door and left it wide open, watching her slowly crawl away.
♠ ♠ ♠
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