Past
I pace the length of the basement as far as the chains would let me.
They rattle behind me, their heavy clink is the only sound surrounding me in the looming darkness.
No idea if it’s night or day. Back home, I associated the dark with nighttime, but there doesn’t seem to be a sense of time in this place.
The red woman didn’t show up.
I’m never sure if she’ll hug me or hit me across the face, telling me to bring back her son.
There’s also the girl who looks like a doll — Elsa. It’s been a long time since she came by.
Time here is so messed up. It feels as if I’ve been trapped for two months.
Maybe it’s less. Maybe it’s more.
Mum used to say that when you’re free, time flies by, but it becomes long when you’re trapped. I didn’t understand her back then, but now I do. Time is weird that way. Time is endless and short all at once.
The door slowly creaks open. I come to a halt, the chains slowly hissing to a stop, too.
It’s the girl.
The red woman wouldn’t open the door slowly, she’d barge in, sometimes startling me from sleep.
Elsa’s small footsteps echo in the empty basement. She brings light with her — and it’s not only because of her torch.
It’s her entire presence. Her little bunny shoes and her tiny sleeping dress.
She smells of marshmallow, honey, and the beginning of spring. If light has a smell then Elsa is it. Just like Mum smells like warmth.
Sometimes, I wonder if I’m talking to imaginary people like Mum. I thought of Silver and Kimberly’s dolls and then brought them to life so I can stay calm.
Dad says to always stay calm. Emotions can be my downfall. Just like my mum. He says she feels too much, and that’s why she cries a lot.
I think she cries a lot because he doesn’t feel enough.
Elsa tiptoes close to wrap the blanket around my shoulders. Since I’m taller, she strains and huffs in frustration, blowing on her golden strands.
My lips twitch as I lower myself so she can properly do it. She grins with triumph and drops her bag on the floor. There are a sandwich and a bottle of juice today.
“I did them behind Uncle Agnus’ back.” She puts a finger on her mouth. “Don’t tell him.”
I sit on the cold floor and take a bite of the sandwich. It’s filled with bacon, ham, and all sorts of cheese.
Elsa likes putting cheese everywhere. I don’t really care for it, but I eat anyway.
The red woman only gives me water, if it weren’t for Elsa, I would’ve starved.
“Thank you.” I swallow my first mouthful.
“If you want to thank me, tell me your name.”
She crouches in front of me, crossing her arms over her knees and leaning her head on her arm.
It’s become a habit of her to watch me like that.
Like I’m an alien.
I chew on my next bite slowly, thinking about her words.
Dad always says to never give my name to someone with bad vibes. Elsa doesn’t give bad vibes, but she lives in a place that does.
The red woman looks so much like her, too. Maybe one day, she’ll be the same.
Elsa frowns. “Why don’t you tell me your name? I told you mine.”
I remain silent.
“I’ll just call you Grey Eyes then.” She grins as if she came up with the most unique nickname.
“I had a teddy bear named Ted, but I had to give it to two children like you. If I still had it, I’d give it to you.”
I continue chewing silently.
“If I can’t find the keys that open your cuff, I’ll tell Daddy when he comes back. He’ll save you like he saved them.”
Still, I say nothing. One, I’m hungry. Two, I like it better when she talks. Her voice is like a classical melody, soft, elegant, and… peaceful.
“How old are you?” she asks.
“Eight.”
“I’ll also be eight soon.” Her missing tooth shows when she smiles big. “We can be friends.”
“I have friends.”
“Oh.” Her expression falls.
I want to kick myself for making her feel bad. Cole keeps saying I should make my words less direct.
No idea what that means.
However, I don’t want Elsa to feel bad. What if she never returns and I’ll stay in the dark all alone?
She peeks at me through her eyelashes with puppy eyes. “Can’t you add one more friend?”
I open my mouth to agree.
“Wait!” She reaches into her pocket and retrieves a small pack of chocolate balls. “I’ll give you two of my Maltesers. They’re my favourites.”
The sound of the bag fills the basement as she opens it and brings out two small balls. She bites her lower lip, eyes squinting hard, then retrieves another one. “Okay, I’ll give you three.”
She reaches out her hand then drops the three pieces back into the bag and offers it to me with a resigned sigh. “You can have them all if you become my friend.”
When I don’t take it, she shoves it into my lap. “I gave you my Maltesers, you have to be my friend.”
I smile at her funny expression. She looks on the verge of taking back her chocolate and running away to eat them in the corner.
“Okay,” I say.
“Okay?”
“Okay, I’ll be your friend.”
She claps, giggling. “Yes!”
I take one chocolate ball and offer her the rest. “We can share.”
Her teeth sink in her bottom lip. “Are you sure? I gave them to you. I don’t want to be rude and take them back.”
“Friends share everything.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
She snatches the bag of Maltesers and stuffs her mouth with two balls of chocolate. “Hey, Grey Eyes.”
“Hmm?” I watch her twinkling eyes as she chews. Some of the chocolate sticks to her upper lip.
“When I grow up, I’m gonna buy you a bucket of Maltesers.”
“Why?”
“Because Dad says you have to buy gifts for the one you marry.”
“Marry?” I whisper.
“Yup!” She grins. “When I grow up, I’m going to marry you.”
“You can’t marry me.”
Her face contorts. “Why not?”
“Mum says you have to love someone to marry them.”
“Then you can just love me.” She throws her hand in the air. “What’s so hard about that?”
I remain silent. This girl is crazy.
“Hey, Grey Eyes.” She scoots closer. “When I give you the bucket of Maltesers, are you going to share it with me?”
I laugh and she laughs with me. Her laughter is like the sunshine after a rainy day. It’s the sun peeking through the cloudy sky.
As I watch her, I realise I want to see her laugh all the time.
Maybe she’s right. Maybe after we grow up, she needs to stay close so I can see her laugh this way every day.
She has the most beautiful laughter I’ve ever seen.
“Promise you’ll marry me.” She holds out her pinkie.
I curl mine around hers. “I promise.”
