My little monster | ✓

Never

|3|

We go up the staircase and into a long hallway. A dark grey carpet is laid on the floor and I've never walked on something so soft in my life. There is minimal lighting, only a few candles placed sparsely. At the end of the hallway we stop in front of the last door on the right.

Inside the room is peculiar. It's split in the middle and both sides mirror each other. Each side has a bed with white sheets and deep blue velvet blankets; a small bedside table with a lit candle and a small wardrobe on opposite walls. Gold details are painted on them. The shapes are unrecognizable from where I'm standing. The more I look at the room, the more it creeps me out.

"This is where we will sleep."

"W-we?" I question.

"You have anything to say about it?" Ivy raises an eyebrow. I shake my head. "In the wardrobe, you have your clothes. Get ready for sleep, I will be back in a moment." She points to the right side of the room and leaves.

I walk to the wardrobe and open it. It's filled with flowy, light dresses. I grab a cotton loose dress. I change my clothes, trying to be careful with my wrist. It's already starting to bruise. I leave my old clothes at the back of the wardrobe, close it and rush to the window. From it I can see the forest we came from, which continues for miles on end.

The window is too high to jump from, but maybe I can find a way to crawl down. I push the frame, but it doesn't budge. The only thing I do is make my wrist hurt more. The door opened and I jump onto the bed. Ivy looks around and then at me. I close my eyes shut. Just looking at her, makes me feel like I can't breathe.

"Go to sleep, I'll show you around tomorrow." I open my eyes and am surprised to see she is wearing a dress just like mine. That was fast. She gets under the blankets and I do the same.

A finger snap is heard and I flinch. The fire burning the candles vanishes, leaving only a trail of smoke. I gulp and face the wall. I wait for sleep to engulf me but with all that happened, I can't sleep. I trace the gold details on the wall, with my finger. They are leaves and eerie flowers I've never seen before.

What is she? A demon? Some evil spirit? Mother and father must be so worried. She can't keep me here forever. Or can she?

Ivy has her eyes closed and her breathing is stable. I wait for more time to pass and then start to move slowly out of bed. The bed is well made, so it doesn't creak while I slip out. I take a look at Ivy and she doesn't move. I take a few more steps.

"The exit door is locked, there is no way out." I jump from her icy voice. I sigh, wiping some tears from my eyes. I get back to bed without sparing her a glance.

***

I wake up and try to lift my body, but the pain on my wrist doesn't allow me. It's covered in purple and blue spots. I massage it lightly to ease the pain. I need to find something to wrap it with. I think it's morning, even though I can't tell from outside. It looks the same as yesterday when I came here. Ivy isn't on her bed anymore. I got up constantly during the night and she was always there in the same position.

I get out of the room and into the first floor. The second floor only has bedrooms. I would guess the kitchen is downstairs. Before looking for Ivy, I check if the front door is locked, just to make sure. It is, but it's better to check. Light is coming from a door a few feet away and I enter. I find Ivy putting plates of food on a small four-person table.

"It took you a while to wake up," Ivy says not glancing my way. Her side comments are starting to get on my nerves and I have only been here for a few hours. "How did you sleep?"

"Better than ever," I say, sarcasm dripping from my words as she sits down.

"Glad to hear." She motions me to take a seat and I do. I don't have any choice anyway. In front of me lays a plate with eggs and vegetables.

"How do I know this isn't poisoned?" I point at it.

"You don't. If you want to you can eat it, if you don't want to then don't and let yourself starve." My stomach rumbles loudly as she says that. I put my head down in embarrassment.

"I know you haven't eaten a proper meal in a long time." She says, taking a piece of egg to her mouth.

She is right. I would always give mother and father the most food and keep what was left for myself. I still refuse to eat it. I won't be here for long anyway and can survive a few more days. Ivy puts her fork down and looks up at me.

"We have to establish some rules for you." I frown, but let her continue."No trying to escape, you will be lucky if you make it past the door." I nod in agreement, however I don't mean it.

I will find a way, just you wait.

"You will do anything I tell you and if you don't, I will make you do it." Her last words make me shudder, remembering last night's events. I should keep that in mind with everything I do from now on.

Ivy continues to eat. I don't want to pay attention to the food, so I just look around.

The kitchen is the room with the lightest colors I've seen so far. No, it's not white, but a pretty grey. Everything about this house is elegant and beautiful, just like in a fairytale.

But this isn't a fairytale. It's a nightmare.

Ivy finishes eating and takes the dishes. My food ends up in the trash, which makes me guilty for wasting it. I stand in the middle of the room, not knowing what to do.

"We can't stay in our sleeping clothes all day," Ivy tells me and leaves the kitchen. I know she wants me to follow her, so I do. I try to memorize every place I've been in so far, creating a map in my head. Maybe Ivy will show me around soon.

***

I look at myself in the mirror. I'm not used to wearing this kind of clothes. The tulle dress is an ashy blue color, long enough to slightly touch the floor. A silver branch-like belt surrounds my waist. Ivy also did my hair. A braid forms a crown on top of my head, while the rest of my locks are let loose. My wrist is also wrapped up and I guess it should do for now.

Ivy is looking at me from the mirror. She is wearing the same dress and has the same hairstyle. This hides our differences and makes us seem even more alike.

"You are like my small doll." Her hands brush through my hair.

More like a marionette. I think to myself.