My little monster | ✓

My

|7|

I've never noticed how routine the life in this house is. I wake up, while Ivy has already gotten out of bed and get dressed as breakfast is being cooked. We eat, Ivy cleans and I also help here and there and I'm free to do my own thing throughout the day.

Reading in the library has been my usual time spent. Hours and hours devouring one book after another. Ivy does have a great collection.

As much as I'm allowed to linger around, Ivy checks on me all the time, cautious of my actions. She isn't the only one keeping an eye on the other though. It's hard to get more information about her powers since she rarely uses them around the house. It does make sense, why would she need to turn into a monster to wash the dishes?

Her life is quite monotone to say the least. She never goes out of the house, rarely out in the garden just for short walks. She reads in the lounging area or sometimes just stares off into the distance from our bedroom window.

I'm still not allowed to sleep in that room though, even after she sealed everything shut. I've only spent three nights in that dark room and every night I wanted to crush through the walls to get out.

Ivy keeps being suspicious of my kindness, but she isn't glaring at me all the time now so that's progress, I guess. I hold back any unnecessary comments and dip them deep in me so they can never escape. I'm scared of Ivy, I really am. I try to contain myself, but every time we lock eyes, I want to throw myself in a hole. I didn't use to feel that before, but after the escape attempt, everything changed.

Ivy needs to trust me, for me to break her into pieces.

I sit on the soft couch in the lounge area, staring outside. It has been pouring for days and it probably is not planning on stopping anytime soon. With my finger, I trace the water droplets racing each other.

Tears roll down my cheeks as I cry silently. Mother loved the rain. She would always say how it would bring her peace. She longed next to the window watching the rain for hours on end. Every little thing reminds me of her these days.

"Are you crying?" I quickly wipe my tears, before turning towards Ivy. She examines my face as I try to force a smile, but fail.

I don't answer her question, going back to staring out the window. Ivy sits next to me on the couch, but I don't pay attention to her.

"You have been quite happy these past days. Why the sudden change of mood?"

"Probably the weather is making me a little emotional. It reminds me of my mother. I was really close to her. She was the only reason why I wanted to go back. Now, I don't have to go back." I stare into her cat eyes for a moment and then get up to go to the library.

I glance one last time at Ivy before she's out of sight. She is fidgeting with her hands and looking around. I would like to think my words had the slightest impact on her.

I enter the library and pick a random book. I flip through it, trying to read but none of the words stay in my head. I huff, giving up. I wander around the room. This place is like a labyrinth and every time you go through it you can notice something new. In one corner the books' condition noticeably changes. Mostly all the books here are well-kept but in this seemingly hidden area, they have broken spines and a few loose pages that peek on top. The air is heavy with the old book smell. Some of the titles are in a language I don't understand.

I reach a wall and I'm about to turn around when something catches my eye. Between the space of the bookshelf and the wall, there is one side of a wooden frame. I pull on the frame and it looks like a family portrait. It reaches up to my chin, so I take a few steps back to see it whole. It's a family of four. A middle-aged man with a harsh, stern look on his face. His black hair has hints of white at the roots. A woman beside him, around the same age. She is elegant, wearing pearl earrings and has her hands on the shoulders of two girls sitting down on chairs in front of them. One is around 10; she is smiling widely, showing two missing teeth and her eyes have turned into half-crescent moons.

When I look at the last girl, a chill runs down my spine. It's Ivy. She does look a little younger, but it's undoubtedly her. She and her mother share the same soul-piercing eyes. This must be her family.

I wonder why would she hide this here? Usually something like this would be hung up somewhere, not sitting in the back of a bookshelf, collecting dust.

I crouch down so I'm face to face with Ivy. Besides the fact that she's a little younger, there is also something else different. The corners of her lips are tugged upwards slightly, but not in a smirk like I'm used to seeing. It's more of a soft, calm smile. I've never thought about Ivy's family. She has to have one, and obviously does, but where are they? Are they dead?

"Did she kill them?" I mumble to myself with a tremble in my voice.

"Your imagination sure runs wild." I freeze.

"Turn." She says in a stern voice, but I don't. She lets out an annoyed sigh and turns me against my will. Every time she uses her power on me, it leaves a feeling of invasion.

"So, do you really think I killed them?" She tilts her head and raises one eyebrow, waiting for my answer, but one doesn't come. I'm too scared to say anything.

She scoffs at my silence. "I didn't. Yes, they were killed, but not by me." A chill runs down my body. My mind is already thinking of a thousand stories.

"Was it a human?" I whisper.

"That would have been a better story to tell, wouldn't it." She turns and starts walking away. I take one last look at the framed portrait before following her.

Walking beside her, I glance from time to time. Now, I want to know what happened, but I can't ask.

So, Ivy please tell me how was your family killed? Yeah, no.

"Why do you want to know so badly?" Her words surprise me. It's as if she can read my thoughts.

Can she? Maybe it's one of her powers. No, it can't be. As I'm lost in my head, Ivy keeps waiting for an answer. Her stare burns holes in my body and I snap out of my thoughts.

"No reason." I shrug.

"In this place," She motions around the house. "My kind has been living for hundreds of years. Each person has left a little of themselves in this house."

I think over her words. My kind, so all her family must have had powers like hers. The feeling I have been having since I got here just because of being exposed to their power.

"Where is this place even located? I'm sure no one has ever been able to find it." I ask.

"Let's just say you can't go back to your home just by walking." She stops to take another look around. Maybe she is recalling some memory. "But this is your home now so it doesn't even matter, does it?" I stay in the middle of the hallway as she continues to walk.

"Oh and Eva." She spins in my direction. "My father killed my sister and mother."

"W-why?"

"He was scared that someone could be stronger than him. I guess he realized what he did, so he took his own life moments later."

"How did you survive?" My voice trembles.

"I stayed hidden. That is one of my biggest regrets." The click of her shoes hitting the ground echoes in my ears.