My little monster | ✓

Little

|8|

I wake up and look beside me. Ivy is already gone like usual. I decide to stay a little more in bed. On the board of my bed, there are sixty carved lines that I made with an old nail I found. One for each day that I've stayed in this place. It's not that long but to me it feels like an eternity.

I've gotten accustomed to life here. I left the darkroom not long after the conversation I had with Ivy about her family. I still go there from time to time, it's the perfect place to be when I don't want to be seen.

Now, I'm also allowed to go to the garden three times a week. It's nice to get out of the stuffy house. I haven't hidden my grief from Ivy. She firsthand needed to see how what she did destroy me. All those tears shed, she saw most of them. Even if she didn't see them, I made sure she would know about them.

I dress up and go downstairs for breakfast. Ivy's food is the only thing I can never complain about. I say good morning and so does she. I sit down to eat and so does she.

"Are you planning anything?" Ivy asks. It's a normal question, nothing about escaping. I would say I've done a good job in building sort of a friendship.

"I think I will go out in the garden."

I glance out of the window. Luckily, it's not raining today, but it might soon. I finish eating quickly, grab the thick cloak that Ivy has given to me and go outside. I wonder where my feet will take me; in the area inside the fence of course. There isn't much to see, however the sense of mystery never leaves.

At the bottom of one of the trees, a hint of green catches my eyes. I go to check. I push away the branches and dry leaves. It's a small sprout, hidden from the rest of the plants. Living in the shelter the tree is giving her. Everything is dead out here. No place for the new to grow free and how it wants, but the new can adapt.

Something touches on the tip of my nose. A raindrop. In the sky the clouds have gotten darker. My little time away from the house had to be cut short. I sigh and look back at the little sprout.

"See you soon little guy."

Suddenly the rain starts pouring and I jog to the house. I take off my cloak and hang it. That moment Ivy is going down the stairs. This is the perfect time to have a little talk with her. I motion her to the lounge area. She frowns but comes with me anyway.

I sit on the couch closest to the window. Ivy sits down in front of me and waits for me to speak. I stare out at the pouring rain when I speak.

"You should let me out more often," I say and she scoffs.

"And what makes you think I will agree."

"Three times a week, seven times a week. What difference will that make? If I wanted to leave I would have tried again. You know I won't." I try to rationalize with her.

"The answer is no," Ivy says in a stern voice. I keep quiet before speaking again.

"Is there anyone else living here?"

"That's foolish. Have you seen anyone in this house?"

"Not here in the house." I put my hands on the glass window. "Beyond the gates. Are there other houses like this?"

"Not anymore," Ivy says with confidence. I don't even want to ask further than this.

"I've been thinking about it and..." I pause, taking all the courage to say the rest. I look back at Ivy. "Did you take me here because you were alone? You wanted someone to spend time with?" And for them to be your puppet.

"This conversation ends here!" Her voice beams.

I get up and I pass her, keeping my head high. Ivy's eyes follow me up the stairs, but she doesn't say anything.

What a disgusting reason. I think to myself. She destroyed my life, just because she was lonely.

My hate for her boils inside my body. Killing her would be such a pleasure, but no. I will do something much worse. Her death won't satisfy me enough.

***

I stare at myself in the mirror. This place hasn't only changed me from the inside, but from the outside as well. My face is paler, my eyes darker. I can barely see my pupils anymore. I can't remember the last time I genuinely smiled. My hair has also gotten darker, they are still a bit wavy at least.

Mother used to brush my hair every day when I was younger. She would put them into braids and tie them with bows. I run my hands through them and grab a piece. Then I bring the scissors and cut up to my shoulders. I grab another section and cut.

Cut, cut, cut, until it's all even.

I smile, pleased at the end result. I collect the cut hair from the wooden floor and throw it away. I shake my head, letting some of my hair drop to my face. I smirk, spin around and get out of the room.

The moment I step out, Ivy is up the stairs. I walk towards her as nothing has happened. She looks up and stops when noticing my little change.

"What's this?" She asks, still confused.

"What?" I act clueless. She takes a few steps closer, takes a strand of hair and shoves it in my face. "Oh, this. Just felt like it was time for a little change."

"I didn't give you permission to do this!" She yells. I tilt my head to the side in amusement.

"I need your permission?" Something in Ivy clicks and she becomes furious. She grabs me by my hair and pulls my head so I'm inches away from her.

"Everything you do needs my permission. I tell you what to do and you do it!" She pulls on my hair until my scalp starts to burn.

I keep my poker face on, not showing the pain I'm in. I want to stand up for myself, but I need the perfect timing. I need to be a little more patient. My indifference makes her angrier as she pushes me to the ground. My back makes immediate contact with the floor and I wince. The carpet didn't make my fall any less painful.

"I've noticed you changing these past few days. I didn't pay much attention at first but I think you need to be put in place." She steps closer. "You are starting to forget my power against you."