Cursed

Part 19

Part 19

Calista’s POV

I can’t take it anymore.

My stomach growled again, twisting my mind into agony. How long had it been since I’d eaten? Only about a day or so.

Man, I’m so weak. And the scent of warm lasagna outside my door wasn’t helping things.

This had been my plan of action for a while now. Ever since my m- that woman dropped the bomb, I’ve been hiding out in my room. Every day she would bring me meals, and every day I would refuse them. There’s no way I’m touching something made by that traitor.

At first I wasn’t so hungry. I have a fully stocked mini-fridge in my room for homework and had been rationing it out, but it only lasted for two days. Monday is when it first ran out, and now sitting here at 5:00 on a Tuesday, it had been officially 24 hours since I’d eaten.

That’s not that bad. Loads of people on earth have to go longer without food. But my stomach still groaned and pain still shot through me as if it were attempting to eat itself. I wonder if she eats. No. It’s too soon for that.

/ ‘Its too soon! I’m not ready for that! Wah wah wah.’ You sound like someone trying to make up an excuse for not being in a relationship. Tell me Calista, when will you be ready? Because I’m starving right now so you need to get your act together and do something./

 As if on cue, my stomach to rumble again and I clutched my head in despair. I would have to think. To formulate a plan.

After sitting in contemplation for a while, only disturbed by the occasional stomach jolt, I finally decided on a plan of action and reluctantly lifted myself up off my bed. As I stepped out of the doorway, I stopped in my tracks. The scent of lasagna was too strong now for me to ignore and although it was cold and hard now, I still managed to gobble it up greedily. Licking the plate like a dog. Finally I finished my meal and threw down the plate in disgust with myself, was I really that weak? Could I really not last a day without food? I hastily turned away from the empty plate and cast my focus elsewhere.

The stairs creaked underneath my feet as I slowly made my way to the kitchen. She probably heard me already, but she still remained silently in the room. Not making any motions that might confirm my suspicions. Shrugging, I decided to make the most of this fake element of surprise and stopped in the doorway.

“We need to talk,”

Electus spun her head around to face me. Her eyes were puffy and red as if she had been crying, and although it disturbed me to see her that way, I held no sympathy for her in my heart. She leapt towards me, arms outstretched for a hug. But when I refused she simply nodded and moved aside so that I could have a seat. Almost immediately, she grabbed her chair and pulled it over so that we were facing each other. Awkwardly, I shuffled my seat back slightly and watched as her face fell. Still, I remained emotionless. I was a blank canvas. Only her next few words could paint a picture, but there was no telling what kind of a picture it would be. Electus sniffed and wiped at her eyes once before taking on a sudden regal personality. She sat straighter and looked at me seriously, all the pleasantries gone and completely focused on the intensity of this moment. Finally, she spoke.

“First, I want to make one point clear: I am not human. I know I may seem like it, and I’m so sorry for deceiving you, but the only way I can explain this is if I do it in my way. My real way. So I need you to respect that fact that some things I will speak of may startle you in some ways. But weather or not you choose to believe them is up to you.”

“You lied to me. Every year of my life has been a lie. Fake. Do you really expect me to ‘respect’ you after that? But I will listen. Only because, even if you deny it, we both know that your story is true. And we both know that I’m going to be involved in it. So start speaking.”