ecstasy | corpse husband

chapter 18.

seattle, washington
day seven

time blurs by unimportantly.

the air gets bitter, the impending storm more menacing, but those details flow away in the wind and get lost in the mist. much like elowen wishes for, desires, to be lost in the mist.

she feels like she's wandering for the undistinguishable measure of time after her heart grows hollow. not walking or moving forward—that would entail purpose. she's merely transient in her mind, being guided along a path she doesn't care to pay attention to.

corpse is there, she knows somewhere in her head. there was a time when he was not, and for that, she burns quietly, inwardly, but things are not the same. he is here, the earth has tilted, and she is unsure how to feel about it all.

she can only be grateful for one thing. the numbness finally came.

things got worse before they got better. she spent the day of elijah's death in silent agony, and every cell that composed her shared the ache. she was a mixture of inflamed emotion; grief bleeding into resentment twisting into confused loneliness. she remembers corpse giving her space after she was unresponsive to him.

but then she woke up today from a restless sleep, and she felt hollow.

she didn't think she'd get over it so quickly, but she won't complain. part of her wonders why elijah's death is breaking her so fervently in the first place. it isn't like he was actually her blood or family, and yet she feels she must've already built love for him. she'd gotten attached the way she so notoriously manages to do.

but he's gone, and a void took his place. her head has finally quieted, her conscience has subdued. she is unaware of her heart and content in that ignorance. It feels better that way.

each time she thinks about what happened yesterday, she feels her mind slipping away from her. each time she discerns what it has to mean, she feels madness creeping in and tainting her memory. she realizes she can't trust her own thoughts, can't trust herself.

It's a terrifying kind of entrapment.

but people don't eat people. that isn't what's confusing her. what she needs to figure out, is why her brain played such a trick on her. and why it was so well-played, she can't deny that she still believes what she saw under all of her repression. for this reason, repression is key—to convince herself that her mind deceived her.

but then, how did elijah die? if not for joey?

she begins to formulate theories in which elijah did not die. maybe what she had seen hadn't been real, or it was severely distorted in her memory. corpse didn't see anything; he couldn't confirm. he doesn't believe her story, either. there's still a chance she was wrong.

the mind can be an unapologetically cruel force.

her eyes are glazed over as she's following the mirage that is corpse in front of her—the only thing keeping her from wandering aimlessly. she doesn't miss the way he keeps glancing at her over his shoulder, as if making sure she's still there. still with him.

but she isn't.

there's a thing she can't figure out, and she's too afraid to ask. where had he gone yesterday? why had he left them? what made him come back?

as much as there is an invisible rope tethering herself to him—she can see it loping between their bodies as they walk—there is also a pair of scissors in her back pocket that her fingers are itching to grab to sever the connection. her anger demands it.

something else inhibits her.

the breeze picks up suddenly and rustles the damp leaves on the ground. she unzips one of the pockets on her dad's jacket to stick her hand inside for warmth, and as she does, she feels a slip of paper. she removes it and finds that it's a scrap of paper torn off from a coloring book.