blinding; an e. o'connor short story

chapter iv; how the basement worked its wonders

̲"̲R̲e̲м̲e̲м̲в̲e̲r̲ ̲т̲н̲α̲т̲ ̲α̲l̲l̲ ̲w̲o̲r̲l̲d̲ѕ̲ ̲d̲r̲α̲w̲ ̲т̲o̲ ̲α̲ɴ̲ ̲e̲ɴ̲d̲ ̲α̲ɴ̲d̲ ̲т̲н̲α̲т̲ ̲ɴ̲o̲в̲l̲e̲ ̲d̲e̲α̲т̲н̲ ̲ι̲ѕ̲ ̲α̲ ̲т̲r̲e̲α̲ѕ̲υ̲r̲e̲
̲w̲н̲ι̲c̲н̲ ̲ɴ̲o̲ ̲o̲ɴ̲e̲ ̲ι̲ѕ̲ ̲т̲o̲o̲ ̲p̲o̲o̲r̲ ̲т̲o̲ ̲в̲υ̲y̲.̲"̲ ̲
̲-̲F̲r̲o̲м̲ ̲'̲T̲н̲e̲ ̲C̲н̲r̲o̲ɴ̲ι̲c̲l̲e̲ѕ̲ ̲o̲ғ̲ ̲N̲α̲r̲ɴ̲ι̲α̲'̲ ̲в̲y̲ ̲C̲.̲ ̲S̲.̲ ̲L̲e̲w̲ι̲ѕ

Sunday, 8th December 1963 | Tuesday, 3rd September 1940

"He hates me, Emma. Or he doesn't, I don't know! First he acts all nice and friendly and then he just turns around and leaves, which, I suppose, that was my fault, but still and then he says something like that! I'm not even sure anymore wether or not I want this vision to come true," I ranted to Emma and she kept nodding and shaking her head, the smirk still not washed off of her face.

"So what you're saying is he's got a crush but you're not sure about it?"

"I guess...", I mumbled into the pillow I held in my arms.

Emma shook her head and chuckled, "I don't remember it being this complicated with Abe. You two sure are a handfull."

I gave a small smile and sighed. So Emma's vision had already been fullfilled halfway through, seeing as there was no Abraham in Miss Peregrine's home anymore.

"Well, it rather looks like we'll be avoiding each other in the next days. Nothing like awkward visions about falling in love with someone you just met."

Tuesday, 17th December 1963 | Tuesday, 3rd September 1940

And so we did ignore each other. For a good ten days. Sure, there was always occasional glances here and there but no "Good Morning!"'s or "Good Night!"'s or any words at all actually. We just both tried not to avoid any situations where we might have to talk to one another. One time it even went as far as showig up to dinner twenty minutes late so I wouldn't have to be in his presence for too long (Miss Peregrine scolded me for showing up to late but it was totally worth it.). You'd think that at our age you'd be handling situations like these more maturely but the truth was that, being physically a teenager somehow convinced our brains we still were mentally as well.

So on the fateful day of December, 17th 1963 Emma decided it was time for us to stop avoiding each other like the plague. You want to know how she thought she would achieve that? She locked us in the basement together.

"Emma Bloom, I swear to God you are so dead when I get out of here!", I shouted up at the ceiling, hoping to trigger any response from upstairs.

"Keep doing that and she'll keep us in here for a whole month," Enoch snarled from his bed.

I fell back onto the floor in front of his bed and rested my face in my hands. I let out long sigh and lifted my head slightly, just so I was looking Enoch in the eyes while I spoke.

"What do you suggest we do now then? Just sit around and wait until she lets us out?"

"That is in fact what I suggest we do, yes."

"You sure don't strike me as very enthusiastic to get out of here again," I said under my breath.

"Well, this is my own room after all. It's not like it's a prison cell," he stated matter of factly.

"It looks like the only choices we have are waiting it out or breaking the door in, which is not an option, the Bird would actually kill us if we so much as broke the door handle."