Sister

 

She could hear it, the never ending distant ticking echoing in the stillness. The sound filled the air, resonating throughout the entire room. The clock’s merciless ticking never ceased, which only added to the girl’s uneasiness.

Quietly she lay in bed, staring into the gray ceiling above. Something was different. She could feel it. An unsettling emotion filled her chest and her pale fingers tightly clutched the thin blanket covering her body.

A small window was her only view to the outside. She blankly stared, her dark eyes mesmerized by the gray sky quietly gazing back. It was desolate, devoid of any life. Not a cloud, not a bird, not even a star could be seen. Only a sea of gray emptiness was beyond the foggy glass. Was it day? Was it night? She couldn’t tell. Everything was colorless.

“It’s time for dinner.”

She tore her eyes away from the window to discover that the voice had come from a small boy standing in the doorway.  A faint light surrounded his silhouette, giving him an ethereal air. He didn’t seem familiar, yet she wasn’t surprised at his presence. His somber gray eyes bore into her face, lifeless and empty.

“Who are you?” she asked softly.

“Your brother,” he answered.

She furrowed her brow at the reply.

“I don’t have a brother,” she hesitantly said, the terrifying feeling of uncertainty crept into the pit of her stomach. She suddenly wasn’t so sure anymore. “At least, I don’t think I do,” she whispered.

“The others are waiting,” the boy suddenly said. A note of urgency could be heard in his voice. “Come.”

As if in a trance, she rose from the bed. Allowing the blanket to fall to the floor, she quietly stood and followed the mysterious boy.

Her white night gown skimmed across the tip of her toes, her feet silent as they walked along the wooden hallway. She searched her muddled mind as she tried to recover any memory, any tiny recollection of the boy that was before her, but she could not.

He was perhaps eight years old, dressed in a pair of tailored pants and white shirt. His neatly pressed vest was spotless, his combed hair perfectly in place. He looked just like a little doll.

Suddenly, she noticed another child at her side. The young girl must have just emerged from one of the many rooms in the hallway. She too remained silent as they wandered the hall, but unlike the boy this girl seemed much livelier. Her blue eyes held a small flicker of light and her golden curls bounced as she walked. The yellow ribbons in her hair matched her yellow dress, her bright clothing quite the contrast to their colorless surroundings. They were the first traces of color that she had seen.

A loud chime resounded down the hall and the boy quickened his pace. Little glass boxes suddenly began to appear along the walls, dozens of them, quietly hanging from their metal hooks and thin wires. She stopped, captivated by what was inside of the little casings.

 Butterflies filled the boxes. Colorful butterflies of all different colors and sizes. Their little bodies were pinned down by silver needles, their delicate wings on display like little ornaments.

"You poor things," she whispered.

She reached out a hand to run her fingers along one of the glass boxes that held an orange butterfly. The ends of its wings were outlined with black edges, as if they had been dipped in ink. 

“We’re late,” the boy said and she dropped her hand back to her side. “Sister gets angry if we are late.”

His words left no room for argument and she fell back in line behind him.

              They reached a giant wooden door, a soft light illuminating from the other side. The door was closed. They stopped and then a soft click sounded as the lock rotated.

The door creaked open and a dim light sliced across the floor and along their feet. They entered, discovering the magnificent dining room far from empty. A crystal chandelier hung from the high ceiling like a cluster of twinkling stars, casting its soft glow along a table. Its dark wooden form stretched the length of the room covered in plates of chicken and breads and sweets.  It was a banquet fit for the highest nobility and yet the entire scene seemed unsettling, as if lurking deep down below the façade of gentile atmosphere and luxurious air was something dark, something foul.

Hollow eyes watched them as they approached the table. The motionless forms of children were sitting in the velvet cushioned chairs. Their pale faces were like carved stone, almost ghostly as they stared at her. The boy and girl standing beside her took their seats. She remained standing.

White china painted with blue dancing rabbits and bears sat at every chair. The children were all neatly dressed in finely tailored vests and laced dresses. It was a feast for the finest, but the children remained frozen. The plates of food sat untouched.

She finally slipped into an empty seat. All the eyes of the strange children slowly turned from her to the last empty chair at the end of the table.

“Sister wants you to eat,” a plain girl with pigtails and a round face suddenly said. The candle light reflected in the thick lenses of her glasses.

 She obeyed, slowly picking up one of the many forks quietly lying next to her plate.

“Lily,” a voice suddenly whispered.

The fork tumbled from her hand, the metal utensil falling and hitting the ground without a sound. The soft whisper had come and gone like a faint wind, but she had heard it. She was sure of it, but it seemed that she was the only one who had heard it.

 Lily was her name. How could she have forgotten?

 She looked up to see all the children staring at her and a hot ember of rage blazed through Lily’s chest. Her brown eyes flashed with sizzling fury as she picked up her knife and drove the blade into the moist chicken on her plate.

 It screamed.

 The cry filled the room as warm blood poured from the seared meat. Lily jumped from her seat as she covered her ears from the horrifying sound. Her chair crashed to the ground and the room began to blur, the nameless faces twisting and melting together as her vision faded. A scream escaped her own lips as her body went limp, the gray world around her fading into blackness as her knees buckled.