Glass

When I woke, I kept my body absolutely frozen, staring up at the world around me with sheer disappointment. I couldn't even remember the last time I had moved, until my mind flickered back to what had happened.

What had happened. 

Markus, his breath reeking of alcohol, his eyes crazed with such intensity and insanity I felt my heart seize up in surprise. Terror shook straight through my bones, making my eyes widen in pure shock and horror until I felt my entire body being scorched with pain.

But I couldn't even move. Couldn't blink, couldn't think. 

It was the most vulnerable, most pathetic I have ever felt in my life. Being stuck in time, absolutely petrified as someone pressed flames into my heart over and over again. I had burns, all right. Both mentally and physically. But I don't think that Markus really even cared.

Of course he wouldn't. 

He'd left me on the floor with blood covering my arm. I could already feel the pain escaping through the open wound, my skin getting covered in a layer of water as I writhed alone. My eyes were watering with the ridiculous amount of pain everything brought, but I still couldn't move. It was like my mind was protecting me from it all--as if moving would bring out even more pain. My own head was trying to do something, at least, to help alleviate it all. And perhaps by not moving, that was it's way of telling me to just stop.

My eyes closed as I succumbed to the flow of sudden exhaustion crashing through my mind.

~~~

In the midst of all that chaos, I had somehow managed to drag my battered self back to that guest bedroom. I had stumbled over the steps clumsily and just barely made it to the bed and immediately collapsed onto it.

It was where I stayed for two days straight.

I took the mentality my mind had given me by not moving in the slightest. If I move now, it'll still hurt.

But of course, I still knew that wasn't true. By now, I hadn't eaten or drank anything in two days, and sleep had completely eluded me. My eyes were stuck open, my arms sore with the pressure of staying still so long. My neck stabbed with pain every other second, frozen in the position I had given it. And I strained all the muscles in my body, all the thoughts in my brain, just to keep still.

It was nearly like a defense mechanism, except I don't think those are as destructive as they should be. I don't think those should keep you awake, barely blinking. I don't think that they are so crude and odd.

Maybe, just maybe, keeping still was the last thing I could hold on to.

It's pathetic.

~~~

The front door had slammed sometime on Monday morning, snapping me out of my reverie. Markus had left. 

I immediately attempted to move my arms, only giving me a very stiff pain as I tried to move my limbs. My body screamed at me as I sat up, the comforter beneath me hot with the heat of the sun and my eyes attempting to adjust to my new surroundings. What a fool Markus has made me...

Struggling my way downstairs, the half-assed bandage on my arm almost slipping off, I flopped onto the couch as I tried getting the feeling back in my soul. My eyes fluttered shut from not sleeping for so long. I think that I had gone numb to the hunger... but I wasn't sure.

I meandered to the kitchen, looking for something edible, but in vain. Markus seemed to have taken all the food out of the house (and put it where?) most likely for the rest of my so-called punishment. Starvation was extreme, but it wasn't like it hadn't happened before or that I wasn't expecting it. Markus was extreme in every way possible.

Nothing was left in the fridge, nothing in the freezer. At this point, I might as well just keel over. I thought that I would find something in the cabinets around the kitchen, but to no avail. Had he really just taken everything from me? So that I couldn't even eat anything anymore? Was he really just trying to kill me?

I wouldn't be surprised.

I stared at the floor for what seemed like hours until I decided to at least drink something.

The moment the chilled water touched my lips, I immediately gulped it down and jammed the glass under the faucet just to get some more. If I was this desperate for water now, how bad would I be when I actually ate something?

The food I had nowadays was usually tasteless, without texture. Markus often complimented me on being a "good girlfriend" and an actual cook, but I couldn't tell the difference. I think... I had lost taste long ago. When I lost my hope along with it.

What was I even supposed to do now?

After a while, I decided to work on my stillness skills. Maybe if I got good enough at being completely still, I wouldn't get hurt. 

I contemplated that for a moment before settling on the floor, my body curled into the fetal position as my eyes slipped shut. The tiles were chilly and dirty; I hadn't cleaned in a long while now. I could only keep my eyes closed for a few seconds before the sound of the doorbell made them shoot open.

God, I shouldn't even bother to answer the door anymore...

I dragged my injured body to the door, my muscles aching with the pressure. I was beginning to hate almost every moment I moved, and I used my good arm to pull the door open cautiously.

Liam.

Those freaky pink tufts of hair seemed to be flying up and down as he spoke. "Hey, Ramona. I got your letter."

I stiffened, staring at him like he might pounce at any second. But really, who was I to talk? I was the one that probably looked like a deranged wild animal. I am, really... out in the woods alone, dirty and battered. 

"And I was just thinking... you said that you were busy, right?" I barely shook out a nod before he continued, "So I thought that I would just come to you. Is that... alright with you? I won't be burden?"

A person. A real person. A person, a real person was at the door, asking to come in, to spend time with their neighbor. A real person, who looked genuine and kind, was asking something that their neighbor could hardly hear. A real person was asking their neighbor, who was just barely alive anymore, if they could talk to them.

You don't deserve such a blessing.

'I know.'

Gah, of course you know. Aren't you just so smart? So goddamn talented?

'I never have been. I never will be. You know that, so don't be silly.'

Are you going to even try to live like this anymore? Alone, desperate, gasping for freedom, for the sun and air?

'If I don't deserve the blessing that is a real person, then I deserve to be alone here. Gasping for freedom, for the sun. I am that person.'

"Of course, come in." I was surprised at even my own words. Determined not to let that show, I ushered him inside before closing the door gently and opening my mouth to speak again before realizing I had nothing to say. Why the hell had I invited him inside? I should've just shut the door, shut the chance of hope out.

You don't deserve him.

I ended up bringing him to the kitchen, motioning for him to sit down. What was I going to talk to him about? Was I going to have to entertain? He answered that question before I could even blink:

"Hey, I know I might sound like a pain, but... would you mind making something to eat? I know that I'm being crude and sudden, but I don't really have anything to eat over there, and I've been working all day in that heat..."

Liam gave a nervous smile, his eyes crinkling as he did. I attempted to respond immediately, shocked that he'd even asked, though. I stared at him for a few seconds before eventually giving some sort of garbled answer:

"Oh... sure. You can stay..." My feet stuck to the floor as I gave him an awkward smile, which simply looked off-put and weird, I bet. But I don't know if Liam noticed, because he was busy breaking out into a huge grin once more. It kind of brightened the room, giving it this newfound light that I couldn't quite identify. I hadn't seen it before. 

I opened the fridge before realizing my recent discovery: there was nothing in the fridge except some lemons and milk. You couldn't exactly make a meal out of that. I sighed heavily, closing my eyes out of annoyance and exhaustion. That damned Markus.

Liam was staring deeply into my eyes when I turned to face him, that bright emerald green looking dulled. Say something, anything. Anything to make him think that you're even the slightest bit normal.

But I'm not. At all.

"Um..." was all I could manage under the circumstances. I don't believe there's a way to tell your neighbor who came over for an impromptu visit that you really don't have anything to eat because someone named Markus is trying to starve you for a punishment. But at that moment, from the corner of my eye, I caught the sight of bright yellow once more.

Lemons.

It clicked in my head. Lemons+heat wave+neighbor visit=lemonade.

Incredibly proud of my (very scientific) calculations, I whipped the lemons out of the fridge and slammed the door with my foot somewhat gracefully. Pulling a knife gently from its holder and sliding it onto the counter along with the lemons, I felt myself actually feeling excited. I was going to make something for someone new, going to do something worth an actual amount. Maybe, I too, would actually be worth something...?

Of course not. How are you getting so worked up over one thing. You idiot.

My smile slipped away slowly, realization setting in: how the hell was I supposed to do anything in this social situation? What do you do with the person? How do you even talk to them? I knew nothing, never had known anything. Perhaps I lost all my knowledge of anything social whatsoever when I moved here, to this shithole.

I stopped moving once I picked the knife up, the blade just barely slicing into my fingertips as I held it more and more tightly. Frustration seeped through my bones, coming out in a fitful sort of eye twitch that I couldn't control. 

Liam noticed this, of course.

"Are you alright?" His voice sounded concerned, like he actually cared. As if he would. You're worth nothing. I didn't move a muscle, completely petrified as I heard his chair squeak. He was standing up, moving. Coming over to me silently, his figure now next to me with a slight air of elegance. 

"Look, you're bleeding," I just barely stared down at my good hand, now dripping a solid stream of blood onto the counter, "does it hurt?"

Haha, I had no idea. I was in such pain lately that I couldn't even feel a knife cutting me. That should tell you something about my living conditions.

"No." I managed to move my stiffened shoulders into a shrugging position. Liam still stood there, watching intently. I wondered what he was thinking about. The types of things that guy probably thought about most likely be things I couldn't even begin to comprehend. But seeing him there, staring up at me with those piercing eyes of his, something shot through me like a bullet, heating up my insides with a sort of intensity that made my eyes widen. I felt my face start burning with embarrassment as I turned to face him.

He spoke before I could get a word out. "Do you want some help?"

Ah, yes. I also had no idea how to make lemonade.

I nodded furiously in tune with my flushing face, quickly turning back to the counter and pulling a cutting board off the wall. 

And we spent a couple of hours just... casually.

It was the weirdest thing I had ever done--or maybe that was only because I'd been alone so long. We poured sugar, mixed everything together. Dumped a few ice cubes into a pitcher. I chatted with him quietly, nervously, barely saying anything after he spoke. I was just sitting there with my eyes closed, relishing in the sound of someone else's voice.

I felt so old, so terrified, so vulnerable. I had starving, thirsty, beyond exhausted. But yet here I was, listening to the sound of a stranger's voice. Listening to how it sounded like a song, how it changed dynamics and tempos. I observed and heard it all, just listening for the changes in that music. The music that is someone else's company, that is their voice.

Liam's song was a lovely soprano.

~~~

It was near the end of it all when he snapped me out of my delirious sort of hope that I had entered. He stared at me poignantly, fixed. Like he was trying to figure something out about me with those beautifully piercing eyes of his. I got the sense that he wanted something, but didn't dare ask.

"What happened to your hand?"

Ah, yes. The hand that my boyfriend scorched off. Sorry, I forgot.

I comprehended those words for only a moment before yanking it behind my body, along with my other hand. "Um... I got into an accident the other day."

Oh sure, what an "accident" that was. You idiot, why are you still lying?

HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN EVERYTHING I'VE TAUGHT YOU?

Liam only eyed me suspiciously for a moment before thanking me very quickly and whisking himself out the door.

What just happened...?

~~~

When Markus arrived home that night, I made no effort to even look at him. I hadn't eaten in three days--well, except for some lemonade, but I don't think that even counts. 

Markus didn't say a word, silently setting down his briefcase and promptly slumping into the chair across from me at the dining table. Nothing to eat, nothing to make for dinner tonight. All I had at the table was a vase of withering lilies.

They looked like me.

He only bored his eyes into mine for a moment. Not a word escaped his mouth before his dark eyes slipped shut, shadowed by exhaustion as he rubbed his temples. He looked... upset at something. But what?

His eyes narrowed at me when they finally opened again, my gaze defiant as I stared right back at him. But when he spoke, the tension of it all shattered into a thousand pieces, taking my heart and flesh right with it.

"You look... thin."

And then he just walked away.

~~~

The lights inside the bathroom flickered awkwardly when I flipped the light switch, shutting the door behind me somewhat loudly. Why had Markus said that?

I think, now, I needed to face what awaited me in the mirror. My reflection. Seeing what I looked like--no, rather,--seeing what I had become. Seeing what monster awaited me on the other side, staring at me with sunken eyes and a shallow heart.

I am that monster.

You shouldn't be doing this, you know. You'll only be disappointed.

'Yes. I know that.'

And yet you'll still try to look? Try to look for what you used to be, not what you look like now? And what if you're just horrified by the image?

'I don't know the answer to that, friend.'

What if the thing you see as your reflection is so terrifying, so awful, so evil... that it needs to be... eradicated?

'Then that person on the other side would just have to deal with the consequences.'

What consequences? And how?

'I don't know.'

Hah, and you think you're actually smart. But in truth, you're not very clever, are you? You're just going to blindly stare at yourself, accept what you've become after two years of not bothering to know?

'Yes.'

Of course you will.

Outside, I heard Markus stumbling around in the dark bedroom, probably groping around for something in the pitch black. I heard him nearly trip and fall, just barely catching himself on the side of the bed. Isn't he the same man, the same man that did this to me? That burned the skin off my left hand? That tore it up beyond recognition?

He's a fool, that Markus. He doesn't regret anything, does he?

I shivered slightly in the dense air of the room, just barely managing to put one step in front of the other. The mirror, right next to the shower, looked like it was miles away. I had always avoided staring at myself, always looked away. I didn't want to see this person I was. I didn't want to see the person that had been fooled so easily by Markus.

My eyes shuddered shut in the light of the bathroom, my feet stopping slowly in front of the mirror. My bare, calloused feet didn't feel the chilled touch of the tiles, but instead of the heat of the embarrassment I felt that I was about to face. 

And then... I opened them. 

Before me was a sunken, ragged silhouette of a human being, collarbone and ribs jutting out sharply. The creature's face was thin and slightly smeared with dirt in some areas. It's eyes were bloodshot and heavily bagged with trauma and terror. You could hardly see the usual chocolate brown that they had been, but instead they were replaced with an inky black.

No, this isn't a creature. This is just me. Me, after spending years alone. Not eating, not drinking. Not sleeping right. Markus wasn't the fool. I was.

And for my grand finale, grand unveiling of how horrifying I truly looked: A single tear ran down my stricken face.

It gave some light into my eyes, that tear.

Author's Note

Hey what's up babes
ANYWAY
I finished in class, lol. Will post now

ALSO: check out my online diary--it says how my day to day life is and what the progress on the story is.

Link: https://www.my-diary.org/read/e/546027434/first-post-(prompt-#1)#blue