Ellie was at the dinner table, quiet as a mouse, while her mother prepared her plate; what was left of her at least.
Her mother worked silently, and Ellie made sure to keep her head down, not speaking unless spoken to.
It was chicken and vegetables tonight.
It was chicken and vegetables every night.
They never ate anything different.
Never tried different, it was all the same.
Ellie couldn't complain.
She could see the sunken eyes that once exuberated life. The limped gait that used to dance freely through these halls.
The frail fingers that ran through Ellie's hair.
Her eyes fixated on the rotting wood of their dining room table, grain splitting at certain edges.
Their house used to be a wreck. Spiders renovated the corners, dust mites terrorized their sinuses; Ellie took it upon herself to try cleaning, a rough effort in the beginning, she didn't know how to clean.
The table in front of her was evident she didn't know to dry water from wood, not then, at least.
A plate was placed in front of Ellie, causing her to flinch. She had spaced out, failing to notice her mother approaching, again.
Ellie paced her fork well, too fast and her mother would be offended, claiming she was avoiding spending time with her. However, too slow, and Ellie was accused of playing over her food.
It was strict, but Ellie learned to get by.
"When we're done eating," her mother started without looking up from her bowl, "bring me your book and I'll put it back on the shelf until tonight."
Ellie froze.
The realization that she had given it away only just now settled in.
Her mind wandered to her sitting on the park bench, just a few hours ago.
"Okay Ellie, I have to take this phone call, I'll be right back, just wait here."
Without waiting for a response, her mother wandered off with a phone up to her ear, discussing who knows what.
The park was quiet, and today, her mother's disposition was much better than normal.
They didn't usually come out to the park, but moved with a little more grace than a typical day.
As if she wasn't burdened by the weight of existing.
The trees swayed hypnotically, pulling Ellie from the bench and into a slow walk through the park.
Ellie walked with her book clasped across her chest, as she reminicized on the days she would play with her mother here, before the monster came.
The trees were a green blanket flowing beautifully above her, shielding her from the troubles of the world; she was at peace.
Just as she began singing a lullaby her mother always sang, her thoughts were interrupted by sobbing.
Across the park, there was a man under a tree.
He was outfitted in a lab coat, with short dark hair that resembled a raven's plumage. Besides the bit of belly he had, the man looked relatively young and healthy, in a smoker sort of way.
Ellie couldn't tell what was ailing him, but he was struggling to breathe, his chest seemingly bench pressing the surrounding air.
Approaching slowly, she sought a better look at his condition.
His eyes were a beautiful grey, colorless, with an undertone of life; a color that was currently marred by tears streaming down his face.
Ellie knew all too well what was wrong. She found herself in that same position when it seemed as if the world was determined to break her.
Her mother used to behave the same way, shortly after Ellie's father passed. That was when the monster got her, refusing to let her go even now.
There was a feeling, a whisper in the wind, that told Ellie; if she let the monster get this man too, the world would be filled with endless sorrow.
"Hey Mr..."
-----
"Ellie!"
Jarred to attention, Ellie's eyes focused on her mother, sitting across from the table, visibly irritated.
"Ellie what are you spacing out for, I told you to do something."
Her face paled. Ellie's mom did not appreciate having to repeat herself several times, something Ellie made a point to avoid happening for a long time now; it wasn't like her to trip up like this.
"I'm sorry mom, what was your question?"
Seeing her mother's face contort in annoyance nearly took all of the breath out of Ellie. She was hoping she had built up enough leeway to get away this one time, apparently not.
"I told you to give me your book so I can put it back on the shelf. I'm trying to help you keep the stupid thing clean and you're not even listening; you don't appreciate anything I do."
Ellie winced.
Those were the magic words.
The blade used to defeat her in any battle.
"No, I do, I just didn't hear you, I'm sorry."
Ellie knew she appreciated her mother, even did a lot to show it, her statement was false at best. But nothing would ever allow her to let her mother believe she didn't.
Apologies and reassurance were the only thing she could offer.
Ellie was the last support her mother had.
If she fell out from beneath her, what would keep the monster at bay.
That was why, these next few words were going to hurt getting out.
"I don't have the book. I gave it away... to the man in the park."
The color drained from her mother's face, the pale expression switched owners now.
"That was your father's book."
Ellie looked at her hands, burying them into her lap, she couldn't meet her mother's gaze.
"I know," her voice cracked."
"It was first one he ever completed, and the only copy in existence."
"I know."
Ellie's voice escaped as little more than a whisper.
"Why?"
A question grounded in disbelief.
Although she knew her mother was more in shock than actually wanting an explanation, Ellie attempted anyway.
"It was just a feeling. I could hear it mom, in the wind, I was supposed to give it to him. You know I wouldn't just give..."
"I don't wish to have this conversation anymore," she said, rising from her chair.
"Mom," Ellie called out, but her mother was already limping out of the room.
Tears swelled in her eyes.
"I'm sorry Dad."