Waffles, eggs, and bacon; the perfect breakfast for any person, young or old. The kitchen radiates the scent of maple syrup, bacon grease, and the bittersweet fragrance of a berry medley emitted from a nearby candle. A clacking of fuzzy red slippers echo across the floor into the dining room.
“Waffles, yay!” A young child claps excitedly for his first meal of the day. A warm smile spread across the mother’s face as the feast was placed in front of him.
“Happy birthday, sweetie! 7 years old is an important age in our family, you know.” The mother bestowed a tender kiss on the bridge of the child’s nose before taking a seat of her own. She was practically a goddess; beautiful locks of golden thread for hair, alabaster skin, and a grin that could melt the North Pole.
“Why is being 7 so important, Mommy?” The child grins cheekily before stuffing his freckled face with bacon. Before the mother could respond, a man with a recently trimmed mustache sat across from the two in a mannerism that could only be explained as ‘dad’.
“Because, it is a tradition in our family to give you a special gift.” He nodded, then placed his hand on the child's head to ruffle curly locks similar to the mother’s. The father backed up the chair, making the wood creak slightly, before exiting the room. The child danced in his seat, which was induced by excitement and sugar from the maple syrup. Moments later, a father’s head peeked around the corner, bidding the child to shut his eyes. With a squeal, he eagerly did so. Unexpectedly, the squeal was mimicked by a small furball with eyes.
“Happy birthday, Chris. Her name is Bailey.” Chris opened his widening eyes and gasped in astonishment. A tiny bark chirped from an adorable golden retriever, with a pink frilly bow attached to her collar. As the young pup was handed towards Chris by the father, Bailey took a leap of faith into the child’s small, but loving arms. A slur of affection escaped Chris’ mouth as he looked with a shining guise towards his parents.
“This is the best birthday ever!” After a giggle or two from Chris, the wiggling puppy was gently set on the floor, who sniffed a bit before running into the other room, Chris following in glee. “I love you, Mom and Dad!” His words, of course, diminished as he ran farther away, deeper into the beautifully furnished home.
“We love you too, Chris,” the mother shouted before turning to her husband, exchanging a soft and affectionate kiss. His arms wrapped around her waist before he broke the kiss, looking back to see if the boy returned. The absence of the child spawned an exaggerated waggling of eyebrows as the father cocked his head towards another room. A mutual chuckle erupted in unison, as the man quickly scooped the woman up from the ground, running into a nearby room, somewhat opposite of the direction Bailey ran. Before the door to the room closed, one of the red slippers fell and plopped on the floor, lonely, but satisfied by the expression of love manifested by the couple. And so it was, a loving father, mother, and child with an exceptionally large and exquisite home that rested behind a vast and beautiful garden, filled with lilacs, roses, and other foliage to symbolize an organized plot of vegetation. All of these and more are the hopes and dreams of anybody, especially the young woman who somberly witnessed the perfect family.
From the safety of her room, she was able to have a view of the house on the other side of the street. Every Sunday morning, she would take a moment to herself to embrace the distance between herself and the wonderful world outside. Children, adults, and dogs would trickle along the sidewalks from time to time, a face full of content on each body. Naught but a desire to go for a walk floated through the young woman’s head. But, the breeze of summer would have to wait after her morning routine.
Casting the comfort of her blanket aside, she removed herself from the dawn of her mental escape and headed towards her closet. Inside was a vast treasure of all manner of clothing, ranging from band t-shirts to elegant dresses for the most formal of events. After looking a precarious amount, she grabbed a turquoise collared t-shirt and black yoga pants and headed to the bathroom for a shower. The heavenly water pouring out the faucet was an ecstasy unto itself. Each gentle stroke of the moisturized body wash sent tingles of rejuvenation throughout all of her nerves. A sudden pounding on the locked door made her jump and almost lose balance.
“Elise!” the muffled voice bellowed on the other side. “You’ve been in there for almost 20 minutes, some of us also have to bathe!” A frustrated Elise responded in the same manner.
“Okay, okay! I’ll be out in a minute, chill out!” Elise wiped the essence of body wash that mistakenly got in her eyes from prior astonishment. Once the roar of flowing water ceased, the distant sound of bickering rang. But, this was somehow all too familiar and she took her time drying her body off, adding moisturizer to her face, and putting a light amount of makeup on. Once her new clothes were donned, the old was tossed into the nearby hamper with a swish. “It’s just an average Sunday…ponytail it is.” Elise decided, and then put her past shoulder length raven black hair into a messy ponytail, the not-so-subtle strands that edged out of her hair tie didn’t need to be fixed. Not today.
Elise ran down the stairs with footwork as if it were Christmas morning. The smell of cigarettes and burnt toast didn’t phase her, but it ensured her perception of familial confrontation.
“There’s the resting bitch face!” A teenaged girl pointed towards Elise with a smirk. “Finally decided to leave your cave?”
“That’s enough, Tori!” The bitter voice was met with a pale woman with ruby lipstick and an ever-so-neat bun for hairdo. Her composure and timbre altered with a huff under her breath. “Elise, darling, did you sleep well?” As to not miss her queue, Elise perked up a bit.
“Slept as well as any other night, I suppose.” Elise shrugged, while idly peering past the evidence of a breakfast ruined beyond fixing. “Did the toaster crap out again?”
“I think it’s finally gone for good; I will have to go get a new one at the store sometime today.” A defeated groan seeped out of her grimace as she tossed the burnt toast into the nearby trash can. Elise pursed her lips while she began to peruse the kitchen for something to eat. Fresh apples, bananas, and grapes were lined in a crystal bowl that has lost its luster. An apple and the cereal from the cabinet in front of her would suffice.
“You know we are out of milk, right?” Tori’s voice rang out in that annoying sibling fashion. With a raised eyebrow, the fridge was then opened. Tori was correct; no more milk. Besides the door filled with condiments, there was only an array of leftovers in dull, chipped plastic Tupperware that were certainly spoiled.
“Sounds like we’ll have to get some milk, Mom.” Elise still remained unphased by the unkempt fridge, a complete opposite appeal in comparison with the mother’s casual sense of fashion. Elise turned her head to see her mother in a contrapposto stance, arms crossed?
“ ‘We’? Do you mean you actually want to go to the store with your dear old mother?” A seemingly passive aggressive comment was but a jest between mutual company.
“You’re not that old, Mom.” Elise giggled with her lips flattened. “Gosh, I wouldn’t think you were over 30.” She mimicked the mother’s stature, but otherwise rested her lower back on the counter edge.
“Oh, Elise,” She teased, clutching her chest to indicate the acceptance of a compliment. “You really think so?” A moment of silence ensued as both parties drew their eyes towards Tori in unison, and a smirk to boot. Tori’s irritated expression confirmed the displeasure of an ongoing inside joke.
“Man, Elise, you’re such a kiss-ass…” Tori rolled her eyes, finishing a banana and tossing the peel into the garbage. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go into the bathroom and throw up.” The sarcasm was clear in her voice; bulimia was never in the cards for Tori despite her slender figure. She ran up the stairs in a pounding fashion that was clearly trying to obtain attention. Elise simply shrugged as the mother continued the conversation.
“So, when are we going?” Elise chomped her apple as quietly as she could.
“We can leave soon, I just have to wait for Jake to return the car. He should be home any minute.” The mother turned to wash the dishes, some of which have been left in the sink for days. The amber color of maple syrup looked as if it were part of the plates themselves. Fortunately, the harsh reality of steel wool is enough to bear the sacrifice of the same viscosity.
“Is Jake ever going to get his own car?” The acuity of Elise’s darting tongue showed promise as if to inflict a non corporeal wound, although an attempt to leave her mother out of the blame. But, this only caused her to raise her voice.
“Elise, that’s not fair! He comes from a rough background and you are well aware of that!” She began to scrub the dishes harder, Elise catching a glimpse of the food debris coming off as products of a wood shredder. “So, watch your damn mouth!” The touch subject brought Elise to purse her lips without another word. Just as the last dish was proclaimed squeaky clean, the front door opened a couple inches with a prolonged screech caused by weakened hinges.
“Hey Lily, can I get some help out here?” A middle-aged gruff voice seeped into the kitchen, which was followed by a loud slamming of a car door.
“Speak of the devil…” Tori crept up, donned with a black tank top and skirt with chains. Her now-kept raven-colored hair in a double Dutch braid complimented her grunge attire. She was pale enough to be considered sickly, but her face without any blemishes was smooth enough to indicate otherwise.
The exchange of looks between Lily and Tori was the stereotypical feud between a strict mother with a rebellious adolescent. Glare against glare, blue eyes against blue eyes, the situation was unnerving for any person outside of the familiarity of this sequence. At this moment, Elise could practically see the burning in her family members’ eyes, the kindled flame slowly rushing into a wildfire. Luckily, a final heavy metallic slam of another car door extinguished the danger.
“Lily, babe, are you coming or not?” Jake’s voice was loud enough to leak through the closed door, probably enough for an old grumpy neighbor to call the cops. A shove incorporated the movement of Elise and Tori to head out the door, Lily following closely behind.
An old dusty navy truck was laid in the parking lot. The sheer dullness of the vehicle matched the age of the house, but contrasted against the way Elise, Tori, and Lily were dressed. In the back of the truck stood a hardened man with a steel-gray beard, strikingly handsome even in clothes that were covered in stains from previous bouts of paint and oil. His defined muscles and toned physique would put the toughest of lumberjacks to shame. After hunching over to pick up a cardboard box filled with clutter, his eyes met the others.
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"Well, are all of you going to stand there or help out?” If there wasn’t a smirk underneath his facial hair, the tone of his voice would have invoked a sense of aggression instead of a jab at dry humor.
“Yes, we are.” Lily replied. Not a shove, but two pats on each of the daughters’ shoulders commenced the process of unloading the vehicle. A mountain of junk was piled into tough cardboard boxes. Scrap metal, different sizes of wooden planks, tool bits, and a mound of flayed cords were only the top of the stockpile that were toppling out of each box.
“Another project, Jake? Haven’t you had too many to work on already?” Elise snickered, reaching her arms out for Jake to pass one of the boxes from out of the truck.
“Oh the mouth on this one huh, Lily?” Jake laughed heartily as he handed down the first load. “With an attitude like that, it is hard to mistake that she is in fact your daughter.” This jest made Lily blush in a gleeful fashion.
“Another snarky remark like that, and you’re going to be spending the night on the couch.” Lily approached the bed of the truck, hopping in to give Jake a smooch, one of which made Tori roll her eyes and gag.
“Ugh, Mom! Stop being gross and hand me a box so we can hurry up and get this done.” Tori motioned her hands for an intention to receive her first box. A shrug of Jake’s shoulders raised, faking obliviousness. As he and Lily handed down the rest, box by box, the job was done in just a matter of minutes.
Jake led the way to the garage. With the aroma of rust and a mild mold, the garage was rather large given the size of the rest of the house connected to it. Of course, the two areas for cars to dwell were blocked by several large wooden tables for tools and material parts to lay. Empty beer bottles, old tires, and small oil spills littered the place.
As Jake began to stack the boxes next to the table, the others followed. Fairly soon, the final product looked like the remnants of a garage sale, parts that sold for an exceptionally low price for not being wanted.
“So, where the hell did you get all of this?” Tori grumbled with gritted teeth, trying to be as subtle as she could. However, she was soon scolded by Lily for her choice of language. On behalf of Tori, Lily apologized for her behavior. Jake brushed it off without a fuss.
“One of my old jobs shut down and was planning on getting rid of excess parts located on the premises to make way for the new company. I hopped on the opportunity as soon as I heard. There’s enough parts here to finish several of my first projects, so that will lighten the load. That’s what you wanted anyways, right Elise?” Yet another humorous jab that Elise resisted with just a breathy affirmation and a grin.
The task was complete, therefore the garage was shut for the time being. Jake bid the rest a momentary farewell as he organized his new treasures within his workshop. A final kiss from Lily, an eye roll from Tori, and a grin from Elise were given on the way out. But as Elise was watching the electronic garage door close, Jake’s friendly waving ceased and she could have sworn a menacing glare was thrown her direction as the final thud from the door slid into the concrete crevice.
Time passed so slowly on the way back into the house. An ill feeling from within Elise’s core began to spread. Jake’s final reply began to float within Elise’s mind: “That’s what you wanted anyways, right Elise? A rush of uneasiness and the feeling of being dumbfounded extended from the blood vessels to each nerve in her body. As Elise shut the door, Lily was right there with her arms crossed and a concerned expression.
“Elise, what’s wrong? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.” Elise bobbed her head up and down in affirmation, but a mother’s intuition is never wrong. Lily’s outstretched arms caused Elise to run into her embrace, face in her bosom with a whimpering cry.
“Mom, I think it’s happening again.” Elise was so quiet, between a whisper and pure silence. The tears formed two small spots on her mother’s shirt, connecting as subsequent drops trickled down the bridge of her nose. The repetition of the phrase, now becoming antagonistic towards the psyche, began to personify as Elise’s eyes were pressed into Lily.
Within the crypt of her vision, a torrent of noncorporeal material presented in a human form, roughly resembling Jake if he was one with the void. Elise, all alone in her mind, had nowhere to run. Her mother was gone and Tori was nowhere to be seen. Not even the solace of her own home were in any of her peripherals. The figure began to hover closer and closer to Elise. As it drew near, the holes where there were supposed to be eyes began to leak a crimson viscous fluid.
“Mama’s perfect daughter,” the specter cackled. “Always complaining, always neglecting chores. It’s no wonder your family is falling apart.” After one more malevolent croak, the ominous creature began to melt slowly into the ground, disappearing into the darkness.
In the blink of an eye, Elise found herself back in her home, her room in fact. The birds were chirping and the gorgeous sunlight shone through the window, warming the covers she was laying on. Looking around the room, it appears to be neater than normal. In fact, the room was tidied up so much that the floor looked bigger than the ceiling and walls combined.
“Elise! Elise, come down; we’re ready!” A man shouted from downstairs. Elise left the sunlit bed and turned down the hallway right above the head of the stairs. The first thing she could see was a young child with black hair chasing a golden retriever around, squealing with joy. Next to them was a woman with her arm around a man.
“There you are!” The man shouted, bringing the woman closer to him. “Are you ready to go to the park?”
“...Dad?” Elise’s eyes widened, lip quivering along. She stretched forth her arms, running towards the man for a hug. But after several steps, the atmosphere turned into a dark voice again, no child or dog, only man and woman. More steps were taken; the man seemed to be getting farther and farther away, although looking as if he were standing perfectly still. When Elise stopped in her tracks, the man didn’t move.
“Aren’t you going to give me that hug? Come here!” The woman left his side to walk away, as the man crouched down, arms reaching out for the same embrace. Try as she might, the harder she ran, the farther the way the man drifted.
“Dad! Stop! Where are you going?” Elise hollered, breathing harder, running faster but still the distance spread farther and farther apart. The echoes of her screams faded into the darkness, the man and woman included. The chilling silence was unbearable, only the pounding in her chest to keep her company. A return of the echoing was imbued by her mother, growing less unintelligible and louder until a normal speaking tone.
“Sweetheart, are you okay?” Lily inquired sweetly. In a flash, Elise was yet again present in the embrace of her mother. A soft patting on the back and rocking side to side commenced, soon quelling Elise’s fear. “Elise? Elise, talk to me.”
“I’m fine, Mom. I just…had a moment. I guess that working out in the sun drew a number on me.” Elise returned to her normal self, eyes shining from many tears past. “I think I’m going to head upstairs and draw.”
“That sounds like a wonderful idea. I can go to the store by myself; don’t worry.” Lily kissed Elise on the forehead and let go of her. A glance of distorted content was displayed, still processing the recent emotional rollercoaster.
To some, drawing is a way to pass time or express oneself. But for Elise, it was everything. Piles upon piles of papers ranging from scribbles to elaborate sketches rested in multiple folders inside of a drawer she proclaimed to be her ‘treasure chest’. Elise handpicked the first folder on the left, which contained her very first drawings; ones from the humble beginnings of preschool.
On a sheet of manila paper, there were decadent lines of assorted colors that did not seem to represent an entity or object. “I don’t really remember this one,” Elise pondered, clicking her lips. The next picture she could remember fondly. It was a rough etching of a young Elise and members of her family. In the mind of a child, any living creature needs to have a happy face. A few portraits later, however, a stick figure drawing of Elise contained a frown. She was drawn sitting on her bed, facing another figure who looked similar to Elise, but had larger black eyes and a crooked smile.
“Thirteen years ago,” Elise mumbled out loud. The next few drawings interpreted different settings of Elise’s early years. Playing soccer with friends, eating pizza at a birthday party; each a different point in time, but the figure still remained. The next page was not a picture, but a note. Although just a single sheet of composition paper, the entire page was plastered in text.
To the parents and/or guardians of Elise Lancaster,
Your child has been incredibly disruptive in my class. She has been harassing her fellow classmates on a daily basis, to which she claims an ‘imaginary friend’ told her to do so. Just yesterday, she drew over a classmate’s paper and added her own ‘rendition’ to the picture. This included adding a stick figure in the background carrying a pair of scissors, saying, and I quote, ‘you will love this new haircut’ followed by the classmate’s name. This is kept confidential to protect the identity of the designated party, although I am sure Elise will tell you regardless. Luckily, this issue was stopped before it could escalate. If this behavior does not stop, Elise will be forced to enroll into an alternate institution for her future education. In my professional opinion, I suggest she seek psychological counsel.
Regards,
-Miss Golden
First grade. That was the year Elise’s fixation became more than just a simple issue. Her parents were more than willing to take her to a local psychiatrist. Because of the relatively small town, there were not too many options for a mental healthcare provider. However, Elise’s parents wanted a consult at least to help themselves cope with their daughter’s behavior.
The consult took roughly an hour, with a vast series of questions ranging from daily habits to violent ideations. Dr. Warren, the psychiatrist, was a man of sophisticated taste and great knowledge of the mind. After a series of evaluations, he diagnosed Elise with an unspecified form of schizophrenia. An antipsychotic was prescribed with routine blood work as the first line of treatment, with both individual and group therapy as supplementation.
The young Elise, of course, had no idea what this mental illness entailed as she was far too young to comprehend the expanse of which is the human mind. But in turn, her parents were struck with an unanticipated grief. Day in and day out, they were adherent to the medication regimen, even against Elise’s best interests. Once the school was aware of the situation, Elise was given accommodations for recess and any free time in school, to be by herself in a classroom. This is where she began to weave her own world, a place where only she could escape to.
It began with a tree; a lonely tree in the middle of a single piece of white construction paper. All by itself, the tree began to weep, and there was nobody to hear their cry. That was until another called out, this time a mountain. In the distance behind the tree, a massive summit would smile at the tree, offering words of comfort. Although two very different entities, the tree was consoled which brought life into the land. More trees and vegetation, flowers, fruits, bushes, birds, squirrels, and many other small creatures.
The small turned into large, and the large turned to massive. Eventually, there were dragons soaring in the skies, and the great beasts in the ocean would belt their dreadful undertones. But, a paradise can only last until humans paved their way into the world. Civilizations were built by the sacrifice of beasts and other humans. Society was created, and war raged between unruly neighbors.
There was no peace, but along the sketching of Elise’s new world, a utopia there would be. Villages welcomed each other into their homes and countries let their neighbors thrive in their lands. The beasts of land, sea, and air carried among their respective divisions, and a tune of harmony rang one final time. The land of Rosewood Mountain became one in the same.
The loneliness that dwelt within Elise always dissipated when she daydreamed of Rosewood Mountain; a happy place to rest from her fears and infirmities. Her first journey landed her in the midst of town, where all villagers knew her by name. They would treat her as one of their own, although comparably less than royalty and nobles under the crown. Yet, she would still visit from time to time whenever the vision would arise at random frequencies, typically around times of great stress.
“Elise, honey! Dinner’s ready; are you coming?” Lily’s voice rang from downstairs through the solid oak floor. In a response, Elise leaned down toward the floor, cupping her hands over her mouth to amplify her tone.
“Yes, just cleaning up! I’ll be there soon!” The response was childish in nature, sure, but the science behind sound traveling through solids proved effective. She stood up to return to her drawings only to remain true to her word and put them away. But before the drawer hid her memories out of sight, an image of the apparition, her accounted ‘imaginary friend’, let itself be known.