{Story} Escape

There was once a little girl.

The little girl was given a little room, little more than four whitewashed walls. Being the cheerful kind, however, she transformed it into a little haven with the things she had, a space of her own. The walls were sea green and blue; the lampshades gaily-coloured, red and pink and yellow. She did not have much money, to spend on decoration of quality and consistency, but she managed with what she had. She was the creative kind, and her room soon became homey, all the decorations worn with use but carefully chosen.

However, inevitably, her room became a little cluttered with her things. And upon unpacking, she realized she had quite a few things, too. Sometimes, she ruefully wished she had a spell, something that would help her find her things when she wanted to. A little summoning spell, perhaps.

They watched her, and decided to let her have her fun for a bit. They frowned upon the mess, the colour, and above all, the cosiness. Coldness was what they were used to – sanitised was a concept they understood. Yet, they knew that letting her get her hopes up beforehand would lead to a much more emphatic conclusion. Perhaps it was fun for them – as far as they could understand that concept – perhaps it was just an experiment to them.

She would never know, even if she would wonder, later. Why? Why did they protest so against what she had? She knew it was not perfectly neat, but she liked the way things were, in her little room, her little haven. Yet, the first few times she had mentioned that it was only ‘organised chaos’, they had exploded with fury and anger. It was unthinkable.

She tried, but she never seemed to make them happy. She couldn’t know they were always watching her, and knew all about her valiant attempts to “tidy”, which inevitably led to hiding things for a semblance of order. Of course, this was far from acceptable.

It was around this time, when she was in depair, that she got something akin to a spell. Except, instead of summoning, it let her leave things in an alternate blackness. She tried it out – miraculously, it worked. But they were never happy – no matter how many things she displaced, they demanded that she pack more up.

First the lampshades; then the little adornments for the furniture; even the walls suffered their wrath. And as she put more things into the blackness, it brightened slightly, and she found she could climb in and out of it, as with a portal. She had never minded darkness in the first place; it was not scary for her, like it could be for others. So she started spending more time in her little hole.

Every time she exited, she felt bereft and despairing, because of the stark reality of the little room she was given, being strangled of life slowly yet surely.

In the end, only a tiny circle of trinkets was left, on her white desk. The bed was white; the walls were white. Hearing the recriminating screams in her head commanding her to tidy her room already, she sadly swept them into the hole…then climbed in after them, closing the portal forever.

When they found the little girl, they tsked and tutted at the mess she had left. Meticulously, they cleared the body, eliminating the mess.

There was once a little girl.