𝒑𝒆𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒓 ᖭི༏ᖫྀ 𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚖𝚜

chapter sixteen : birthday

[XIV]

"IT'S MAY THIRTIETH tomorrow?"

Honestly, I had lost complete track of time at this point. I knew Ellie and I had met in early April, were in the woods through April into May, but I hadn't realised it was almost the end of spring.

Ellie looked at me wide eyed, with an impressed smirk on her face.
"I didn't know you remembered the day..."

"Duh, when you told me your star sign I knew I'd remember. I'm good with dates. Usually..."

I grimaced as I noted my apparent loss of time. I couldn't believe it had already been three months since...

"...follow the light."

It flew back in my memory as I recalled Abby. It seemed she had been in my dreams, though they felt hazy and distant now, and she had said it, I was sure. I didn't know what it meant but, I didn't want to forget again, so I scribbled the phrase in my little notepad with all my doodles from the past months.

"Whatcha drawing now, Picasso?" Ellie asked, craning her neck over to look into my notepad. I flipped the book shut abruptly.

"Nuh-uh. If I don't get to see your writing, you don't get to see my drawings. No way."

She huffed indignantly, flopping back down to the blanket pile. Her childish slump, however, soon morphed into a sad frown. She started to play with a bit of her hair, one hand under her head as she stared thoughtfully at the ceiling. Noticing her newfound solemnity, I laid down next to her- not too close, mind, but, enough to keep her company.

"This'll be the first birthday...in six years..."

Without him, I thought.

I knew that's what she wanted to say, but I could understand how hard it could be talking about someone who was long gone. Or worse, in Ellie's case, not that long at all.

I rolled on my side to face her, hands tucked up under my cheek as I stared. She had these wonderful green eyes, like the lush forest had followed us and kept safe in her verdant gaze. But when they were filled with pain like this, part of me wished I could just wash them away. When she was angry, it was like looking at poison. And when she was sad, well, it was like I could see the grass blades growing over his grave when I looked at her. That turf was in her gaze now, as if reflected in her pupils was the headstone itself, black and endless, a void that reflected the one inside of her.

And I knew how she felt. The void was in my eyes and heart too.

The void when you lose someone you love is very similar to those wooden kids toys, with the holes and shapes. If that gap is star shaped, and you lose your star block, nothing else can fill it. You can try and shove a square in there, and part of it might squeeze in, but it will never really fit. In that way, I guess, Ellie and I had both lost our stars.

"Joel would have wanted you to have a good twentieth birthday, Ellie," I started. She rolled over to face me as I spoke, so now we were just two people staring into each other, clawing for reason and hope and answers and redemption, and I found solace in her. I did.

Her look did things to my stomach that I dared not admit until now. It was like all the little purple emperor butterflies from my mother's picture book had fluttered from my words to my stomach, and now shimmered in there with the effervescence of a thousand pearls. It was exhilarating, but I didn't feel nauseous or even nervous. It was like nothing I had every felt before, not even with Abby.

God, it was agony and beauty and bliss rolled into one tantalising look and my mind must have possessed me because, for a moment, I reached for her face. She grabbed it before I could touch her cheek, but gently, and laid it down on the floor, palm still folded over it.