MABEL
The announcement curled back over her ears, and she straightened out immediately – as if she’d been very, very lost somewhere. Gone under the current again, perhaps, to drift in and out for eternities. Into memories and webs and lines. Into weed and doldrums. She didn’t know where she wanted to be – couldn’t pick and choose, wasn’t certain, wasn’t sure. She’d come back for Evelyn, and that was all.
Without her twin, there wasn’t anything left.
Her eyes went to him, arching a brow at the towel wrapped around his hips, muffling a snort. Nothing there either – any of those teenage proclivities long since gone. Silently, she handed him the jacket, waiting to see if the mending had been rendered suitable, or if it would fall to pieces like everything else. “No,” she assured him, in the eaves and edges of restlessness, dropping down from the chair, and listlessly wandering away from the kitchen. Down the halls, traipsing closer and closer to her shared room with her twin, stopping dead in the entryway again.
When it’d been evident, clear, that Evelyn hadn’t been here earlier, she hadn’t gone any further. Now she was forced to tread into an old space, haunted perhaps, sifting through her closet, her drawers, to pull out pieces of clothing left behind from her last journey. Not sea logged. Not contorted and covered in salt. Just old pairs of workmanship quality clothing. Mabel swallowed down a lot of things in those moments, piecing them together, then taking them with her towards the bathroom.
And then staring down into the tub, releasing the levers, permitting the pipes to fill up the resin. Then her fingers began to tremble, and her arms released the clothing, dropping them to the floor; something like a sob threatened over her lungs and she couldn’t help it, hated it, detested the sudden, lonesome fear gripping over her.
Without her twin, there wasn’t anything left.
Her eyes went to him, arching a brow at the towel wrapped around his hips, muffling a snort. Nothing there either – any of those teenage proclivities long since gone. Silently, she handed him the jacket, waiting to see if the mending had been rendered suitable, or if it would fall to pieces like everything else. “No,” she assured him, in the eaves and edges of restlessness, dropping down from the chair, and listlessly wandering away from the kitchen. Down the halls, traipsing closer and closer to her shared room with her twin, stopping dead in the entryway again.
When it’d been evident, clear, that Evelyn hadn’t been here earlier, she hadn’t gone any further. Now she was forced to tread into an old space, haunted perhaps, sifting through her closet, her drawers, to pull out pieces of clothing left behind from her last journey. Not sea logged. Not contorted and covered in salt. Just old pairs of workmanship quality clothing. Mabel swallowed down a lot of things in those moments, piecing them together, then taking them with her towards the bathroom.
And then staring down into the tub, releasing the levers, permitting the pipes to fill up the resin. Then her fingers began to tremble, and her arms released the clothing, dropping them to the floor; something like a sob threatened over her lungs and she couldn’t help it, hated it, detested the sudden, lonesome fear gripping over her.
I bare my teeth
and stretch my claws out
and stretch my claws out
