Us Until The End

Aella first noticed that there was something wrong with her when she was six years old. Aella guessed, though, that her powers were already proof enough for that. She had been playing with the puppy her parents had recently bought her, alone, while her cousins played together, either building giant towers or pretending they were monsters as they knocked down the towers. Aella had begged for the puppy, crying every time she was rejected. Aella’s aunts and uncles were in the dining room, chatting and laughing as they played their own adult games.

She always knew she preferred the company of animals or mindlessly watching the world pass by rather than to have to deal with the humans around her and she had heard plenty of comments from her classmates expressing the same thoughts so Aella never gave it much thought. She simply accepted it as a universal feeling and moved on with her life. Her generation was supposed to be weird, from what she had gathered. The bark of the puppy brought her back to the present and she watched as the puppy, Mr. Puggles, moved in frustration around her, waiting for the ball in her hand to be thrown so he could chase it. Now, even though his name was Mr. Puggles, he was not, in fact, a pug. He was a strong and brave pomeranian that would fight the evils of the night. That was his story though and not Aella’s to tell.

Aella had just thrown the ball and Mr. Puggles had begun to chase it when a loud screech of wood on tile was heard. The sound of yelling and chaos followed soon after in the dining room. Mr. Puggles startled and tripped, deciding to instead move closer to Aella, deeming her his protector. Aella picked him up and glanced up as her parents appeared in the living room, her Mother yelling profanities.

“How could you do such a thing? And with my sister of all people!” Aella’s Mother was seething, so angry that her face was red and her eyes seemed to bulge out slightly as she widened them in her anger. “We have a daughter! Did you not think of that? Could you not keep it in your pants?”

The initial anger seemed to die down and Aella’s mom wilted, all the power leaving her.

“I trusted you…Oh gosh, I trusted you and you went and slept with my sister. My sister!” She turned around. “And I trusted you!” She pointed to Aunt Janis who was attempting to hide.

Her mom sobbed into her hand, her eyes squeezing shut as she took deep breaths. It was only then that Aella noticed the presence of the rest of her family, one of her aunts had already decided to take all the children outside, leaving Aella behind and forgetting about her in her hurry. Aella shrugged. She was often too quiet and hidden so she was used to things like this.

Aella’s mom moved to hug Aella, whispering comforting words into her hair that seemed to be more for Aella’s mother rather than for Aella herself. Aella simply chose to stay still, confused by the ongoing chaos in the living room. Though, from the very little context that she had, Aella knew that her Father had cheated and that, based on her Mother’s reaction, Aella had to be devastated by the news. Aella had to show some sort of outward reaction. The problem was that Aella felt nothing. All that came to mind were those shows with a cheating spouse in them. So Aella observed the situation before her, the way her mom trembled as she held her and how tears clung to the surface of her skin.

And Aella began to act. She burst into tears and cried, pointing her finger at her dad and screaming “how could you daddy” over and over again. Her mom hugged her tighter for her efforts, her shaking increasing as she fell into full blown sobs as she held Aella to her chest. Both were on the floor and even though Aella found it uncomfortable she merely continued to act in the way that she thought was expected of her.

Throughout the days, as her parents began to manage their marriage and figure out what they were going to do moving forward, Aella still continued to act. There was an instance that came to mine, one where Aella had managed to escape one of her watchful aunts, otherwise known as her babysitter, and eavesdropped on a conversation between her parents out of curiosity.

“I would divorce you immediately if it weren’t for Aella,” her mom had said through gritted teeth, seething anger escaping from her every pore.

Aella was planning to turn around and pretend she had heard nothing when she noticed her aunt, frozen, clearly having heard her mom. Aella’s aunt had stared at her as if expecting her to break and begin crying. Aella had panicked and scoured her brain to find out what it was someone would normally do in her situation. That’s when a memory of a girl running away, crying and locking herself up in her room surfaced. So Aella did just that. She ran and sniffled as she went, attempting to seem as natural as possible. She locked the door immediately once she entered and pretended to dissolve into a sobbing mess. Her aunt knocked on the door, telling her that everything would be alright soon but Aella didn’t open the door, not knowing what to do if she did happen to open the door.

Would she have to continue to pretend to sob? Was she supposed to be comforted? Aella had no idea so she chose to stay hidden in her room. Her aunt eventually left her alone and walked away. Aella heard her talking to herself about the “poor child” and how this must be a “traumatic event” for her. Aella honestly didn’t know how she felt.

Even after everything had died down and her parents decided to stay together and work on their marriage, Aella continued to observe her parents emotions and responses to stimuli so that she could know how to act. How she should feel if she were to ever be placed in a similar situation. Her fake expression of emotions got better over the years just as her parents’ marriage did. It took a lot of insults and swearing from Aella’s Mother and a lot of patience and understanding from Aella’s Father for their marriage to continue. Aella often saw him standing alone, head bowed, as her Mother threw insult after insult at him. Though it was never the same. That much Aella could tell.

“She has every right to act like this,” her Father had told her one day, when her Mother was asleep. “I hurt her really badly,” he had whispered, something like regret in his tone?

I had nodded in response even as he apologized to me too. Even as I was confused about the whole situation. Aella’s mom didn’t trust her sister or husband and made that very clear. They weren’t allowed to contact each other unless it was a true life of death situation and if this rule was ever ever broken, then the marriage was immediately broken, burned, and thrown down the toilet. Aella understood the reasoning behind it.

Aella knew that deep down, logically, she loved her parents. Aella didn’t know what love was and didn’t think she had ever truly experienced it but if she had to name love, then love was the bond she had with her parents. At least, she liked to think it was. Their “love” for each other was what kept her labeled as a human being. As a sane and not psychotic human being. That was, at least, until she turned eight.

Aella had spent an eventful day with her parents outside, having participated in a water fight with them that ended in her victory. She had laughed the laugh she’d practiced in front of the mirror everyday, looking for faults, for signs of fakeness and dead eyes. She’d found them and erased them. The embarrassed one, the shy one, the “that was funny but not quite” one came to be with her facial expressions, changing each laugh to a matching facial expression. She’d made the perfect doll. So her dream that night had come as a surprise.

There was blood on her hands, on the floor, on the couch, on the walls. It was splattered everywhere, pooling around her, slowly, slowly, slowly rising to fill the house. It dripped from the ceiling and fell on her face and no disgust or panic rose at its arrival. It splattered onto her body and dirtied her clothes but she didn't care. In fact, a great pleasure overtook her, overwhelming her to her very core as she delighted in the bloody mess that surrounded her.

Aella faced the living room, morbidly fascinated by the splatters of blood and watched as drop after drop of blood fell, only to splatter as soon as it touched the floor. For some reason, Aella wished to see something else splatter. Something more morbid. Something beautiful. A noise caused her to turn and that’s when she was faced with the two dead bodies of her parents.

Her mom lay on the floor, her back to the floor with her neck unnaturally twisted to the left. A knife stuck out from her stomach, a gaping hole glaringly obvious. Aella could see her intestines as she moved closer. It was due to her closeness that she was able to notice her mother’s two broken arms, her fingers mutilated beyond recognition. They had previously been hidden by the copious amount of dark red blood pooling around her. Aella could see her mother’s bones, could see as they protruded through her flesh and glinted in the light.

Aella’s dad, her father, was lying face down, a hand outstretched toward his wife, a smear of blood left behind him on the tiled floor. His back, too, had a knife sticking out and he was missing an ear and an arm. And even though Aella had not seen herself mutilate her own parents, she knew- the moment she had seen her parents lying in that pool of blood- she knew that she was the perpetrator behind their torturous death. But Aella could not find it within herself to feel disgust or sadness or even anger towards herself. Cold apathy chained her to her surroundings as she stared at her parents, transfixed upon their forms.

Mr. Puggles appeared suddenly before her, his gaze all knowing and holding intelligence within his dark gaze as he bore his eyes into her. He gave a single resounding bark that woke her from her dream. She startled awake, quickly sitting up and noticing that light was breaking through her blinds. She glanced at her door, which was opened and her eyes met those of Mr. Puggles, who was sitting, staring at her from the doorway. His eyes were just as dark as hers.