“B-brighid, are we going to jump down from this window?” She whispers, her eyes shaking. Airleas’ mouth is hanging wide open, inviting flies. The window gleams and the glass panes dissolve into nothing, leaving a hole just big enough for me and Airleas to squeeze ourselves inside. Will she stop talking to me and shy away from me? Will I be left alone again? I don’t want to know.
“Aperi, domine fenestra! Et aperire in nobis!” I can feel my left eye burning, and I’m sure Airleas can see it. Airleas sneezes, her nose twitching like a rabbit. I touch the window, feeling the warmth of sunlight and the thick layer of dust. And when you haven’t had a bite for a week… the pain is worse than being beaten up. When you haven’t eaten for five days, you feel weak and impulsive – the very sight of food, even rotten veggies, look heavenly. When you haven’t had a scrap of food for a day, your tummy starts to ache and growl in protest. Why did it turn out this way? It’s not her fault – I know it isn’t. I stop tuning in to her words, feeling a fire burn in my chest. “I shouldn’t have eaten that cookie… I was just so hungry, so…” It’s all my fault,” she begins rambling, her pearl-like teeth biting her lower lip. I know what she’s going to say next – and I suppress the urge to cry. “What to do?” She groaned, “We’re trapped…” Her voice lowered slightly at the end. Airleas looks around, her hands fidgeting and her small face flushed. We both reach the end of the corridor, standing face to face with the one thing that can help us. That person doesn’t know which floor we’re in, and it would be best if he doesn’t know. The two of us creep across the corridor, wincing as the floorboards creak and tweak. I hear footsteps coming from below – loud, heavy steps that seem to echo everywhere. I just need to get Airleas out of here, and even if she hates me after this – I won’t regret it.īy this time, Airleas has stopped panting. My stomach is twisting into knots, but that’s okay. My heart is thumping like crazy, as if horses were stampeding across it. My eyes scan the corridor for the only natural source of light – yes, there it is! The opening in the wall covered with pristine glass – the ones that people call a window.
#The magic window story skin
A chill runs down my spine as I remember their faces – smirking down at us and sneering with those faces that make my skin crawl. “Brighid, just go without me,” Airleas whispers, her voice as soft as silk.īut how can I leave her? Leave her with… those people? The very thought of them makes me flinch. I grab her hand and drag her forward, my body aching. Her chest is heaving, and clear, porcelain drops of liquid are clinging to her forehead shamelessly. My palms are sweating like there is no tomorrow, but Airleas is panting really hard, and it doesn’t look like she’s going to calm down soon. “Hurry, Airleas!” I cry, heart pounding in my chest.
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