Chapter 27 - The Girl Wants to Be M*rdered

〈 Chapter 27 〉 Preparation --- Today, there’s a brief reflection. ** The sorrowful sound of water tapping against the window. I stretched a hand out towards the open window, savoring the moment. Raindrops incessantly fell upon my backhand, already soaked, each drop merging with the next, refusing to let my hand dry even for a moment. Drip, drip, went the sound. Raindrops hitting the window at regular intervals possess a sorcerous charm of their own. A heavenly gift that soothes the listener's heart, inviting a gaze into one's depths. And for those who tread with eyes cast downward, an unrecognizable solace. "...It feels refreshing." Drip. Drip. Drip. Naturally, the falling raindrops were chillingly cold, almost to a startling degree. On days like this, I yearn to throw off my umbrella and wander the streets freely, embracing the rain. To lie in a puddle and gaze up at the sky would be truly delightful. But confined as I was, unable to venture outside at will, I could only wistfully extend my hand out the window from within my room. A tiny cage. "Ugh…" Fumbling around. I nervously touched the bandage wrapped around my eyes. "I wish… I could see Ellie’s face..." The bandages over my eyes were tied so tightly, as if to symbolize the determination of the one who bound them. It made them almost impossible to remove. She really has no intention of taking them off, does she? Six months. A time that could be either short or long. That’s how long Ellie has been living within her deceptive routine. In the end, just as I reached the edge of a cliff while running from Anna, Ellie too will someday meet her limit. Or perhaps, she’s already there. I harbored some discontent over her not sharing her secret with me, yet it also meant that she held me close to her heart, leaving me in a state of helpless happiness. "Hehe." I placed my recently freed left hand on my chest. Thump-thump, I felt the gentle rhythm. My heart was beating. Surely, if she thought of me as just any common weed, there’d be no reason to hide anything. Secrets are the hardest to conceal from the ones you love most. Simply knowing there’s someone who has a secret they don’t want me to discover makes me feel excessively blessed. "But time runs out... sis..." However, even that is drawing to an end. I genuinely wished to wait until Ellie gathered her courage, but her lies were clumsily crafted. If it was anyone else, her secret might have been exposed, and their relationship could have crumbled. Instead of enduring the agony from lies that could be exposed at any moment, it might be easier to keep me blind and by her side. Had Ellie decided to keep me perpetually by her, I was willing to accept everything, yet sadly, Ellie wasn't formidable enough to harbor such fierce determination. Truly, it’s a pity. "Now, it's time to be born." I know that only by ramming its head against the shell, breaking and shattering it, does a hawk truly emerge to command the world. But a fledgling that never manages to crack the shell eventually dies. Too tragic to call it merely the law of nature. To end a once-in-a-lifetime existence without even spreading one's wings. So, I must help. "The raindrops, drip, drip—" Now then, let's devise a plan. A plan to help Ellie break free from her shell. Drip drip. Drip, drip. I retrieved my right hand, which had been extended out the window. Having been exposed outside for over an hour amidst the pelting rain and howling winds, my right hand had grown as cold as ice. Curious about the taste of the rain, I licked a drop, finding nothing special about it. Afterwards, I recalled—ah, my sense of taste was never great. Ugh... Feeling as dejected as one suffering heartbreak, I tucked my stiffened hand between my legs. As it tingled with warmth slowly returning, I felt comfort enveloping me. Oddly enough, putting my hand there between my legs offered a peculiar sense of warmth and security. "Warm..." Resting my head on my knees, I began formulating my plan for the future. Drip, drip, the rainstorm showed no sign of abating, intensifying instead. Its pure sound felt as though it could echo on forever. "Wheee~" Honestly speaking, it's a simple task. All I need to do is untie my bandages in front of her and witness Ellie's true self. With that, her meticulously crafted facade would lose its luster, and time, which had seemed to stop, would once again flow. Yet, that too would be deception. Not even worthy of comedy, it would become the subject of rolling mockery. To unbind these bandages during a regular meal in front of her? It might offer a momentary shock to the audience, but such a pompous scenario could never deeply resonate. Lacking justification, probability, rising action, a protagonist's crisis and struggle, or even anything that induces emotional resonance. A work such as that holds no reason to exist. Tap, tap, thud. "...Drip...drip...drip." Aristotle had mentioned that within a tragedy's plot, not even the slightest inconsistency should exist. In unavoidable cases, the conclusion should stem from the tragedy's external elements. No deus ex machina should exist here. No being with absolute authority, no figure whose power awakens by coincidence. Only humans. The dazzlingly radiant life of a single, living being should be captured. This is Ellie’s story, a tale only meant for her alone. Therefore, what I contemplate is when, where, and how to emerge before her for the greatest dramatic effect. No matter how talented the actors, a story capturing mundane life does not earn empathy anywhere. A play that fails to stir the audience drains the spirit. Indeed. A performance is required. I contemplate every controlled element—from acting to setting, props, expressions, and movements. For Ellie, who is both the protagonist and the audience of this story, I will present an unparalleled event, a once-in-a-lifetime spectacle that will propel her forward. So, dear Ellie. I’ll do my utmost. For you, I'll craft the finest performance. "Live dangerously. Build your city on the slopes of Vesuvius." Accept my life, which seems to have no reason for being, as a gift. ** There exists a thing known as an unwritten rule. It's a concept where people mutually agree and adhere to a rule without explicitly stating it. In my case, it would be not to remove the bandage covering my eyes. But does she know? Such words incite the very action they aim to prevent, especially in someone like me. When someone says not to think of a pink elephant, it becomes inevitable to think of one. The image of the elephant embeds itself firmly in a child's mind. She always spoke compulsively. "Don’t remove the bandage," she would say. Thus, even if I, who have held back thus far, decide to remove the bandage now, it’s not something I can help. Even if I remove the bandage and wander around searching for her, who vanished without a trace, what choice would I have? When a child who only depends on the sister who cared for them wakes up in the early hours to find her gone, there’s little to do but search, right? The slightest temptation of removing the bandage. A child easily succumbs. In fact, I should be proud of myself for holding out until now. Wouldn’t you agree? "...Tap, tap, tap...Tap, tap, tap..." Three or four times a week. Ellie enters my room at night to make sure I'm sound asleep. Then, she disappears. I don’t know where she goes. In the first place, I have no knowledge of the surrounding scenery or the area's geography. However, aside from the time spent preparing meals, it's certain she ventures outside for hours during the night while I sleep. The next morning, the scent of blood was so strong on her that even I noticed it. When asked, she claimed she had been hunting. Exactly what kind of creatures leave such a potent scent, I wondered. With that, Ellie fell silent, and I understood she was reluctant to discuss the subject further. "...Swoosh." As if a hole had been pierced through the sky, the rain intensified. If there is a hole in the sky allowing rain to pour, perhaps a blue ocean lies beyond above it. That would indeed be fascinating. Finally, with raindrops finding their way into my room, I was forced to close the window. Raindrops lightly tapped against the closed window. Listening closely, I noticed the rhythm of their impact on the glass picking up tempo, like a song between the raindrops and the window. In response, I tapped my fingers on the glass. Tap, tapping, what a pleasing sound. Tap, tara-tap, tap. The impromptu harmony continued until my fingers stilled. Not yet, not yet. Just a little longer, more perfectly. —Tap! "........." For the past two nights, Ellie has not left at dawn. By tomorrow, or at least the day after tomorrow, she is likely to go out. But even if she doesn't, she always checks to make sure I am sound asleep before she leaves. Keeping an eye on that ensures I won’t miss her movements. Once Ellie confirms my sleep and steps out, —I plan to remove my bandage and follow her. I will unveil all that she wishes to keep hidden from me. On stage, every secret Ellie cherishes, I'll lay bare. What kind of face will Ellie make? What will she do to me? "Tap, tap..." It's exhilarating. Truly, it's fun. But for now, let's enjoy the sound of the rain. Silently... "........" ** * * *