Sound of Footsteps

Sunlight dappled the wall in a spotted pattern through the curtains, filling the room with fresh, golden color. Slowly, the lone occupant of the room roused himself, leaving behind the warmth of slumber to rise into the coolness of the morning air. Dennis sat up in bed, dirty blonde hair tussled in a a short, fluffy mess, squinting his right eye as he peered around his room. A desk sat under the window, with his bookbag hanging over the back of the chair. Against the other wall sat a small toy chest, figurines, trains and dinosaurs littering the ground around it, with a small TV and an ancient Super Nintendo system sitting beside it. The closet was slightly ajar, old pictures of war planes and explosions that he'd drawn himself hanging upon it, with their model counterparts dangling from strings and dancing with dust motes near the ceiling. And every part of his bedroom floor that he could see was covered with his old, and dirty clothes.

Just like he left it. His mother tried to force him to keep it clean but it always ended up the same. It was satisfying to wake up in this space that was undeniably his, showing the accumulated activities of the days events. Also, he was just lazy and didn't see the point of putting something away if he planned on taking it right back out again tomorrow.

Finally, tossing his blankets aside, he got up, wandering drowsily out into the hallway, making his way to the lime green and lemon yellow colored bathroom where he briefly relieved himself. The house was unusually quiet for this time of morning, he realized as he went back into the hall. There were no sounds or smells coming from downstairs and when he noticed his mother's bedroom door was closed, he gave it an annoyed look. She'd probably been working late last night. She was always working late.

Downstairs in the kitchen, he scratched at a thin, bare thigh, just past his sleeping shorts as he perused the boxes of cereal in the bottom cabinet. What did he feel like eating today? The one with the pink guy, the one with the green hat guy or the one with the rabbit? After about the millionth "episode" in one of those brands cereal commercials where some mystery or tragedy was happening to the guy with his stupid face on the box, Dennis had decided it wasn't important to know any of their names. They couldn't force him to care about whatever was currently tormenting that psycho chocolate bird, or whatever it was. It was breakfast cereal, for crying out loud.

Selecting the box with green hat guy on it, he set it on the counter and reached up high to the cabinets above for a bowl. He had a growth spurt this year - much to both his and his mother's dismay since she'd needed to get him new pants before school began again - and was now tall enough to reach the higher cabinets without having to climb on top of the counter. Still, he was on tippy toes, but who was going to count that against him? He was the tallest kid in his class, after all. With his bowl set on the table, he tipped the box and emptied the contents into it, enough to fill it, setting it aside before he moved to the refrigerator.

No milk. She forgot to go shopping. "Mom! We need more milk!" he called out, deliberately making his voice loud and stretching the words out to get her attention. She'd be annoyed when she woke up that way, but when wasn't she annoyed with him? Besides, she needed to get up anyway, to drive him to school.

Letting out a heavy breath, Dennis plopped down in his seat and fished in his bowl to pick out the freeze-dried marshmallows, biting into them with his front teeth and crunching them noisily with his back teeth, enjoying the sensation of the little candy-like morsels. Playing with his spoon, he glanced at the clock and realized he needed to start getting ready. Normally, when she was here, she'd be bustling about and ushering him to get a move on. Now it looked like he'd have to be the one to push her around. Alright, this was getting ridiculous. She couldn't sleep all frigging day! The sun was up and he needed tending to if he was going to get to school on time. Walking back upstairs, he didn't even try to be quiet, going as far as to deliberately step on the extra creaky steps as he made his way to her door.

"Mooooom!" he said in exasperation through the door, knocking loudly on it.

Silence answered him. Assuming she was still sleeping, and annoyed that he needed to play the role of parent, he opened the door and stepped inside. "Come on, mom. It's time to get up--" Stopping in his tracks, he blinked blankly for a moment at the made bed, nothing but sunlight from her window laying upon it. Just like every time he came home to an empty house and nothing but a note and refrigerated meal, there was a sudden lonely chill that coursed through him to realize... this whole time he'd been talking to and referring to a presence that was not here.

Almost as soon as it appeared, the feeling was squashed and he let out a small groan. Great. She probably took the early morning shift too. That meant he'd need to get their neighbor, Mr. Toomey, to give him a ride and that guy was a creep. It wouldn't be the first time that he'd needed to depend on a neighbor like this and Mr. Toomey would probably be a grumpy turd, having to drive him on such short notice. Sometimes he wished he had a more dependable mother.

Small hands grasped the thick covers, tugging them over the dark head of hair. In the middle of the twin size bed a small ball began to curl up, taking the blankets with it. The light of the morning had found it's way through the curtains and into the pale blue room. There was no matter in fighting it, the sun was here and it was time to get up. Throwing the covers off, the child jumped out of bed feet landing right on a barbie doll."Ow!" the young girl fell back a little, grabbing her foot. Hazel green eyes glared at what once was a perfect doll - the doll had been made more 'interesting' by having all it's hair cut off very short- as the small foot kicked it away towards another pile of toys. Fingers reached up pushing the mess of curls away from the girl's face as she gazed at her room. Toys were scattered on the floor, her Barbies were in their dream house, while the lone Ken had been sent to jail for stealing Barbie's car. The shelves were stacked with books of all kinds, even some chapter books that had yet to be read. The door to closet was never left open partly because of the monsters, and partly because all the clothes had been stuffed in their. The walls held paintings and drawings that she and her mother had made together, and a small table was set for fake morning coffee. Stepping around the mess Eleanor(or Ellie as she far more preferred it) opened the door to head to the bathroom. It was quite, but that was usual. Her mother would be down stairs either making breakfast or on the computer, and her father would be asleep. Her father worked long hours and was hardly home, her mother was angry about that quite often.

After the necessities that should be taken care of when one wakes up, Ellie washed her hands and began to take a brush to her hair. She had dark brown hair with curls that most people would envy, but as any curly haired person would, she hated them. Raking the brush through her hair, the bristles caught on the tangles and Ellie's eyes began to tear up.She hated this part of morning rituals and if she didn't think her mother would be incredibly angry she would have cut it all off at any point. Deciding to come back to this later, she hurried down stairs to see what her mother would have waiting for her.

She ran down the stairs, stopping on the sixth step to slide down the banister the rest of the way. "Mama, what did you make me?" Ellie sang out softly, as to not wake her father, waiting for her mother's soft song back. But, she smelled no aroma and heard no voice from the kitchen, and when she entered no one was there. "Mama?" Ellie looked around the corner. She walked over to the microwave to see if anything was in there, but nothing, nothing but the time. Time was getting away already, Ellie still wasn't dressed and the bus would be here soon. The bus would be here soon and Ellie wasn't dressed not to mention her belly was empty. "Mama! Did you forget what day it was!?" Ellie called out again, this time a little louder. She left the kitchen to enter her mother's office slash craft room. Her mother, who spent most her free time here if not in the kitchen or with Ellie, was not in her office. This was strange but, this looking around would only make her more late, so she headed back upstairs to change.

Rushing past her parents room toward her own, Ellie made her way straight to the closet. Throwing out a few items of clothes here and there Ellie finally found something. She pulled off her nighty, and pulled on a new clean pair of underwear, a pair of blue jeans, a white peter pan collar shirt, and slipped on her favorite yellow rain boots. The weather didn't call for rain one bit, but they were her favorite, and her mother would call it 'creativity' to wear something out of the norm. She pulled her backpack off the back of her bedroom door, and headed back to the bathroom to give her hair another go.

Sadly, it just wouldn't budge, and by now all Ellie had managed to do is rip out her hair instead of untangling it. Sniffling, water ran down her freckled cheeks, "Mama..." Ellie called out in a pathetic voice. "Mama." she walked down the hall to her parents room, brush stuck in her hair. "Mama." Ellie wiped her eyes. "Mama." her small hands turned the knob of the door that led to her parents room and as it opened it revealed the large king size bed and no one in it. Now, this was strange. "Mama!" Ellie panic, running for her parents bathroom, throwing the door open. No one. "Daddy!" she called out, back in the hallway. "MAMA-" maybe she was next door, sometimes she cleaned the neighbors house or feed their dogs when they weren't home. Ellie rushed down stairs, but noticed the clock on the TV as she ran past the living room. The bus was going to be here any minute, and she was without her Mama and a brush stuck in her hair. Pulling the brush, she ran out the door and waited at the bus stop across the street.

"Mr. Toomey! Helloooooo!" he shouted through the front door while leaning aggravatingly on the buzzer.

The sun was up and shining brightly, casting dew filled shadows behind the houses on this block as it made its ascent to the blue expanse overhead. The perfect picture of suburbia, each house had the neatly trimmed green rectangle of lawn, the uniform look from being coughed up from the same mold, with a very "white picket fence" and backyard grilling feel to the mini vans and pickup trucks parked in the driveways. Mr. Toomey's house and his house were squashed together in one building, basically with two doors on the front of it and the interiors separated by a paper thin wall. And the psycho adorned his side of the lawn with all of the lawn ornaments from the lawn and garden section of Wal-Mart.

Dennis pressed on the buzzer in a pattern, basically playing the theme song for ActRaiser 2 in buzzer form, hoping to pressure the old geezer to break if he was ignoring Dennis on purpose. After a minute, he stepped over to one of the front windows and shaded his eyes around the glass to peer at the dimly lit living room. Hm, that was weird. Mr. Toomey's ancient maroon Buick - which Dennis was always told to keep "his grubby little hands off of" - was glistening in the driveway, but there was no sign of the man anywhere inside. Or anything else. Mr. Toomey had cats that liked to lounge in the windows and watch the birds, and a little Pekingese yapper-dog that ALWAYS barked it's head off at whoever came to the door. No mutt and no kitties were seen or heard from inside. Why would the old fart leave with his pets but not his precious car?

That wasn't the only thing that was weird, he realized, as he turned from the window to regard the street, adjusting his bookbag that was slung over one shoulder. The sun was up now and that meant people should either be leaving for work or on their way, and yet no one had passed on the road the entire time he'd been out here. No briefcase toting adults rushing to their cars, no soccer moms juggling coffee and herding kids into the vans. Walking down Mr. Toomey's sidewalk to the main sidewalk along the road, Dennis kicked over one of the dopey, pink flamingos that lined the path like a fence and stood by Toomey's garbage cans as he surveyed the street.

Not just adults were absent, but these were family homes and there were lots of kids in this neighborhood. They should be either walking to the bus stop at the corner or they should already be waiting there. The bus didn't come until 8 and last he checked, it was just a bit past 7:30 - yeah, dumb mom. He was running late - so, there should be kids there. Where were all the people?

Something wasn't right. Running back into his house, he dropped his bookbag in the entryway and left the door wide open before plopping to his knees in front of the TV. Turning it on, he was immediately met by static, the television seemingly hissing at him for disturbing it's tombstone-like slumber. Changing the channel a few times, there was nothing but static on the news stations and he got a sinking feeling in his gut. Finally, he came to a channel that had something on it and it was playing an old episode of Full House. Without realizing it, Dennis had started breathing heavily, but he swallowed thickly and began to calm down as he watched the people on the screen move about and talk to each other. Whatever the episode theme was, it was dumb, but he was comforted by the feeling that he wasn't alone.

Even though he was. Sitting back from the TV, he listened for a few minutes longer before it occurred to him that this didn't mean anything. These were reruns, prerecorded programing that was on a schedule. The fact that despite whatever happened had left the programs running rather than put up the emergency signal or destroyed the TV stations altogether, meant that he really was alone and whatever made everybody disappear had happened suddenly.

That same loneliness gripped him again as he listened to one of the 5 year old Olsen twins say something that preceded canned laughter, while he looked around his living room. There was the two couches against the walls in the boxy room, faded colors with quilts thrown over the backs and neatly placed tiny pillows that were the same color as the rest of the cushions. There was the coffee table that was lacquered and chipped and hurt like hell whenever he banged his head or a knee or a foot on it's smooth, rounded edges. The blue carpet with recent vacuum lines webbed across it - his sneaker footprints interrupting the flow of the pattern. Pictures hung on the walls, those idiotic country store styled paintings with barns, houses and willow trees with words like "Bless our home" and "Family" underneath them - things that his mother liked.

All alone. Without people here, the house and all of it's contents became threatening, like an alien space that was unfamiliar and creepy. The TV behind his head continued to speak in it's scripted conversations, sounding faded and far away, like a distant part of humanity that he desperately clung to but could no longer reach. Where did they all go? Why was he left behind?

Slowly, the fear inside began to dissipate and a small smile tugged at his lips as the implications dawned on him. He was the last human on Earth! These things weren't familiar; it was his home, the place that he'd grown up in and all of these things were his. And... all of the things outside this house belonged to him too. No adults to tell him otherwise. Did this mean he didn't have to go to school?! Sweet! Grinning proudly about the epiphany he'd just had, he rose and darted back out the door, the loose over shirt he was wearing flapping like sails around his arms as he jumped off his stoop.

"I'm king of the woooorld!" he declared loudly, fully confident that no one would be around to argue. Jogging over to the car port at the side of the house, he brought out his bicycle and instantly hopped on, pedaling out into the middle of the street.

Riding along the familiar block he lived on, he turned down the street on the left, the wind blowing his bangs out of his face and his long, jean-clad legs pumping fast on the pedals. He was heading into town - just to make sure; it could be that he was mistaken and something else was going on around here, but he doubted it. There was no way his mother would ever be convinced to leave him behind. He was going to break into the candy store. Screw green hat guy cereal! He was going to have some REAL marshmallow candy for breakfast!

Then suddenly he stopped when he saw a figure moving in the distance, setting his foot down on the asphalt to steady himself. She was walking on the sidewalk in the same direction he was going, so she had her back to him. Even so, from her hair and her clothes, Dennis instantly recognized her as a girl he knew from school. Ellie or something. They didn't have classes together but he knew her from recess and he picked on her occasionally. She had really curly hair and there was nothing really physically wrong with her; Dennis just didn't like her very much and she was kind of weird - always wearing those stupid boots. Out of all the people he had to be stuck alone in the world with, why did it have to be her?

"Fuck," he said brazenly, leaning with one foot on the ground and letting out a harsh sigh as he picked it back up and started pedaling again. Might as well go and say hello, he guessed.

As he got closer to her, he looked her over and noticed the mess her hair was in and instantly started laughing. "Pfffft! Nice hair, dumbass!" he called out haughtily, the reflector on his front wheel clicking mechanically as he slowed down and stopped beside her. Why did she still have her bookbag on? Oh my God! She still thinks she's going to school! he thought to himself, feeling a rush of power fill him to have figured things out quicker than she did - especially with the emotional control he could now hold over her head. Oh, this is gonna be fun. "Where are you going, freckle-face?"

Ellie's yellow rubber soles slapped against the pavement as she walked-ran. Her canvas messenger bag hit her lower thigh, it was set a little longer then it should be. Her little fingers with multicolored nails, reach up for her hair. She couldn't rack a single thing through those curls. Usually her mother would make those unmanageable curls look so pretty, or as pretty as Ellie thought curls like her's could look. As she looked up from her feet, that her eyes had be completely set on watching, she noticed something very strange...where were all the people?

This was the time of morning bustle. The time that people would drive way to fast down their little suburban road, rushing to get to work, or wherever it was they had to be. This was the time that Ellie would be with a half a dozen other kids running to the bus stop cause they just weren't morning kids. This was the time the garbage man would be making his rounds, and people, like her mother, were running down the street after them because they forgot to put the garbage on the curb. Ellie looked around again. Had she forgotten what day it was? Everyone on her block seemed to be home, but that, even on the weekend, was weird.

The slap of her shoes began to slow as she took the sight in more. She couldn't even hear birds, or dogs, or anything. Except, Click, Click, Click. Someone was here. Ellie's hear fluttered. She had been scared, but the sound had reassured her. That was until she heard the fateful voice, "Nice hair, dumbass!" Ellie's heart stopped it's dance, and dropped about 68 feet straight into her stomach. Her steps quicken a little. 'Craps. God not him. Anyone, but not him. Please don't talk to me anymore. Just ignore me please.' Ellie chanted in her mind. Dennis was the boys name, and for some awful reason he had chosen to take out his family life problems out on her. Her steps quicken a little more as she heard the second insult. She hoped he would get a clue and just leave her alone.

But, with every word he spoke to Ellie, that small hand would curls so tight that her nails would leave imprints in her hand. That little fist would turn white knuckled, but she just kept her head down, and her pace brisk. Her heart still in her stomach, it began to heave. Ellie eyes gazed from her peripheral vision, up and down the bare streets. What was this?! Where was everyone!?

She wasn't responding. That was alright. He knew he had her cornered and her silence made him feel bigger than her. There was no one else in the whole world except them and he didn't have to be nice to her if he didn't want to and there wasn't anything she or anybody else could do about it. Keeping pace with her, Dennis continued to ride his bike, sometimes going a little faster than she was and sometimes going just a bit slower but pretty much staying right beside her, weaving lazily in the road.

"Hellooooooooo!" Dennis said in a long, drawn out and aggravating voice. "Can you hear me? I asked wheya-awe-yoo-going?" He stuttered the words deliberately mocking how a retarded person might talk and snorted meanly about it. There. Maybe she'd understand him now since he was talking her language.

Dennis didn't really know why he didn't like Ellie. They'd never really had any conversations more than the taunts he shouted at her and the extent of their interaction involved pushing her and making fun of her. He didn't actually know anything about her at all. She just dressed a little odd and her curly hair was different and messy compared to the other girls in their class. Why did she have to look so different? Why couldn't she be just like everybody else? He supposed none of that mattered anymore, but she still looked exactly the same as she always had and it pissed him off.

Looking ahead of her up the street, he glanced back at her and said, "Are you going to the bus stop? You do know that the whole world has disappeared, right? There will be nobody to pick you up because school has been officially canceled. Forever." Yeah, let's see how she liked that!

Ellie kept her stride, the noise of clicking was all she could hear, and the only presence she felt was of the single person beside her. Her stomach heaved again. She felt sick now. Fear, I think it was, beginning to set in. Still ignoring Dennis, she picked her head up, no longer glancing, but full on searching for anyone else. Anyone. She tried to keep her breath normal, but she could feel the shallow inhale, and the shaky exhale. Her curly hair bounce back and forth as she head whipped either way, as if it were going to spin all the way around.

Ellie heard the mocking beside her, flashing a harsh glare she had seen her mother give her father many times. The glare only remained for a second before the hazel green eyes went back to their searching. But, that tiny fist only balled up tighter. Her hand was hurting by now, her nails had left deep impressions in her palm. She wasn't sure she could breath,she felt completely light headed, she felt like she was going to throw up. Ellie heard Dennis' sharp tongue, and she was afraid. She froze.

"SHUT UP!" Ellie charged at Dennis and his bike, pushing him over to the ground. Her small fist were balled up so tight, and her face was bright red, as she held back tears."SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING STUPID, SO SHUT UP!" Ellie screamed at the top of her lungs, as the tears flooded down her face. She was so angry, and afraid, and a completely baby. She wanted her mother. She wanted to be with her. She wanted anything other then to be alone, and to be alone with Dennis.

The tears were still streaming down her face, and she doubted she looked scary, or mean, or anything other than a crybaby. Ellie wiped the tears with the back of her hand. This was impossible. How could everyone be gone. At first Ellie didn't bother to look at Dennis, but as she surveyed the empty streets, those hazel green orbs landed right back on him. If looks could kill.She settled on kicking his tire one good time, before turning her back to head home. But, what home would be left to go to, because home was not their without her mother.

The reaction he got was completely unexpected, seeming to explode out of nowhere. The timid little girl that he was riding beside and who he'd hounded for almost an entire year was suddenly gone, replaced by a fierce and angry hurricane, slamming into him with enough force and surprise to knock him down hard. Landing upon the asphalt with his bike still wedged between his legs, Dennis winced and then lay half on his side, just staring speechless at the screaming young girl standing over him. Wow. Where had quiet, weird little Ellie gone and who was this psycho girl who'd taken her place?

He had to admit, for several brief seconds, he was scared of her. Laying on the ground, half under the hard, metal skeleton of his bicycle, Dennis was feeling particularly vulnerable and watched her warily for any more signs of violence. He noticed the tears and there was a small flash of guilt that surged through him but it was quickly squashed by a feeling of triumph in having made her cry. Ha! Still just a little ole baby! She wasn't so tough! Even as victorious as he was feeling, it didn't stop him from flinching when she kicked his bike one last time and turned, stomping off in the opposite direction. Probably running home to cry to mommy! Oh, wait! She's not there, dumbass! Ha!

Hissing slightly in pain, Dennis moved to prop himself up a little, only then realizing that he'd skinned his elbow, which was bare below the sleeve of his short-sleeved overshirt, in addition to the myriad of new bruises he felt all along his right leg. Crazy freak! Why'd she have to go and do that? He didn't say anything that wasn't true and she had no business getting angry at him about it! He didn't make everybody vanish! And she'd been looking around - she HAD to know it was the truth! Otherwise, she really was a big, stupid baby! And now she was running home, as if she planned to tell on him or something.

Well, fine! She could go be dumb by herself then! As he reached these final conclusions, Dennis gingerly wriggled out from underneath his bike and got back to his feet, lifting the two wheeled, black and orange, metal steed, making sure she hadn't damaged it that bad. Standing beside it, his side sore and his elbow scraped free of skin in a small patch, stinging and bleeding in the slowly warming morning air, he decided not to ride it. He'd just walk beside the bike for a while and then ride the rest of the way to town. But as he stepped onto the sidewalk, walking beside his bike, he stopped and glanced around again at the empty and eerily quiet neighborhood, chancing a small look behind him where he could see Ellie still walking in the opposite direction.

This changed things. He thought he was the only one on the entire planet and had planned to enjoy his solitude to the fullest, because it was a lot more fun than worrying about being alone. But now that she was here too... He couldn't just go off now and be by himself, knowing that she was here too. It was different knowing that he was completely and utterly alone and that nothing would change that. Having someone else here, his loneliness became much more potent and real.

But he didn't want her to know that and he couldn't let her go. Turning around, wheeling his bike beside him still, he walked hurriedly to catch up to her, the clicking on his wheels snapping rapidly as he rushed towards her. His first impulse was to shove her in the back and make her fall down, to show her who was boss, but he did admit a slight fear of what she would do in retaliation. After all, they were in the same situation with no adults around to tell them what to do or punish them for hurting each other. She could hurt him back now. Not that he was scared of her or anything, just that he didn't want to have to hurt her and make her cry even more. That's all.

Speeding up, he rushed past her and stepped ahead of her, stopping right in her path, saying, "Wait, stop! Where are you going, cry baby?" Internally, Dennis felt himself cringe at the mean nickname and his tone, but instead of stopping himself, he puffed his chest out and stood looking at her haughtily. "You can't push me like that and get away with it! We ARE the only one's here and I'm bigger than you! So, that makes me King of the planet and you have to do what I say! Now, I order you to stop crying and stop pushing me! There's nobody here to save you and I don't want to have to hurt you really bad if I get mad!" Oh, God! What was he saying?? He couldn't stop now though or she'd think he was a chicken.

"You also have to follow me around and right now, I'm going to the candy store. Since there's no adults around, everything is mine now and maybe, if you're good and listen to everything I tell you, I'll let you have some of it."

What could be a home without a single person in it? As the saying went "Home is where the heart is" and Ellie's heart was not in material things. Such a feeling for a child her age would have seemed odd, especially under the condition she was raised. After all, most things Ellie could want her father made enough money to supply them. But it was her mother that taught her that material things are not important; it's the people in your life that are what really matter. So to Ellie a world with no one, and a house without her mother could never be a home.

These feelings that filled her came, but the tears had stopped; she could only cry so much before there was no water left. She was alone. Not entirely, but the idea of being with that boy that would hurt her she would rather be. Ellie wiped her nose on her wrist. But, there were no others besides she and him, and the people in your life are what really mattered. But, was that still the case when the only other person in the world was the only person in your life; and, when that person was so mean, and didn't care about you anyway? Was that person really suppose to matter to you? Ellie didn't know. My God, she was only eight and this was a huge thing to just be dropped right into her lap. She didn't even know how to do the things it took to be on you own. She couldn't eat toast and pop up waffles for the rest of her life. Or go around with a brush stuck in her hair. Who would make sure she didn't drown in the bath tub!? The idea of another person, any person was starting to become a little more appealing.

Ellie hesitated, not wanting to look back; but what if Dennis knew all that stuff? What if he knew how to make food? What if he knew how to do laundry? What if he could protect her? Then again, what were the chances he would come to her rescue. Not only had he always been mean, but Ellie had really shown her ass and let him totally conquer her and her actions. What if it would always be like that? Them fighting. I life of no one but him and her and fighting and bickering. What kind of life would that be? Miserable. A life like her mother and father had. A life and a relationship with no happiness and no love. Ellie kept walking. Maybe she could learn how to be a big girl all on her own. Maybe. Maybe she would fail completely and drown in the bath tub, or slice off her hand trying to cut the crusts off, or fall off the banister while she was sliding down it, or scalp herself trying to pull that damn brush out. Her heart jumped again, and her breathing quickened. Life was completely lost, and Ellie (in her mind) would die all on her own, try to do what big girls do.

Ellie heard the Click, Click, Click, a familiar and annoying sound. Her heart fluttered for a moment, maybe things could be right, and maybe Dennis would help her, and maybe they could both be alright. Fat chance. He was still Dennis and he was still a bully. Ellie coiled her fist and her heart sank right back down into her stomach. Why was he so mean to her; she'd done nothing to him (besides that little outburst of aggression a few minutes ago). "You can't be King, it's not your birth right, stupid!" Ellie knew that really didn't make a difference, but that was as good of a come back as she could think of. Why was he such an ass? A big headed ass at that. Ellie's fist tightened again, but he wanted her to follow him. If she did that she wouldn't be alone, and if he wanted her to follow, maybe he didn't want to be alone either. But, Ellie didn't want to look like he could just tell her what to do. But, she had to make a decision. Pride or Life. After all the she was always one to think of the worst and be over dramatic. Being bullied didn't seem as bad and dying to her.

"I'll do what I want." her voice was low, she tried to seem controlled." You can't boss me around. I'll follow you, but I'll eat what I want." she gave a final nod, letting him know, that was that.