A World Built By Orphans

Elena burst into laughter, amused by her reaction.

"Relax. I'm just messing with you. I couldn't miss this chance. It laid out perfectly."

"Uh-huh," Maya still couldn't gather back her ability to speak properly.

"Having an old roommate was true, though. It just wasn't exorcism related. She was an obnoxious piece of shit and we didn't work out," she talked while entering the room and switching on the light. "Welcome to The Attic."

"Just to make sure. You didn't sacrifice her to anyone?"

Elena chuckled. "No, silly." She purposely left some ambiguity in her tone, as it clearly wasn't the normal way she talked.

"She's insane," Leo noted.

Fearing he might be right, Maya ignored Leo's comment and entered the room.

To her surprise, the room was huge. She imagined it was at least double the size of a standard room from previous floors. Students here live in this luxury? She didn't expect this much from a house looking this old.

The loft was irregularly shaped but with symmetrically arranged mismatched furniture. One half of the room, to their right, was slightly smaller due to space stolen by the bathroom adjacent to it. It created a small niche entrance space, opening up first to the left side of the room which was incredibly messy and cluttered.

There were two dormer windows on each side, protruding from a steep roof. Under one of them, closer to the entrance, on each side, was a working desk, and under the sloping part of the roof, just in between the windows, was a large wooden bed; too large for a single bed, but not quite wide enough to be a double.

'They must be old and custom-made craftsmanship; not in the standard sizes we have nowadays…'

On the back of the room that ended with a gable, was a giant old wardrobe, designed to fit the slanted space. Mirrored to the other side, as well. Between them was a large window, just opposite the entrance door. Between the two wardrobes was a deep window seat accommodated with some pillows that made it a perfect spot to relax, but already claimed by Elena's clutter.

The left-side wardrobe, too, was overtaken by the mess; unnerving sketches were carelessly taped on its surface, the mirror attached to one door was smudged and, alarmingly, there were knives left sticking from its wooden surface. Maya quietly gulped and let her gaze move on.

The two halves of the room looked nearly identical… excluding an easel and the unsightly clutter consisting of clothing articles, sketches, crumpled papers, and art supplies. Maya looked at the pens and pencils, brushes and paint tubes, canvases; empty and painted, sketchpads, and jars with different contents, imagining they were all something a well-established artist would have around.

At first glance, Maya noticed the sketches and drawings ranged from impressive to deeply disturbing. Her eyes were drawn to the few detailed landscapes and anatomical studies, but quickly skimmed over those that could only be described as stuff of the nightmares.

Elena's artistic flair, combined with the eclectic mix of old, mismatched furniture, lent the room a unique character. Maya felt as if she were intruding on a carefully crafted artist's sanctuary.

As if aware this would be much to process, Elena didn't interrupt Maya as she stood and gawked at her surroundings. She dropped Maya's things that had ended up in her hands onto the empty bed of the clean and pristine half of the room, then tossed herself carelessly onto the mess covering her own bed while grabbing a sketchpad.

"You're an artist," Maya finally uttered her observation, unsure herself if it was an attempt to begin a conversation.

"And a slob," Leo interjected.

"You're very perceptive," Elena complimented her sarcastically. But then stopped herself, like it was to remind herself not to be mean toward her new roommate and continued. "Among other things. It's useful for earning a buck or two as an alternative to shitty jobs they give us."

"Jobs?"

"Yeah. You ain't stayn' here for free. There are no parents to finance you."

It reminded Maya of the harsh reality that she no longer had parents. Her distanced look was noticed by Elena.

"What is it?"

"I had lost my parents, recently."

"Well… get over yourself," Elena said coldly.

Maya was stumped by her harshness. It pushed her closer to tears. Did she do something to deserve such a lack of sympathy from this girl?

"Yes. You heard me. You are not special." She was annoyed by Maya's hurt looks. "Everyone here has lost someone. Either parents, siblings, Aunt Lizzy, or pet turtle. That's why we're all here."

Maya was stung by her brutal and unexpected reaction but realized her egocentric way of thinking. Elena was right. Daria told her everyone here was chosen by The Elements because they suffered. It was being inconsiderate. Elena has lost loved ones too.

"I'm sorry," she said sincerely. "It was insensitive of me. You must've lost parents—people you cared about, as well."

To that, Elena clammed up. It was surprising how it seemed that those words somehow struck the girl and she was beginning to get angry. There she goes assuming things again. But this time Elena said it. She said everyone lost someone.

"Yes, Richard was such a good turtle. The way he died still haunts me," she was giving out fake sobs.

Maya wasn't fooled. This was a girl who would rather throw insensitive jokes than reveal any vulnerability. "You must've cared about them a lot," she continued with assumptions that only irritated Elena further.

She sighed in annoyance before putting on a face.

"Congratulations!" she cheered loudly. "You met the anomaly of this place. I've never lost anyone."

"Th…then why are you so angry?!" Maya snapped.

'This girl… She must live for conflict.' Everything Maya speaks she has to turn on its head.

"Oh? So even a pushover like you has its limits."

"What is your deal? Has anything you've said so far been the truth? Do you just enjoy pushing people around—"

"I've never lost anyone because I never had anyone to begin with. Leave it at that."

Now, when Maya was getting triggered, Elena went on the opposition and was as cool as a cucumber, as if she was stating simple facts.

She gave a snide smile seeing Maya get insecure again, losing her bearings and getting an urge to apologize once again. But the smile quickly died out, and Elena turned away from her, continuing to work on her sketch.

'Never had anyone to begin with? What does that mean? Everyone has someone, even if it is only your parents who gave birth to you. Right? Clearly, she hasn't fallen from the sky. She came from somewhere. Children don't just come from nothing to the age of teenagerhood.'

"I don't understand. What happened to your parents?"

"Hell if I know. I know literally nothing about them."

"B-but, how can that be?"

"What exactly? Having no parents? How could a whiner like you ever understand? Everything about you screams 'sheltered.' It's about time someone burst your bubble, or you won't be able to survive here."

Elena was being mean and dismissive, but Maya couldn't help but somehow pity her. If she was telling the truth, if she never had anyone, it must've been incredibly lonely. She couldn't imagine the loneliness of recently becoming an orphan herself, having followed her whole life.

"Spare me the pity and the puppy eyes. I'm just saying that if you want to whine about your parents, do it somewhere else."

"Elena, I'm sorry," Maya said, but Elena didn't care about her sheepish apology.

They were left in an awkward silence.

"So, how did you end up here?" Maya was curious.

She received a strange look.

"Is that a sensitive subject?"

"Not really. I ran into Daria and simply tagged along."

Maya didn't know what she expected to hear, but that simply couldn't be it. Remembering how she struggled to accept Daria's proposal — and possibly would never accept it if she weren't in such a heavy state of derealization — Maya would never dare to follow a stranger based on such a bogus story.

"There has to be more to it."

Elena made it sound as if she came here on a whim, simply because she had nothing better to do. If that were true then it was somehow sad in its own way.

'I guess I also had nothing better to do when I made my decision.'

"Had we enough of sob stories? You know, you don't have to stand here like you're waiting for a bus. It's your room. You can unpack or, whatever."