Evelyn [1]

Evelyn raised a hand to her cheek, where she could still feel the crack in her porcelain skin. It was such a small imperfection; the crack trailed from beneath her left eye, down to her jaw, and further down to end at her neck. Evelyn’s glass eyes, reflecting a blood-red shade, turned in her head, regarding her form in the gold-framed mirror before her. Ball-joints in her fingers smoothly rolled to allow her to tighten her grasp around the arm of her chair while she tightly clenched her carefully-crafted teeth. She had been told not to do that, and had even suffered the cracking of all of her molars in the past as a result of it. Still, though, she bit down and whined, not in pain, but in frustration at a lack of pain.

Where a normal woman may keep makeup upon her table, Evelyn kept acrylic paint, and she reached for a small brush as she continued staring in the mirror. She did not want to return to the toy-maker, the only man in the village who could ever help her with damages such as the crack upon her cheek. And so, with a deft hand, Evelyn dipped her brush into white paint, and gently brushed it across the crack, desperate to conceal it. She had done this before, had made repairs upon herself before. When she had fallen down the stairs of her front porch, she used glue and bindings to reapply her right leg, all by herself. Since then, she had learned to stop leaving the house for frivolous purposes, opting instead to remain inside and sew her dresses, all of which rested upon mannequins and hangers around the bedchamber.

By the time Evelyn finished with her careful painting, she heard the familiar knocking of a raven’s beak upon her window. The bird was her only friend, the only one who never found her gaze eerie and her voice unnatural. She rose slowly, her body making quiet clicks as she walked cautiously to the window to allow the bird inside. Not being able to tell the raven as male or female, Evelyn had named the thing “Oksana,” after it had brought her one of her lost fingertips following an accidental slip at the fabric store. Since then, the bird always returned to her, and always with three quiet knocks upon her bedroom window. She opened the window, and the creature politely skipped a few steps forwards, looking Evelyn up and down before fluttering over to her vanity mirror. Oksana seemed baffled by their reflection, and puffed their feathers proudly as if proving dominance to another living bird.

Evelyn laughed, her whispering voice cracking slightly as she made the noise. Oksana, too, laughed; the raven crowed a few times in a way that reminded Evelyn of the winter that she had come to life. She liked the memory, since it returned her to a place where she hadn’t had to worry about cracks on her cheek, or the detachment of her legs. Oksana skipped across the table and lifted from a jewellery box a ruby signet ring, before fluttering onto the chair and leaning forwards. Evelyn tilted her head before she understood; she walked forward, holding her hand out before Oksana carefully placed the ring into her waiting palm. The metal clinked against the porcelain of her hand, and Evelyn slipped it onto her finger with a helpful “Thank you” which strained her throat in spite of its ceramic making.

It was hard to tell if Oksana nodded in acknowledgement of Evelyn’s appreciation, or if the bird simply was seeking some sort of payment for their selection in jewellery. The clever bird relented following Evelyn’s gentle brushing of its feathers, before Evelyn plucked a loose black feather from the bird, carefully. She inspected the feather in her hands, before scratching at her finger with the tip of it. Eventually, Evelyn prised loose the tip of her left pinky finger, and offered the bit to Oksana, curious about the reception more than anything else. In contrast to Evelyn’s expectations, Oksana took the fingertip in their beak before promptly leaning forwards to slot it back into her finger with a quiet crow. The bird shook its head; Evelyn wondered if that was a meaningful gesture, or simply if the raven was smoothing its feathers. Either way, the bird took off with a happy crow, out through Evelyn’s window and off into the purple twilight sky.

Evelyn turned the feather in her hand again, inspecting the fine plumage of the bird which had become her only friend. Evelyn reached to her hair, feeling at the braid of greyish silk threads before carefully slipping Oksana’s feather into her hair and inspecting herself in the mirror. The crack in her face was hidden, for now, though it was inevitable that another would form eventually, perhaps when she had to return to the tailor for a new material. Suddenly, Evelyn craved the company of Oksana again; she hadn’t actually spoken to anyone in twenty-five years except for the bird. Whenever the raven appeared, good things seemed to happen to Evelyn, starting with their introductions when Oksana had returned her fingertip. Evelyn walked to the window, looking into the sky and seeing naught but a swarm of insects gathered against the purplish sky as the sun fell over the city’s skyline. Shutting the window sadly, Evelyn felt a snap as she lowered her arm. The limb tumbled to the floor, unbroken but unfortunately detached. Her signet ring rolled away as the hand which had been wearing it landed upon the carpet, and Evelyn was mortified to feel a tear run down her cheek. For the first time in her long and lifeless life, Evelyn had just cried.