By Noah Martinez
Day 1 – A New Day
Eloise gazes at her wall of awards. Best Hunted 1600, Salem’s Best 1692, Killinnovation 1880, Undercover Killers 1930, and so many more fill her room like wallpaper. One would assume she’d be proud of her awards–perhaps go up to them each morning to remind herself of how cool she is, or check herself out in the mirror–yet she stands there, motionless. Like every morning, her eyes glide along the walls and shelves and land in the same place off to the side near her door. She stares down at her Walmart uniform as it stares back. She fights the disgusted expression her face naturally makes and tries to force it into a half-smile, and lets out a reluctant “Sigh”. Actually, she says ‘sigh’ out loud, because she thinks that’s what’s hip’. She’s alone in her room. It’s quite sad. She pours Mhys, her cat, a bowl of unidentifiable red meat and gets ready for work.
“Eloise! Guess what!” The what being held out in the most valley girl, Southern voice you could think of.
“What, Gladys?” Eloise snaps while trying to pay attention to the road. These FaceTime calls with her friend have become quite the chore.
“I was just down on highway ˆ∑∆∂ doin’ my weekly grocery run, and I just find a random twelve-year-old sittin’, waitin’ to be eatin’! I think I accidentally left my underworld gate open, which, I know we’re-”
“Not supposed to be doing!”
“Not supposed to do, yes, I know. But c’mon! Free lunch and he counts toward my tracker for award season! It’s such a wonderful day, ain’t it?” Gladys had taken over the spotlight of Eloise’s child-eating accolades ever since Eloise had hit her ever-present plateau. She’s jealous and she tries to hide it. Tries to… unsuccessfully. She hangs up without a word.
“Will that be all?”
“Errr, I think so!”
“That’ll be $15.33.”
Work today feels unnaturally slow, to Eloise at least. She could somehow sense it.. Something is afoot. The aura is off. The store? No, it wasn’t the work itself, but something… After 4 more seconds of hard thinking while also awkwardly staring at a customer by accident, she realizes that distinct feeling, it’s from her. It’s… disappointment?
“What am I doing?” She yells at herself. “You were one of the most decorated and celebrated witches of the community! You were beloved!” (as in parents and children alike avoided public facilities because of her). “…You used to be someone…”
Eloise instantly decides, in a moment of pure reason–it’s time to claim her life back.
She bursts into her boss’s office, as if finally controlling herself for the first time.
“Gerald! I quit!”
“Uhhh, good morning to you, too, Eloise. Thanks for checking in. Just filing paperwork, how about you?” he inquires in an uninterested tone.
“I want to quit.”
“Yeah, yeah, for sure, just do me a favor and grab me a coffee or something while you’re out, thanks.”
Most days, Gerald’s annoying ‘ignoring’ routine was bad but not too much to handle. Today, Eloise chooses to let it get to her, but she must still move with grace. She walks to the boiling pot as if to pour her boss a cup of coffee with prudence. As she nears the table, she throws the coffee out of the cup onto her boss.
“Eloise!… What are you doing?” Her boss finally looked up to meet her gaze.
She runs out of Walmart with a new sense of pride.
She then turns around to storm back into Gerald’s office, taking the mug once more and thugging the cup into Gerald’s skull.
“Owwwwwww” Gerald groans.
“…Hmm,” He drinks the coffee off his desk. He’s not one to let it go to waste.
“I feel reinvigorated, Mhys! Something has come over me and I can see it already.” She stares at herself in the mirror. “The power, the health, the beauty, and the awards! Today has been a great great day.”
And as she lies herself to sleep satisfied, she prays for a better tomorrow.
Day 2 – Hello Eloise
“No.”
Something is terribly wrong. Somehow, today feels worse than yesterday and the day before that and the day before that.
“Mhys! Help me out here! Why isn’t anything working?”
Typically, a good bit of violence, vitriol, and hatred attune a witch to good health, and enough of it can get her noticed.
“…Meow.”
Mhys can talk, she just prefers to meow when it fits.
“I must regain my power. I must!”
Out on the town, Eloise ravages any man, woman, and child she sees, hoping to reignite that lost spirit buried deep within her, as now, if she lets too much time pass, she herself may do too. As if she didn’t have enough making her hair fall out, she gets a call from Gladys.
“H-”
“NOT NOW GLADYS.” There is no time for chit-chat. Business had to be taken care of. Her phone almost shatters from how forcefully she turns it off. As she runs through the streets, the town begins to resemble the not-peanut-butter half of a peanut-butter-jelly sandwich. The children, however, she must interrogate. After all, they are her main source of nutrition, so if her other sources aren’t working, maybe they know something.
“What are you hiding? I know you and the people of this town hate us, I get it, but it’s just how the world works, and you people are disrupting it. I need you to tell me now, why am… Why am I beginning to die?”
It’s frightening to say out loud, but Eloise is already frightened enough and needs the child to enlighten her. She maintains her haunting composure.
“Do you know where my mom is?” the first child asks.
“No, you varmint. I am asking you, what is happening to me? Are you the ones up to this queasy feeling?”
“I want my mommy!”
“I WILL KILL YOUR MOMMY IF YOU DON’T ANSWER!”
“…mmm …mmmm.” The child bursts into tears.
“Eugh, fine.” Eloise groans and pounces towards the next child.
“You, small one, explain what I am feeling now!” she demands.
“…Dude I’m 19.”
“Okay… well, you still can’t drink so- you- argh!”
The small adult man continues on his way, and Eloise catches the last child on the curiously empty street. She invokes the same inquiry once more.
“you Have -;big noze… like dinasore.” A humorous remark from the child, yes, but Eloise sees something she hadn’t before. Typically, it was see a kid, eat a kid, but she has time to, for once, look into one’s eyes. There is life. There is innocence. And because of her, there’s fear.
Day 3 – The Deal
Eloise gazes at her wall of accolades and awards. Best Hunted 1600, Salem’s Best 1692, Killinnovation 1880, Undercover Killers 1930, and so many more fill her room like wallpaper. This morning, her eyes glide past the walls and shelves, landing upon her underworld transport. Enough is enough. She has made her decision. Before she leaves, she speaks to Mhys.
“I think I understand it now, Mhys. For so long I’ve been chasing that high from the peak of my career–the peak of my life– that now that I’m out of my era, there is nothing else for me to do.”
Mhys responds, “What are you going to do?”
Eloise contemplates telling Mhys what she is planning to do.
“I will miss our… fervent conversations.”
With a deep breath, she enters the gate.
“Lucifer?” She called out. “Hello?”
“Goodmorrow, Eloise. How do you do?”
“What?”
“Sorry, yeah, I don’t know what good morrow means either. I’ve just been trying to sound more academic lately.”
“Oh okay-”
“What brings you here?
“I want out. I think I am done… being a witch?”
This stumps the king. Not once in his thousands of years had he heard a disciple want to leave. After all, immortality? Quite a good deal.
“No.”
“I am not asking Lucie.”
The king is even more stumped. He hadn’t been talked to in this manner before and considered sending his guards to escort her out for her behavior, but, both confused and impressed, he just watched her. Eloise takes off her robe and hat, leaving them at the gate as she fades out back to the surface.
“…Huh?”
Lucie sits puzzled. After a few seconds, however, he gets over it. After all, when you live forever, nothing really matters. Maybe, in those few moments of clarity, that is what Eloise realized.
Tomorrow
Eloise gazes at her wall of accolades and awards. Best Hunted 1600, Salem’s Best 1692, Killinnovation 1880, Undercover Killers 1930, and so many more fill her arms as she takes them down. Unable to use magic any longer, she ardently fills, tapes, and packages each box. A tower of brown looms over her.
Down the hall, she’s surrounded by her cleanup crew, not conjured, but paid for, arduously trying to scrub the stench of remnants of her past awards away. She walks to her bathroom and looks in the mirror. Wrinkles spawn on her face; her skin, no longer green; her hair, a new glistening silver.
It was a new day for Eloise, because today finally meant something more.
“Meow!”
