⋆｡˚ LIKE ANIMALS.

        ew.   yuck.   gross.   it’s all venus keeps thinking.   her senses stifled by the onslaught of something she knows to be cologne.   a stench coming even deeper from his bones,   the flesh rotted.   venus knew the name of every vein,   every road the blood could travel inside a body,   every little spark of nerve.   she noted the swallow in his neck,   the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed,   and yet corpses seemed more interesting than him. " it’s giving   ...   rancid meat. ”   venus parroted something she’d heard around the sorority,   teeth snap the lollipop in her mouth right in half with a sickening crunch.   venus doesn’t need to feel around her mouth to know her teeth remained solid.   

        venus is at the dollhouse again,   entranced by the display and the way that blinking can send the dolls to a different room,   following their person counterparts.   “ i like venus doll. ”   venus affirms for the umpteenth time before she puts her back,   pushing a little tiny ( repainted,   surprise for later ) ceramic bunny next to her.   like a little secret between her and venus doll.   venus leans in close when jen is turned away,   still,   whispering to venus doll’s little tiny ear.   “ you can move now,   i’m safe and quiet. ”   venus doll doesn’t move,   but venus still presses her finger to the place in her chest where she might feel beating,   and only pulls away when she doesn’t feel anything for a minute.   she knows it’s there,   it will be,   she can feel it.   the young witch moves from her sprawled legs to something straighter,   going to join jen in her place in person world.   like school,   like parties,   away from this room of their oddities.   it’s blunt when she talks,   because she knows she can be.   jen doesn’t mind what she says much,   as long as it’s pretty.   so she doesn’t talk about teeth,   or gore.   “ even dahlia doll seems all bundled. ”   meaning,   stressed,   meaning,   worried,   meaning even more " it’s my responsibility " than normal.   “ what do you think she’s planning? ”  

        they didn’t.   so she didn’t listen to their warnings of no more ventures into the morgue.   there just had never been anyone else.   now,   there was.   venus,   silent as ever,   wasn’t sure he could see her,   poised as a corpse in the corner,   himself.   a skeleton with skin.   they both just stared.

        “ i can   ...   borrow   ...   ? ”   the copied words ghost across her lips,   the crease between her eyebrows growing,   dark parts of her face growing deeper as she bows her head,   shifting smaller in confusion.   confusion doesn’t feel right.   she’s not confused.   it comes to her as she says it.   she’d seen this,   modeled for her before across screens,   sometimes right in front of her.   in real life, too,   just not her life.   the concept of sisterhood dangled in front of her expecting mouth.   teasing.   but this time,   she’s allowed,   dahlia said so.   but venus can’t get her feet to move forward as she stares at the open closet door,   lined with pretty things to wear.   it still feels like she’s not supposed to touch them.   it reminded her of jen’s dollhouse.   “ oh. ”   if these were doll clothes,   venus stood as still as one.

        every little quake and twitch of winter’s hesitant head,   she notices.   shivers.   when people aren’t sure if they can trust you,   they do that.   venus memorizes which spots along her scalp draw out the most.   mostly,   she just focuses on the precision of tying little black ribbon bows on top of mini pigtails of blonde hair.   she doesn’t tell her sister when she’s stopped,   only hops down from her place behind her on her bed,   watches as winter’s nerves relax.   watching and watching and watching.   “ why does everyone say you’re scary? ”   slips out as venus watches,   still.