Liz was holding her grocery bag with pepper spray and bug spray canisters in her hand. There was also a pair of knives.
We stood in front of a small convenience store at an intersection.
The girl suddenly said, "Didn't think you'd need one. I thought one knife was enough."
My heart jumped. I responded, trying to look calm, "It's for self-defense."
"Huh." She gave me a curious look, but said nothing.
I suddenly remembered. "You haven't eaten since we met at the park yesterday."
"I'm not hungry."
She wasn't particularly excited by my suggestion that we should get some food; you'd start to lose all interest in eating anything when you realized that you'd be twisting your gut and puking it out later anyway. The novelty of the taste of food, no matter how great, was not worth the reek of vomit and feces that came after.
In a sense, what would usually be considered to humans one of the gifts of life was torture to another species.
"Aren't you hungry?" she asked.
I'm okay, I said, telling her I'd rather go home and lie down for a while.
"Come back inside." She extended the hand that was holding the grocery bag, grabbed my wrist and pulled me through the sliding glass door back into the shop. "Let's go get some sandwiches before we leave."
"I thought you're not hungry." I tried to resist her tug but she pulled me in anyway.
Somehow, she had become so much stronger.
It was like I was a child being dragged along by a grown man. Her grip was almost impossible to tear away from. It was nothing like when we were at the park or like a few hours ago when we were running from the spider.
"Maybe I am a little hungry," she said.
If she could've just put a bit more conviction in those words—one or two percent would suffice—I might've believed her.
"Why am I the only one with the sandwiches?" I asked her.
"My appetite's gone again," she said with a deadpan expression.
"It came and went in five seconds? When will it come back, like now?"
"You're clairvoyant. I'm really hungry, so you'll have to give me your share."
"You brought me in here so I can watch you eat??" I then tried to lower my tone to not attract other people's attention. "Do you kids get off of messing with your elders by doing stuff like this?"
"Do what? Wait, are you crying?"
"I'm not crying."
"Why are you crying?" She looked concerned but also half-curious.
"I'm not crying. What the hell are you talking about?"
"I mean... All right. If you shed the fourth drop, I'll let you have small corner of this one." She pinched off a piece of the crust and showed it to me.
"The fourth drop?" It sounded like a threat. And I didn't know you could count tear drops—not that I was crying. "You didn't even pay for them!"
"It's gone again." She must be referring to her appetite. "You can have them." She put the sandwich back on the table.
"..."
"I'm not actually hungry, but you should eat. I need to keep an empty stomach."
"Huh, why?"
"Just eat."
"I can take care of myself," I said, seriously feeling offended now.
I reached out for the sandwich with the missing corner and took a bite.
She just sat back on her chair and watched, like she was minding a child.
I don't need your pity.
She looked at me for a while. I tried to avoid her gaze, which had begun to harden.
"Is something wrong?" she asked me.
My body became stiff. "What?"
"Something happened at the station."
My heart was pounding in my chest.
Suddenly, she leaned in.
"Is there something you're hiding from me?"
Those big, black, round eyes were looking at me as if their owner wanted to eat me alive.
I could hear the pulse in my left ear.
Whether or not souls existed, I was sure those eyes had pierced through my hideous wrinkled skin and seen the fat, muscle, and bone underneath.
My grip tightened as I took another bite of the sandwich, trying to focus on the fatty taste of cheese to calm myself.
Pierce the heart of the curse.
"Why would I need to hide anything from you?" I said, looking offended. Not too much eye contact, but don't turn away now. Blink a few times, avoid pressing your lips.
"You seem off, like you've been troubled by something after we left the station." Those pupils had never deviated from mine for even a fraction of a second. "Back there, the way you looked at me was different."
I could not turn and look away for a single moment.
"It felt like disdain." She dropped the word casually.
"Why would I hate you?"
"That's right. It would be unfair to hold a grudge against someone who's never done anything to you, unless you suspect that they might have done something wrong."
"Look." With a sigh, I shook my head like I was getting tired of this back-and-forth, hopelessly trying to loosen up my petrified body. "It's been two days but we've been through a lot. I have no reason to hate you. If I did, I would have no problem hiding it."
Something was on her mind.
Her gaze was so intense; if I'd looked away from her now, the sky might've collapsed on me. It would come crashing down and then everything would be over.
"I believe you." She finally averted my eyes, instead turning to the sandwich on the table. "But something must have happened at the station. You're not going to tell me."
"Tell you what? Nothing happened."
I screwed up.
I might have given it away when I put it like that.
No, it's fine. It was a natural response.
How did she figure it out, anyway? I was sure that no one knew about the event. Not even the leaves on the trees were moving the moment it happened.
But then again, how would I know that the man was speaking the truth? And why was there a need for him to lie in the first place?
What choice did I have?
She wasn't human.
If fate forced us to choose between ourselves and the other—
Then, as I was about to stand up to leave, she held on my wrist, fixing it on the table. The momentum caused tremendous pressure in the discs on my lower back. I fought the urge to wince but managed to keep a straight face.
My stomach churned as my heart started to beat violently in my chest.
She really was getting stronger.
"Wait a minute," she said.
"What?"
I slowly sat back in my chair.
Five minutes. She signaled with her hand as she stood up and headed to the bathroom.
I stared at the grocery bag on the table.
Maybe this would be justice for the real Liz as well.
Fate was cruel enough to bring you into this world, and then suddenly take life away from you just like that.
Pierce the heart of the curse.
Maybe this is what you would have wanted.
I shut my eyes and covered my face with my hands.
What am I even thinking right now?
Then something fell on the table. I opened my eyes to see a bag of liquid plop down and roll towards me.
A bag of vomit.
She was standing in a way so that others wouldn't be able to see it.
White light in the room penetrated the transparent bag and showed its content—yellow and black liquid flaked with debris settling at the bottom like feathers.
"There's no way this would solve your problem," her voice was trailing off as she looked away, embarrassed, "but you should still try your luck."
So this was why she hadn't been eating.
She pushed the bag forward in my direction. It bobbed and lolled back and forth to the impact of her hand. "Don't give up."
I thought what she said was kind of funny. "Why shouldn't I?"
"Because..." I could barely hear her voice now.
"Because what?"
"I don't want to lose a good friend."
"..."
Pierce the heart of the curse?
I hated to admit this.
But I couldn't do it.
Am I doing the right thing? I thought to myself. Maybe it's already too late.
"This is all I can do for you," she tapped the ball of liquid. "My parting gift."
Whatever the case, I really was a coward. I might even come to regret this decision one day.
"Thanks," I said to her.
"Fifth tear drop."
"Stop it, you're being weird."