Work Text:
Entry: 26
It has been a long time since I’ve tried to eat this human, the human's emotions. It had been a long time since I noticed that this human was bland, dry, boring, and void. I can only taste the dullness, the emptiness of this human. This entry marks the 24th attempt to add “seasoning” to this person.
It first startled me, how bland this woman is, even the loneliest people have found some joy in their life, but this woman.
I hear the door unlock, she can’t see me, but I can see her. I am an emotion-eating monster, she is a human, a sad, plain, empty human. She walks over to the couch, sitting beside me as I write this entry. I hear her sigh, almost as if she’s defeated. I see an envelope in her hands, it has a psychiatrist's address on it.
She opened it. Everything makes sense now — this woman has chronic depression. I can hear her breath becomes shakier as she curls into herself beside me, I wish to comfort her, yet I can’t — I will try, for her.
This marks the 24th attempt at helping this woman, I wrap my arm around her in a side hug.
This marks the first time I actually affected her. Her eyes widened and look to the shoulder my hand is on. She can feel me, she can feel me, she can feel me, she can feel me.
“Hello?” She says to open air, looking around. I watch as the woman looks around with puffy and red eyes.
“Hello,” I try to tell her, yet it reaches deaf ears, she can’t hear me, but she can feel me. “Hello,” I whisper, “Hello, hello, hello…”