Vanilla Dusk ✓

Life Part 6

'S-S-e-ar-ch.'

They place the box of replenishments near the bed leg. Shann, determined to dig out more relevant information of Elis's past, begins a thorough search in this room. He has a peculiar feeling that this room might belong to Elis. It's plain, white and very much secluded, resembling the aura of solitude surrounding Elis.

There is a locked drawer under the nightstand and Shann has been trying to pry it open. He even invites Elis to look for the key together. When they can't find anything useful, Elis simply smashes the drawer with his fist.

'Are you an idiot?' says Shann. 'You're going to get a bruise.'

Elis wants to tell him that he is never bruised and creatures like him don't get hurt, but right after his fist collides with the wooden furniture, he gasps and collapses, hugging his aching fist with another hand.

'Are you alright?' asks Shann, kneeling down beside him.

His knuckles are swollen and for the first time in five years, he is able to feel the pain. It's unpleasant and tear-jerking. Something warm begins to prickle his eyes.

'Oh, come on, let's patch you up,' sighs Shann as he leads Elis back to the bed and starts tending to his wound. After wrapping Elis's hand, they pull open the broken drawer and find a digital photo album and a digital diary. Shann picks up the thin, transparent screen and presses the tiny switch at the bottom. Immediately, the screen flickers and a series of albums pop out. Shann clicks onto them one by one, starting from the photos displaying Elis as a child. As a toddler, Elis was chubby and sulky, always whining or pouting in front of the camera. He carried a stuffed penguin with him everywhere, sucked his thumb in his sleep and shoved away the bowl whenever it was filled with cabbages. His complexion was less pale then but as he grew older and began his primary school, his light blond hair turned paler alongside his face. He still fidgeted and looked elsewhere when taking a photo. He looked much leaner in his secondary, having started playing a few sports. He still pouted and blushed a lot, sometimes even turning away from the camera. He always wore a grey hand-knitted cardigan and there are quite a lot of photos of him playing the violin for the orchestra.

'You're not that photogenic, are you?' Shann snickers. 'You look like you're always forced into this.'

Elis lowers his head, his face on fire.

'Johan – that's your brother's name,' says Shann as he traces different names in the caption. 'Mateo – that's your cousin. And your two roommates are Noah and Tonni. Wow, you've been living together since secondary school. That's so sweet. Must have shared lots of wondrous memories together.'

Elis's eyes widen and he snatches the screen from Shann, swiping it repeatedly to scrutinise each photo. As he stares at each photo, an image would pop up in his mind and flash in front of him. He remembers all those solitary nights he spent weeping at night waiting for his parents and in the end, it was always his brother who came into his room to give him a hug, read him bedtime stories or hum him a lullaby. He remembers all those skirmishes he had with his brother when he was still treating him like a baby in secondary school; always checking up on him and teasing him when he failed to confess to his crush. He remembers the boisterous noises Mateo used to fill the house while listening to loud hip-hop at night and throwing sleepover parties every weekend that rendered the house in a disarray; the scolding he often received from Johan whenever he carelessly dropped a décor or a wine glass. He remembers all the times he had to pull an all-nighter because of algebra and Tonni offered to tutor him till he understood every formula and the countless times Noah cooked him his favourite mid-night snack just to keep him motivated.

How can he have forgotten something so important?

This is their house; their shelter; their nest.