Don't let them know you can see

12

Ethan, noticing my lack of enthusiasm, set the soup bowl down and scooped up a spoonful, placing it before me. The soup's murky appearance and oily surface were off-putting. "Come on, have some," he urged, bringing the spoon to my lips. I turned my face away in silent refusal, the very sight of it making my stomach churn.

Ethan then lifted the entire bowl to show me, attempting to coax me into eating by presenting the contents more closely. The sight of something unidentifiable in the soup, dark and fuzzy, was enough to make me gag. "You once admired the beauty of Sophie's eyes," Ethan said, advancing the spoon towards me, a statement that sent chills down my spine. I shoved the spoon away and fell from the chair, overcome by nausea.

The implication was horrifying. Ethan set the spoon down and crouched to comfort me, his face a mask of concern. "They say like cures like, and look, after consuming what I prepared, your sight returned," he reasoned, oblivious to my horror. "Perhaps you haven't fully regained your memory. I'll make you some fresh almond pudding; it might help," he mused, his initial joy turning into disappointment.

Muttering to himself, Ethan retreated to the kitchen, the sound of chopping echoing once again. I crawled towards the door, tears and mucus blending on my face, struggling to turn the handle only to find it locked tight. Panic set in as I realized my escape was blocked. "I need to get out, someone help me!" I thought desperately, pounding on the door, hoping to alert the neighbors and summon help.