I watched. With dried, burning eyes and a sore throat, I watched.
I can't remember how or when it started, but I remember a lot of other things. I remember his tiny hands touching the glass when it was clear. I remember him getting stronger, taller, smarter. I remember the girls, every one of them. The one with the eye patch, the twins with the freckles, the dancer, that one with too much makeup, as I said, every one, because I watched.
One of the girls stayed. I couldn't understand why. She just didn't go and so Iwatched her for a long time. I watched her brown skin and hazel eyes. She liked to stare at the glass. So slim, so joyful... mostly. In a flash her belly grew and then there was another him. Just like the one that used to be little. With the tiny hands.
There were happiness. Lullabies every night. For a short time.
I watched the flames rising, licking the glass. There was a crack, but then again everything on the other side was cracking too, flaming, transforming into ambers and ashes.
The girl and him and the little him. I watched them screaming, but just for a little moment. Then there was people and after that, nothing. The glass wasn't clear anymore, and it was cracked, a little. I could even try to break it, but no. No. I was used to watch.
Silence and darkness. Spiders and bugs. And then the man in rags. He stared at me once and I felt he was a stranger, just like me. He smiled with yellowed sharp theet and danced and sang of sins and blood. He ignored me after that.
And then he brought the first kid and ate him quickly. He ripped his tiny hands first as the boy cried and begged, then he ate everything else. The boy screamed just for a little moment, just like the girl, him and the little him. I didn't like it. And I din't like the second one, also a boy. Or any of the girls. I didn't like the way he played with them before eating them or how he used to leave certain bones for the end.
I stopped watching. I touched the crack on the smoked glass and knew that I could get out without breaking it. I could just step through. And I did when the man in rags brought another little one.
Going out was strange. Everything was so slow.
The man couldn't even look at me before having his guts spilled over the floor. And he begged so slowly that it was hard to understand what he meant. But I had no mercy as he hadn't none for the other little ones. I don't eat, so just ripped him appart in little pieces.
And then I looked at the little one. A girl. Sweet one but so slow as well. And she begged and I told her she was safe now, but she continued the slow crying and talking. I couldn't speak slower until I decided to sing one of the lullabies, about dreamy angels and sweet dreams. It was slow enough. Then I talked to her in my singing voice and she understood that everything was alright.
She left... slowly.
I got back to the glass, but in the outside it reflected the world and reflected me. My eyes looked like deep starry nights and my hair floated all around me and my grayish skin. I was... am... a weird one. But is not bad.
I slipped back through the crack and time returned to normal. The little one returned and then became taller, stronger. She and others moved the glass with me inside. They moved my home. And she looked at me and talked and kept changing and her belly grew and the little her started growing and asked about the glass and why the little girl loves it and the little girl said that it was because it had an angel inside and that she would tell her the story of how the angel defeated the evil ogre and saved her.
She told the story, she told a lot of stories. The little her became more like her in the moments after I saved her. She grew weak, as little she grew strong. She went to sleep and I rushed out through the crack and sang the lullaby, because the girl withered too much and she wouldn't wake again.
And she left in peace, not screaming as he and the girl and the other he did. So my eyes felt wet. And there were silver tears and I had no longer burning eyes and my throath felt a lot better.
I returned to the glass, through the crack, and kept watching.
Little she brought a little one that looks a lot like the boy I saw her kissing.