Over the years we grew closer and learned more of each other. I would prefer to say that it was I who knew more about her that she did I but I regret to inform you that she can be particularly perceptive in some areas and her face which rarely frowns proves for a perfect cover for her thoughts.
Intriguingly, she has a rare condition known as haemolacria, in which she cries tears of blood. Rather ironic for her current situation, but it never proved much problem for her social life as a child for, as with most children who choose to hide their true intentions, she rarely showed her weak side, thus rarely crying. Though on the rare occasions that tears did flow, much panic arose among her fellow humans.
As I have learned over the years, humans tend to be particularly squeamish when fronted on what lies within them. I.e. a creature's exposed muscle, their fellow humans entrails, or more commonly, blood. I find this point particularly interesting, for in the case of their diet, they see these things on a daily basis. They eat the meat of animals down to their bones and feeding on their entrails in the form of sausages and "hot dogs", most of which they prepare themselves. Or maybe I am confusing the recipe of the modern "hot dog" with that of the sausages prior to the industrial era. Perhaps I shall consult this "internet" that Eva has recently introduced me to.
All that aside, Eva seemed to be a relatively normal child with a fairly well off childhood, aside from her random bouts of profanity. By "profanity" I do not mean the name calling of others or the use of such words that allude to sex, female dogs, and mules, but "profanity" as in vulgar statements, often involving unpleasant situations, the likes of which I would prefer not to be a part of.
Her profanities were mainly spoken in times of extreme anger or stress, particularly around her "pre teen years" as I have been informed they are called, in which things started taking a turn for the way they are at present.
During those years she was often angry or stressed, as I was often informed, because of the metal braces she was forced to wear on her teeth, which she commonly told me were painful and annoying.
At one point she confronted me with a certain problem of hers. "Goo," she cried to me one night, as nights were our most constant point of contact. "I keep seeing these shadow people running around and there are these weird things that crawl on the walls like spiders but they're not spiders. They just randomly appear out of nowhere and it's really scary." I scowled in concern as I spotted the beginnings of tears in her eyes.
Until this point I had assumed she saw the same world I did, so when she confronted me with this fear of hers it should come as no shock to you that I was surprised and oddly disappointed.
I rubbed her head to comfort her, now almost my height. "Do not worry," I said, looking her in the eyes. "These are normal things where I am from. Trust in me that they are harmless lest you anger them." She nodded with a smile, my words seemingly culling her fear.
"If you would like, I could keep them away." I offered.
She sniffed, wiping the tears from her eyes. "I think I'll be fine." She muttered.
"Are you positive?" I checked, knowing full well that she often times ignored her own wants and needs as not to cause problems for others.
She nodded again, "Yeah."
"Are you HIV positive?"
She gave out a weak laugh.
She had shown me a video of a small part of a show with that quote in it a few weeks prior and I had recalled her laughing so hard she started to cry.
"Well, good night, little one." I smiled, pushing her to her bed and tucking her in. She seemed to always like this.
"Good night." She whispered as I flicked off her lights and climbed out the window. I know, not the most prevalent entrance, but it is more straight forward and lets me come and go whenever I please.
As time wore on, I spotted a noticeable change in Eva's behavior: she was becoming more violent. She had always been one in favor of rough housing, but had she started attacking others more for rather trivial reasons and was using more profanity than ever.
"Are you alright?" I had once asked her.
"Hm? Yes, why?" She responded in confusion, her face telling me she was going over what she could have done wrong to elicit such a question.
"Ah, it's simply that you have recently been more physical with your peers than usual, I was wondering if there was something bothering you."
"Oh! No." She responded with a slight shake of her head. "I just don't like people touching me now for some reason."
"Oh," I responded, shocked at her rather simple answer. "Then would you prefer for me to stop patting your head?" I questioned.
Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, "Oh! No! It's fine, there are certain people I'm OK with touching me." She responded.
"Alright then." I nodded.
As with most children her age, she was starting to contemplate about life, especially with the introduction of future opportunities given to them by the education system. Along with the rest of her generation, she was starting to go through a phase of self pity and a certain rebellion against the world. This coupled with her violence problem did not end well, or at least, not for those around her.