Disclaimer: I do not own The Witch's House or its characters. If I did then Viola would be a alive and Ellen and she would be hella gay.
Ellen turned away from the sad, twisted image of the girl sprawled upon the ground. She followed her new father on strong legs. Had she ever walked on legs this strong before, she wondered. She could not remember the time before being bedridden. She wanted to take in all her new freedoms, but she had to be cautious. She was supposed to be Viola and so would have to play the part. Luckily for her, Viola's memories remained inside the body. She knew how she should behave and address her father.
Frank prepared the meal that night, claiming, pleading, that she should rest after her traumatizing experience. She could have laughed at the irony of his worry. What would he do if he ever found out that she was the cause of his daughter's trauma? It was true, however, that she was recovering from trauma herself. Her entire existence had been filled with trauma. She took in the smells of stew and cornbread. Ellen let the fragrance linger in her nostrils. She had never smelled anything tasty in such a long time. She had never been able to eat with her parents at the table. Her food was always cold by the time she received it. And after her parents "accident," her food had become even less appetizing. She hesitantly reached for a piece of cornbread feeling its grainy texture.
"Is something wrong, Viola?"
She had not realized she had been staring for so long. "No, nothing. Just after such a frightful experience, I feel more appreciative of these simple things such as this cornbread's texture."
"That makes sense, considering how awful it must have been inside that house. But, wow, Viola! I have never heard you sound so much like an adult before" He laughed, which caused Ellen to blush. She had not meant to be so honest in her words.
After supper, Frank sent Ellen to bed in order to rest. Ellen wanted anything than to sleep, though. She listened carefully at the bedroom door for signs of Frank heading to bed himself. Feeling impatient, she decided to cast a simple sleeping spell on him. Free at last, she raced out of the house not bothering to close the door. She took in the evening air, the smell, the sights, the sounds. It was awe-inspiring. An endless sea of stars glistened down at her. She had often stared at the starts through her bedroom window, but it had never been like this. She had never been so happy to be alive.
Ellen closed her eyes, but instead of seeing blackness, she saw her body, her old body. Her purple hair fell about disheveled, her eyes were gaping abysses, and blood was everywhere. Everywhere. It just kept oozing out, filling all of her vision. She felt as if it was filling her soul. A scream clawed its way up her throat, but no sound could be heard. She felt her body crumple to the ground. The pull of hands brought her back to the moment. Now she was screaming. Screaming loudly. The red of blood oozed away giving way for a vision of Frank kneeling.
"Viloa!" He pulled her into a tight hug, stilling her cries.
What just happened, she wondered. She caught the oncoming rays of sunlight. How long had she been in that hell? She felt shaken as he continued to hold her, helped her make her way back indoors and to the bed that she had not yet even so much as touched. Her limbs felt heavy when he placed her there, and though her eyelids were still stained with redness, she easily slipped into sleep nonetheless.
Ellen. The name that she had forsaken. The life that she had forsaken. Who's voice would know her by that name? She knew of no one living besides a lanky, black cat who's voice is full, chocolatey, unlike the light, milkyness that reached her ears.
Ellen, the same voice repeated on empty air. It was nearer now, and Ellen developed an inclination of who the speaker might be. But that was impossible. Or at least it should have been.
Then a shadowy figure grows closer, and blond hair glints in euphorical light. It is. She froze, feeling real fear clawing in her throat. "Viola," she croaked.
Ellen. The blond nodded, face unreadable.
"What do you want? Leave me be. You are dead! I am you now!"
The girl looked disappointed. I grieve for you. Such a pitiful life, even now.
"What do you mean by that? I am more than you ever were. I have enough power to create whatever I desire."
And what is it that you desire, Ellen?
Ellen stared, body heavy again. "Freedom."
The girl laughed making Ellen glare. Sorry, but I find that hard to believe. Pretending to me doesn't exactly give you the most freedom. You could easily leave Father, so, why stay?
"I…" She didn't know. Perhaps family really was something that she had desired. But it didn't feel right on her tongue.
It is regrettable. I really did want to be your friend, you know. The girl smiled sadly, a stray tear slipping down her face.
Ellen woke to peculiar tears in her eyes. Why would she cry from such an occurrence? She was not that weak. She tried to put the dream out of her mind throughout the day, but it resided near the forefront of her thoughts like a persistent ghost. She caught herself wishing that Viola were a ghost haunting her. At least then she could tell her to leave her damned well alone. But as things stood, she could say nothing. There could be no further closure of any kind, and she wondered if that is what it was she sought. But that is something that Frank could never give her, the only person departed from the world. What would she say to her if she could? She had no idea, and that indecisiveness persisted like an annoying fly that would not die.
Days turned into months, yet her feelings of disquiet only grew. She began to question her own actions. Why had she let Viola die again? It had not been her hand, but surely it had been her will. She tried to play the regret off with the knowledge that that body had not been worth maintaining. It had provided nothing for her besides endless pain. Letting Viola die had been the merciful thing to do. For Ellen, the pain had been so excruciating. Endless pain. Endless pain. That had been her world. It had clouded her head. Relief had been her only concern. Who had cared about the fate of a naive little girl?
Now she realized the loneliness that was her life. All she had was a cat long gone, a father devoted to a memory, and a golden phantom looming over her head. It was strange how she wanted to touch that phantom to claim it once again as her possession, but she also wished it would leave her alone for its presence only reminded her of the fact that she couldn't. She wasn't sure what she wanted from Viola, perhaps the friendship she had feigned, but she desired her presence regardless.
Frank's company no longer held the triumph it once did. Her stomach churned every time he called her by that name. She longed to shout at him that her name was Ellen. She longed to scream out her evil deeds. To watch his face as he processed her word's meaning. But then she would lose another of her limited attachments. So, she remained quiet. Continued acting.
It wasn't until a full year had passed that Ellen became resolute enough to admit her faults. She needed Viola whether she liked it or not. She stood surrounded by the forest's trees—they increased her magic's potency. Frank had fallen under her sleeping spell, but she was still opposed to wasting any more time, so she raised her hands and took a deep breath almost immediately.
Calling loudly, relieved that Frank chose to live in such an isolated location, she moved her hands in summoning circles. "Viola, girl of golden hair and fair complexion!" The air around her picked up to a steady breeze. "Friend to all and selfless to a fault! The real daughter of Frank and friend of mine! I call you here from the grave!" The swirling wind was strong enough to challenge her steady stance. "Though no physical form is mine to give, take this energy as payment!" The wind was at a deafening roar. Ellen threw down her hands as purple energy surged forth into the breeze. It spun faster and faster until all was shrouded in air currents. Then it blew away leaving stillness and a golden silhouette in its wake.
"Viola?" she asked meekly, meeker than she'd ever heard her voice before.
"Ellen." Viola's voice was soft and tender.
Ellen could feel tears welling in her eyes. She batted them away. "I wanted to apologize. You know, for before. I didn't mean to-"
"It's okay."
Ellen shook her head. "But, I lied to you. You gave me nothing but kindness, and I betrayed you." Her voice was ragged now with emotion that had long been held back.
"I understand why you did it. I don't hate you. Live your life for me."
"No." Ellen shook her head. "This year has been already been a miracle. With my power I'm sure that I can redo the body transfer."
"I no longer have a body to transfer with. It is okay, Ellen. All I would ask of you is that you don't forget me or our friendship."
Ellen could no longer hold in her tears. "Do you still call it a friendship? Yet I never thought of it as such."
Her laughter was of twinkling bells. "Silly. What matters is the present. What matters is how we both feel right now." She smiled dazzlingly as her form floated closer, and she lifted a translucent hand to the witch's face. "No more tears. We will be together again one day."
"But I miss you. I miss you so much!"
"I know, I know," she cooed, stroking the girl's cheek with silky fingers.
"I don't want to be alone anymore."
"You have Father."
"No. I want someone to know me for me. Like you did."
"I see." The apparition grew quiet. "Then tell him."
"No!" Ellen looked horrified. "Do you know how he would react to realizing that he killed you? I could never."
Viola smiled cheerfully again. "See. You have changed. Go make new friends. There is an entire world out there for you to explore. Be your real self, and I'm sure you'll make friends in no time."
The idea sounded wonderful, but it scared her. All she'd ever known was her parents' house and now Frank's. She had only ever conversed with a handful of people. How could she fare on her own out there?"
"Don't fret. I'll always be looking out for you." Warmth filled Ellen, and she found herself nodding. "But don't get too close to anyone!" Viola exclaimed suddenly. "When you die, it's me you are coming to see. You owe me that much."
Ellen could feel real laughter bubbling forth from Viola's adorable pouting expression. "Yes, yes. Of course," she said in a singsong voice. They settled into a pleasant silence until Ellen asked, "Can't I call upon you again?"
Viola lowered her head sadly. "You shouldn't."
"Why not?"
"Because, you need to move on with your life. Otherwise you will never truly live. You will be too attached to the past. To your illness. To your pain and trauma."
"It would be worth it."
"No. Don't. Just…I'll be waiting." Her form floated away becoming hazier as it went.
"Wait! I-Goodbye!" Ellen called frantically, watching as her only friend's image evaporated and the evening nature noises resumed. Loneliness resettled in her heart, but she vowed that she would try her best to do as Viola wished of her. She needed to pay her time after all.