Into the Pit

by Scott Cawthon

  Sarah’s mouth was hanging open. Was this thing capable of actual conversation, of actual thought? “Um … you’re welcome?” she said.

  “Now,” Eleanor said, placing her cold, hard little hand on Sarah’s cheek. “You tell me what I can do for you, Sarah.”

  Sarah stared at the robot’s blankly pretty face. “What do you mean?”

  “You did something nice for me. Now I must do something nice for you.” Eleanor cocked her head like an adorable puppy. “What do you want, Sarah? I want to make your wishes come true.”

  “Uh, nothing, really,” Sarah said. It wasn’t the truth, but really, how could this robot make her wishes come true?

  “Everybody wants something,” Eleanor said, brushing Sarah’s hair away from her face. “What do you want, Sarah?”

  Sarah took a deep breath. She looked at the images of models and actresses and pop stars on her walls. She might as well say it. Eleanor was a robot; she wouldn’t judge her. “I want …,” she whispered, feeling embarrassed. “I want … to be beautiful.”

  Eleanor clapped her hands. “To be beautiful! What a wonderful wish! But it is a large wish, Sarah, and I am petite. Give me twenty-four hours, and I will have a plan to start making this wish come true.”

  “Okay, sure,” Sarah said. But she didn’t believe for one minute that this robot had the ability to transform her looks. She couldn’t even quite believe that she was having a real conversation with it.

  * * *

  When Sarah woke up the next morning, Eleanor was standing in the corner as still and lifeless as the other decorative objects in Sarah’s room, no more alive than the stuffed Freddy Fazbear she’d had on her bed since she was six. Maybe the conversation with Eleanor had just been a particularly vivid dream.

  * * *

  That afternoon, when Sarah got home from school, Eleanor pivoted her waist, raised and lowered her arms, and moved smoothly over to Sarah. “I made you something, Sarah,” she said. Eleanor put her hands behind her back and produced a necklace. It was a chunky silver chain with a large, cartoonish silver heart pendant dangling from it. It was unusual. Pretty.

  “You made this for me?” Sarah said.

  “I did,” Eleanor said. “I want you to make me a promise. I want you to put this necklace on and never, ever take it off. Do you promise you’ll keep it on, always?”

  “I promise,” Sarah said. “Thank you for making it for me. It’s beautiful.”

  “And you will be beautiful, too,” Eleanor said. “Since your wish is so big, Sarah, I can only grant it a little at a time. But if you wear this necklace and keep it on, each morning when you wake up you’ll be a little more beautiful than the day before.” Eleanor held out the necklace, and Sarah took it.

  “Okay, thanks,” Sarah said, not believing Eleanor for a minute. But she put on the necklace anyway because it was pretty.

  “It looks good on you,” Eleanor said. “Now for the necklace to work, you have to let me sing you to sleep.”

  “Like, now?” Sarah asked.

  Eleanor nodded.

  “It’s early, though. Mom isn’t even home from work yet—”

  “For the necklace to work, you have to let me sing you to sleep,” Eleanor repeated.

  “Well, I guess I could take a little nap,” Sarah said, not entirely sure that she wasn’t already asleep and dreaming.

  “Get into bed,” Eleanor said, moving in her smooth stroll to the side of Sarah’s bed. Even though she was a robot, everything about Eleanor was so feminine and lovely.

  Sarah pulled back the covers and got into bed. Eleanor sat on the edge of the bed and stroked Sarah’s hair with her cold little hand. She sang,

  Go to sleep, go to sleep,

  Go to sleep, my sweet Sarah,

  When you wake, when you wake,

  All your dreams will come true.

  Before Eleanor sang the last note, Sarah was asleep.

  * * *

  Sarah was usually groggy and grumpy in the morning, but this morning she woke up feeling great. Eleanor, she noticed, was standing still in the corner of the room in her inanimate object pose. Somehow Eleanor being there made Sarah feel safe, as if Eleanor were standing guard.

  Maybe Eleanor was just an inanimate object, Sarah thought as she sat up in bed. But then she reached up and felt the silver heart pendant hanging just below her throat. If the necklace was real, the talk she had with Eleanor must be real, too. As she moved her hand away from the necklace, she noticed something else.

  Her arm. Both her arms, actually. They were slimmer and more toned somehow, and their skin, which was usually sallow, was healthy and glowing. The dry patches of skin she was prone to had disappeared, and both arms were soft and smooth to the touch. Even her usually chapped elbows were as soft as kittens’ noses.

  And her fingers—as she touched her arms with them, they felt different, too. She stretched out her hands to inspect them. Her once stubby fingers were long, elegant, and tapered. Her formerly short, nubby nails were now longer than her fingertips and shaped in perfect ovals. Amazingly, they were also painted a gorgeous, soft pink, each nail like a perfect rose petal.

  Sarah ran to the mirror to give herself a full inspection. Same mix and match face, nose, and body, but now with a perfect pair of arms and hands. She thought of Eleanor’s words from last night: “Each morning when you wake up you’ll be a little more beautiful than the day before.”

  Sarah was definitely a little more beautiful. Was this the way it was going to work—that every morning a different part of her would be transformed?

  She darted to the corner where Eleanor was standing. “I love my new arms and hands! Thank you!” she said to the unmoving robot. “So, like, am I going to wake up every morning to one new part until I’m totally transformed?”

  Eleanor didn’t move. Her face kept the same painted-on expression.

  “Well, maybe I’ll just have to wait and see, huh?” Sarah said. “Thanks again.” She stood on tiptoe, kissed the robot on its cold, hard cheek, and then hurried to the kitchen for breakfast.

  Her mom was sitting at the table with a cup of coffee and half a grapefruit. “Wow, I didn’t even have to yell at you to get out of bed this morning,” Mom said. “What’s going on?”

  Sarah shrugged. “I don’t know. I just woke up feeling good. I slept well, I guess.” She poured some cornflakes in a bowl and drenched them with milk.

  “Well, you were already passed out when I got home. I thought about waking you for dinner, but you were out like a light,” Mom said. She watched as Sarah shoveled in cereal. “And you’re eating real food, too. Would you like the other half of this grapefruit?”

  “Sure, thanks,” Sarah said.

  As she reached for the grapefruit, her mom grabbed her hand. “Hey, when did you let your nails grow out?”

  Sarah knew she couldn’t say “last night,” so she said, “Over the past couple of weeks, I guess.”

  “Well, they look fantastic,” Mom said, giving her hand a squeeze before she let it go. “Healthy, too. Have you been taking those vitamins I bought you?”

  Sarah hadn’t been but said yes anyway.

  “Good,” her mom said, smiling. “It’s definitely paying off.”

  After breakfast, Sarah selected a pink shirt that complemented her nail color and took some extra time with her hair and makeup. At school she felt a little less invisible.

  While she was in the restroom washing her hands, Jillian, one of the Beautifuls, came in. She checked her perfect face and hair in the mirror, then glanced down at Sarah’s hands. “Ooh, I love that polish,” she said.

  Sarah was so shocked she could barely manage to say “Thanks.”

  Jillian flounced out of the restroom, no doubt to join her popular friends.

  But she had seen Sarah. She had noticed Sarah, and she had liked at least one thing about her.

  Sarah smiled to herself for the rest of the day.

  * * *

  Eleanor was mostly n
octurnal. When the last of the winter daylight started to fade, she pivoted her waist, moved her arms up and down, and sprang to life.

  “Hello, Sarah,” she said in her tinny little voice. “Are you a little more beautiful today than you were yesterday, just like I promised?”

  “Yes,” Sarah said. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so grateful. “Thank you.”

  Eleanor nodded her head. “Good. And are you a little happier today than you were yesterday?”

  “I am,” said Sarah.

  Eleanor clapped her little hands. “Good. That’s what I want. To grant your wishes and make you happy.”

  Sarah still couldn’t quite believe this all was happening. “That’s really nice of you. But why?”

  “I told you why. You saved me, Sarah. You pulled me out of the trash heap, cleaned me up, and brought me back to life. And so now I want to grant you wishes just like a fairy godmother. Would you like that?” Her voice, while metallic, also sounded kind.

  “Yes,” Sarah said. Who wouldn’t like a fairy godmother?

  “Good,” Eleanor said. “Then never, ever take off that necklace, and let me sing you to sleep. When you wake up you’ll be a little more beautiful than you are today.”

  Sarah hesitated. She knew her mom had thought it was weird when she came home yesterday evening and found Sarah already asleep. If Sarah fell asleep early every night, her mom would worry that she was sick or something. Plus, there was the homework issue. If she stopped doing her homework, that, too, would arouse suspicion, both at home and at school.

  “I’ll let you sing me to sleep,” Sarah said. “But could it be in a few hours? I need to eat dinner with my mom and then do my homework.”

  “If you must,” Eleanor said, sounding a little disappointed. “But it is necessary that you let me put you to sleep as early as possible. It’s important that you get your beauty rest.”

  After a spaghetti dinner and an hour and a half of math and English, Sarah took a quick shower, brushed her teeth, and put on her nightgown. Then she approached Eleanor, who was standing still in her corner.

  “I’m ready,” Sarah said.

  “Then get in bed like a good girl,” Eleanor said.

  Sarah climbed under the covers, and Eleanor came to the bed with her rolling gait. She sat on the edge of the bed and reached out to touch Sarah’s heart-shaped pendant. “Remember to keep it on always and never, ever take it off,” Eleanor said.

  “I’ll remember,” Sarah said.

  Eleanor stroked Sarah’s hair with her cold little hand and sang her lullaby:

  Go to sleep, go to sleep,

  Go to sleep, my sweet Sarah,

  When you wake, when you wake,

  All your dreams will come true.

  Once again, Sarah fell asleep before she knew what hit her.

  She woke feeling refreshed, and when she stood up, she seemed to stand a little straighter, a little prouder, a little … TALLER?

  She ran to the mirror and pulled up her nightgown to expose her legs.

  They were magnificent. She was no longer stubby Mrs. Mix-and-Match with legless feet stuck onto her dumpy body. Her legs were long and shapely, with toned calves and dainty ankles, a model’s legs. When she ran her hands over them, the skin was smooth and sleek. She looked down and noticed that the nails on her perfect, adorable toes were polished the same rosy pink as her fingernails.

  Sarah usually wore jeans to school, the better to cover her stubby limbs. But today she was going to wear a dress. She ran to her closet and took out a lovely lavender dress her mom had bought her last spring. She hadn’t liked the way it looked on her then, but now it showed off her long, shapely arms and legs. She slipped on some ballet flats and admired her reflection in the mirror.

  She still didn’t look exactly how she wanted to (that potato nose had to go, for one thing), but she was definitely making progress. She put on the little bit of makeup she was allowed to wear, brushed her hair, and went down to breakfast.

  Her mom was standing at the stove, stirring eggs in a pan. “Look at you! You’re a knockout!” Mom looked her up and down, smiling. “Is it picture day or something?”

  “No,” Sarah said, sitting down at the table and pouring herself a glass of orange juice. “I just felt like making an effort today.”

  “Is there somebody special you’re making an effort for?” Mom asked in a teasing tone.

  Sarah’s mind wandered for a moment to Mason Blair, but then the image turned into her bumping into him and covering him with salad. “No, just for me, I guess.”

  Mom smiled. “Wow, that’s really nice to hear. Hey, do you want some eggs?”

  Sarah felt a sudden, ravenous hunger. “Sure,” she said.

  Her mom dished up scrambled eggs and toast for each of them and then sat down. “I don’t know what it is,” Mom said, “but for the past couple of days you’ve just seemed so much more mature and easy to talk to.” She sipped her coffee and looked thoughtful. “Maybe you’d just been going through an awkward stage the last year or so, and you’re starting to outgrow it.”

  Sarah smiled. “Yes, I think that may be it.” The awkward stage was my entire life before I met Eleanor, Sarah thought.

  At school, Sarah saw Abby in the hall and felt a pang of missing her. The two of them had so much history together, going back to the days of finger paint and Play-Doh. But Abby was stubborn. If Sarah waited for Abby to apologize to her, it might never happen.

  She walked up to Abby at her locker. “Hey,” Sarah said.

  “Hey.” Abby dug around in her locker and didn’t make eye contact with her.

  “Listen,” Sarah said, “I’m sorry I said those mean things to you the other day.”

  Abby finally looked at her. “Hey, they weren’t wrong. I do still like cartoons and stickers and horses.”

  “Yeah, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Stickers and horses and cartoons are nice. And you’re nice. And I’m sorry. Friends?” She held her hand out, and Abby laughed and hugged her instead.

  When Abby pulled away from the hug, she looked Sarah up and down. “Hey, have you gotten taller or something?”

  There was no way she could explain it. “No, I’m just working on having better posture.”

  “Well, you’re definitely succeeding.”

  * * *

  Eleanor had put Sarah to sleep with her usual sweet song the night before. This morning, still lying in bed, she looked at her body to see if she could tell which parts had gotten an upgrade. To her surprise, the parts of her that had been soft and flabby were now tight and toned, and parts that had been flat and childish were now rounded and feminine.

  Sarah chose a fitted T-shirt and a denim miniskirt to wear to school. Her pitiful little training bra wouldn’t hook anymore, so she made do with the sports bra she wore for gym class. It was a tight fit.

  At breakfast she asked her mom, “Can we maybe go shopping this weekend?”

  “Well, I get paid on Friday, so a little shopping wouldn’t be out of the question,” Mom said, pouring herself more coffee. “Anything in particular you’re looking for?”

  Sarah looked down at her chest, then grinned sheepishly.

  “Oh!” her mom said, sounding startled. “Well, those certainly snuck up on me. Of course we can buy you some bras that fit.” She smiled and shook her head. “I can’t believe how fast you’re growing up.”

  “Neither can I.” It was true.

  “It feels like it happens overnight,” Mom said.

  Because it does, Sarah thought.

  * * *

  At school, Sarah could feel eyes on her. Boys’ eyes. For the first time, she felt noticed. She felt seen. It was dizzying. Exciting.

  In the hall on the way to English, a trio of boys—cute boys—looked at her, then looked at one another and whispered something, then laughed. But it wasn’t a mean or mocking laugh.

  Wondering what they’d said, Sarah looked back at them and bumped right into—no, it couldn’t be
! Not again!—Mason Blair.

  She felt her face flushing and braced herself for him to tell her to watch where she was going … again.

  But instead, he smiled. He had really great teeth, straight and white. “We have to stop bumping into each other like this,” he said.

  “Actually, I think it’s me bumping into you,” Sarah said. “At least I wasn’t carrying a salad this time.”

  “Yeah.” His smile was dazzling. “That was really funny.”

  “Yeah,” Sarah said, though it struck her as strange that he said the salad incident was funny now. When it had happened, he seemed annoyed.

  “Well, if you’re going to keep running into me, I at least need to know your name. I can’t just keep calling you Salad Girl.”

  “I’m Sarah. But you can call me Salad Girl if you want.”

  “Nice to really meet you, Sarah. I’m Mason.”

  “I know.” She could’ve kicked herself. So much for playing it cool.

  “Okay, well, I’ll see you around, Sarah the Salad Girl.” He gave her one last flash of a smile.

  “See you,” Sarah said. She continued on her way to English, but all she could think about was that she’d just had a conversation—a real, human conversation—with Mason Blair.

  Sarah sat down next to Abby in class. “Mason Blair just talked to me,” Sarah whispered. “Like talked-to-me talked to me.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Abby whispered back. “There’s something about you lately.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Abby crinkled her forehead the way she did when she was thinking hard. “I don’t know. I can’t exactly put it into words. It’s like you’re glowing from the inside out.”

  Sarah smiled. “Yeah, that is what it’s like.” But really, it was the changes on the outside that were making her glow inside.

  * * *

  In the evening, after Eleanor did her wake-up movements, Sarah threw her arms around her. It felt strange to hug something so hard and cold, and when Eleanor’s arms encircled Sarah, she felt a flicker of what could have been fear, but she quickly pushed the feeling away. There was nothing to be afraid of. Eleanor was her friend.

  “Eleanor,” Sarah said, drawing back from the hug, “I couldn’t be happier with my new body. It’s perfect. Thank you so much!”