Authors: Alivia Anders
bed but I could stil see a peek of the crimson quilted comforter
she would wash every morning to have it clean before bed. The
brass vanity in the corner probably stil held bottles of perfume far
past their dates. Even the bookcase had been covered to protect
each volume she had bound in some of the most expensive leather
she could afford pre-children.
I walked over to her closet and opened the shutters,
I walked over to her closet and opened the shutters,
spotting colections of boxes upon boxes of shoes, photos, her
personal journals and more. I kept my eyes peeled until I spotted it
in the far top right just a hairsbreadth away. A smal ornate music
box filed with everything she had for me. I gave a short little leap
and latched onto the box, faling to the ground with it pressed
tightly to my chest. Mission completed.
Sitting down on the spotless white rug beside her bed I ran
my fingers over the lid of my prize. Jewels of varying sizes
decorated the top of the box and created a shimmering effect
under the thin bars of sunlight that arched through the curtains.
Inside was the same stuff from the last time I'd seen it- a birth
certificate, two smal newborn socks, and one letter folded in half.
Taking the parchment from the box and tucking it safely in my
pocket, I had al I needed for my trip to see Mommy-dearest for
the first time in twelve years.
I took one step through the back door to the house and
stopped dead. Snow stood as high as my hips, maybe even higher.
Typicaly I'd turn around and lock myself inside until it turned to
July but first there was something I had to see for myself.
Flexing my fingers experimentaly I relaxed and let the fire
course through my veins, rushing to my fingertips in seconds.
Pointing directly at the snow I watched a single jet of fire slice right
through it, steam rising.
Excelent.
Hovering my palms just over the snow I let the fire race off
of my skin and melt a perfect path straight to my car. Then for
good measure I cleaned up the rest of the driveway. Driving down
good measure I cleaned up the rest of the driveway. Driving down
and turning onto the highway I kept the folded piece of paper
tightly pressed against my chest.
The two hour drive led me into Portland, the biggest city
within several hours. While it wasn't any New York City it stil had
everything I could expect it to have, like Starbucks and mals and
cramped apartments. I gazed at them pensively, replaying the night
of Chase's betrayal and death with a holow feeling in my chest.
Portland's sanitarium looked nothing like the kind I had
seen in movies for years. A lush and neatly kept landscape roled
around the smal property, the building made of brick instead of
pure white waling. I folowed the signs and parked in one of their
smal side lots to go inside.
Inside it smeled like someone had washed the wals head
to toe in sanitizer, definitely how I had imagined it. The main white
halway past the reception desk seemed to stretch on forever,
doors on either side opening in curiosity to see the stranger walking
in their territory.
I took a seat towards the window in the visiting hal. Smal
tables held scattered checkers and chess pieces and even a few
potted plants sat on the windowsils, desperate for sunlight. The far
wal with no windows held a colage of paintings done by the
patients, al in watercolors. I had started to stand up and see if I
could pick out which one my mother could have done when the
doors across from me opened and a figure shuffled inside.
At first glance she looked nothing like the mother who used
to spend her nights searching the house, desperate to beat the devil
to spend her nights searching the house, desperate to beat the devil
out of her own child. She looked frail and brittle, her skin stretched
thin over her jutting bones. Deep circles creased under her eyes
and blemishes rippled across her skin. But her eyes stil held the
same crisp stare to them as they had al those years ago.
"You won't find anything of mine on their wals," she spoke
in clipped tones and glanced over at the wal. "They find mine too
vulgar
. Might upset the other loonies, you see."
"Good to see you too Mother," I sighed and took my seat
again. She sat two seats away, arms crossed reflexively across her
chest. Almost every picture of my childhood she had her arms in
that pose, but then I never understood why.
She gave me a once-over, her eyes narrowing to slits.
"Good to see the demon has stil kept you alive. Then again, I
doubt you'd do him much good dead."
"No demon is keeping me alive," I bit my cheek to keep
my tone reigned in. The heat in my arms raced up and down, ready
for any sign of uncontrolable emotion. "Or maybe there is, I don't
know. But you're going to explain this to me first." I puled the
letter from my coat pocket and pushed it down the table.
Her eyes locked onto the paper like it was a bug ready to
be squished. "You went into my personal belongings?"
"Don't play vulnerable now, Mother. It doesn't suit you," I
snapped. "I want you to read that and tel me just who the hel is
Michael."
She lifted her head to stare at me with a gaze strong
enough to pierce through my heart. "Michael," she breathed. "Is a
worthless, ungrateful, disgusting boil of a man." A shaking breath
worthless, ungrateful, disgusting boil of a man." A shaking breath
escaped her lips as I watched the stare melt into sorrow. Her bony
arms wrapped around her frame as tight as they would go as she
fought to keep herself together. "And I loved him dearly."
"Jayson said our father's name was Harry."
"Harry." Now it was her turn to sigh. "Harry was a loyal
man and he loved his son very much. But he never loved you.
You're the permanent proof that I fel in love with a fool who left
me once his task was complete."
I shook my head and tried to add two and two together. "I
don't understand. So Michael is my father but he left you knowing
you had a baby on the way?"
"Your father," she said with a hysterical laugh. "Let me tel
you about your father. Imagine you're in the middle of a crisis and
no one can help you. No one but this beautiful man who just
happens to lure you home and tel you that together we could have
an eternity of love and happiness. That was Michael.
"He said he was here for a mission, which I chalked up to
the local church, sily me. I should have put it al together when a
month passed and he stil hadn't left. But I didn't want to think of
that. For the first time in almost two years a man had told me he
loved me, that he had wanted me. You wouldn't know what that's
like, to have your husband not want to touch you but some
handsome mystery man who wil.
"After two months of never-ending passion I found out I
was pregnant. I knew right from the beginning it wasn't Harry's. So
I told Michael, thinking it would promote him to ask my hand, take
Jayson and I and make a perfect family. Instead he sat me down,
Jayson and I and make a perfect family. Instead he sat me down,
promised me to always love the child inside of me, and left."
I sat there, stunned. What did you say to something like
that? What could you say knowing that you were the product of a
failed marriage, a broken home? I tried to swalow and found my
throat raw and dry like I'd screamed for hours on end.
"Come on," I heard her say, my head immediately snapping
up to see her spiteful stare back in place as if she were wiling me
to wither away. "Did you realy think anything different before you
came here with that paper?"
My head shook mechanicaly. "I didn't...not like this. He
left you, Mom, who does that?"
"An angel creating his army." She said it so simply, the rol
of her shoulders practicaly sending me into a violent rage. "He said
one day he'd be back for you, back for us. I first thought it meant
after your birth. But time passed and before I knew it five years
had come and gone and stil my lovely angel never came back. The
only good that ever came from your birth was that you were an
afternoon baby. Everything else has only been of loss and
heartache and betrayal of your father."
"Good to know I was such a burden. Did he say anything
else?" I pressed past her childish jibes.
She started to shake her head but stopped. "Oh, yes, he
did." Her hands reached up around her neck and fumbled for
something just under her turtleneck. A long silver chain with a
delicate wire wrapped white glass heart was pushed across the
table towards me. Her lips curled into a catty sneer as she spoke.
table towards me. Her lips curled into a catty sneer as she spoke.
"He said when you'd see me to give this to you. It was the only
thing your father left me that was pure."
I nodded a numb thanks to her and rose from my seat,
clutching the pendant in my hand. Without looking up I said,
"Guess you were right after al. I guess I realy am monster." She
stayed silent as I brushed past her and left but it wasn't until I was
somewhere on the highway that I could shake off the feeling that
she had been staring at me with a malicious gleefulness. Maybe she
was finaly happy to know I had accepted my own fate.
E L E V E N
"You're not putting in enough effort. Come on, Essalie,
you can do better than this."
I stood in front of Kayden, panting as if I had run the
longest marathon of my life at ful speed. Not even two days had
passed since I had ventured out to see my Mother that Kayden
had started harping on me about controling my abilities. We stood
outside in my backyard amidst snow-soaked branches, the barren
clay earth beneath my feet a welcoming reminder that life wasn't
always filed with the frozen white stuff.
"So what? I don't need to prove anything to you," I
wheezed out between gasps for air. My lungs burned as a sharp
acidic taste lapped against the back of my throat. Roling down
onto the ground I winced and yanked up my sleeves to see fresh
new bruises forming just as the old ones were starting to die off.
Kayden had said it was because I wasn't using my gift more
effectively, or as he put it, 'on a constant basis.' I had told him
some days I just didn't feel like setting things on fire and wondering
if I was going to accidentaly reduce my brother to ashes.
I saw his faint shadow on the ground shake it's head while
he muttered something low in a language I didn't understand. "I'm
trying to help you and this is the thanks I get? Someone's not
getting their World's Favorite Nephilim coffee cup this year."
"You wouldn't know help if it bit you in the-" I stopped and
let out a frustrated sigh. "Nevermind. I'm not in the mood for your
let out a frustrated sigh. "Nevermind. I'm not in the mood for your
games today, Kayden."
He stood a few feet away, running his hand through his hair
with a bored expression. "Ah, yes, because preparing for the
eventual is a game. Sily me. Let's try a new game. How about
Monopoly?"
I kicked at the dirt and walked past him towards the
house. "Screw your Monopoly."
"What's the matter? Didn't have a good time with Mommy
the other day?"
I knew it was a ruse specificaly meant to set me off. I
shouldn't have reacted, but something within me snapped and
ripped at the seams to welcome every venomous thought front and
center. A raw scream escaped my throat before I realized it, red
coloring everything before me. Something inside of me whispered
in a wild tone and I responded without thought, my arms snaking
out to release two streams of fire that wrapped around Kayden
and sealed him in a constricting grasp. Closing my hands into fists
the bands wrapped tighter, his clothes and skin burning wherever
the fire touched.
Hands locked I brought them to a cross over my chest, the
bands of flame carrying Kayden's dragging frame to stand in front
of me. "Who are you," I spat out, "to say anything to me? You only
want me to figure this out so you can kil me and move on in your
existence as a slimy little leech roaming the plains."
Kayden didn't struggle against the fire; if anything he was
grinning, enjoying my display of unbridled power. "You don't
understand, you haven't been around as long as I have." A new coil