"…"
Oh no. Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god!
I silently screamed inside my head at the wreckage. I killed them. I killed them. I killed them No. I can't, I wouldnt. No. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. This isn't real. This is just a dream. This is just some post mortem dream and I need to wake up. Wake up! Wake up!
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"Hey! Look at that. That's a pretty useful…Nox? Nox, stop crying right now. Breathe. Nox breathe. Hey, she's not breathing!"
ERROR!
Lowell sprinted over to Miseria who was vacantly looking at the dead birds lying on the forest floor. He grimaced and tried to direct her to look at him. He summoned up as much intention as he could and commanded her. "Breathe."
She wheezed a little and he did it again. "It's ok. Everything's fine. Breathe. You saved us and they were just birds, Ria. You need to breathe. Breathe sweetheart."
Just birds? Just how many birds did I just kill? Ten? Twelve? Fifteen? I counted the number of pairs I could see. All the way up to eighteen.
Eighteen hearts. Eighteen necks snapped. Thirty-six vacant eyes.
What have I done? Penguin please. Please stop this. I don't care how. Take it back. Take it back.
That's not possible Ria. I can't take back that ability or their deaths. It's just not feasible. That ability is a part of you now. However, when did you gain the ability to read minds?
I don't know. Today. This. This is you—I couldn't have. I've never hurt someone. I would never hurt anyone. This is all a mistake.
That's not me Ria. I had nothing to do with that. That's you. It seems you're revealing more as you grow up. I'll have to log that in your status. Well done on the birds, might I add. I'll award you with experience points—
I can't do this.
I pushed Lucian away and flew out of my sling. The shimmery tendrils I had come to hate caught me and lowered me to the ground. I need to. I need to run.
Ria…!
I took off running amidst their shouts and cries for me to stop. Because they just don't understand. This isn't a gift or a party trick.
I can't do this.
I ran as fast as I could towards nowhere. I just wanted to get lost. I don't want to hear anyone else's thoughts. I can't even bear to hear my own. Every time a bird squawked I flinched and tried to drown the sound out with something else. Anything else.
Fireflies and pixies whispered around me. My distress was not only plain to see but contagious. They zoomed away in every direction but mine. Good. I shouldn't be around anyone.
Where do I go?
My heart was doing a marathon as I ran into the darkness. I tripped over a tree root and landed face first in the dirt. Ow.
A hand wiped off the rocks that had embedded themselves in my face and I spit out the dirt that had entered my mouth. Now my forehead and my nose hurts.
Great.
I chastised myself. Great plan Ria. Run into the outdoors without help or any way back. Great plan. Now what?
I sniffled and scooted next to a tree trunk. It's so freaking cold out here. I barely noticed while I was clinging to Lucian because his body temperature is permanently settled in the hundreds. But it's so cold.
Ria, we have to go back.
"No. No, I can't go back. I just murdered a flock of birds bigger than myself with a thought. And you know what? I kinda liked it. It felt really good. Like…I was popping a piece of gum or finishing a set of questions. And right after? I felt like doing more. I felt like doing it to them. To them Penguin."
Ria, that's not fair. You've never felt this way before and you were defending yourself. You just got carried away.
"Carried away? I was going to kill…" I paused and shuddered. "I was going to kill everyone around me because I could. Because I liked the silence." I can't be around them.
I'm too dangerous.
Penguin stayed quiet for a moment and then I felt his presence leave me completely alone in my mind. Silence.
Silence at last.
I shivered and huddled up next to the tree in the fetal position. Slowly darkness started to creep into my vision. My ears rang and my stomach started turning on me. It feels like that early morning sickness I had this morning.
But worse.
My stomach clenched painfully and I whimpered. Pain bloomed in my stomach and I retched. Bile spewed out of my mouth but not much else. I deserve this. Maybe this is a punishment for using it?
That would make sense. I deserve that. A brush of cold air against my forehead had the blood clotting and sticking to my hair. I shook with the cold and fought the urge to sleep. To just go to sleep and forget it all happened.
I miss her.
Freesia comes to mind as I languish in the cold. I lick my dry lips and reminisce the taste of her pizza sandwich. What I would give for something like that right now. No magic here though. Only semi-spoiled milk and bread bits. Even hungry I wouldn't be in the mood for that.
A warm hug after a day full of boring classes. One of her weird nighttime rituals for my 'future happiness'. Essential oils and making tea.
My lashes flutter and I remember bath times. Bars of soap and convincing her I didn't need to be scrubbed down one more time. Floral fragrances that threatened to choke me with their aroma.
Cheap pink soap. The kind that always smelled good even though it was made from a melting pot of chemicals.
Bathtimes from…another time. I think the only good memories of my mom stemmed from those…Rubber duckies and a bucket of water to wash the soap out of my hair. Warm wet fingers untangled knots and brushed my hair into parts. Then a dollop of leave-in conditioner would be used to moistorize the carefully taken care of strands.
It made my scalp feel tight, but she always insisted that I was so lucky. People would go through hell for hair like mine. It never quite made me feel like I was lucky. Just...different.
Lukewarm water and a lullaby pouring from her lips. The kind that had my eyes closing and my head tingling. My dad hated getting wet. He would take up the chore of putting me to sleep instead. He read to me a lot. It was the one thing I could do with him just right.
Fantasies, fairytales, golden apples, and a goddess looking to steal children in the middle of the night. Clad in black and white, followed by her ghostly parade. Stories. Children's stories that were meant to fill my eyes with wonder and—
My eyes closed and I sucked in a cold breath. My name…He wanted to name me after one of them…but my mom disagreed. She said something about it once.
"Ria…"
Someone called out to me but I was too far gone to hear it.
What was it?
What was that name?
O…It started with O.
What's my name again?
Ria? Or Grace?
Who am I?
"Ria!"