by Kali Emerson
I thought about whether or not it could have been. It really could have been either but given the situation, I would safely assume it was magic related.
“No. I think it was a real vision.” He pulled his lips into his teeth, thinking hard. I thought about how his hand felt in mine while walking through that forest. I felt a connection to the vision, similar to how I felt when I was receiving past life memories. It was mine to see.
I shot a look at him, and he reciprocated what I had thought in my own head. It was the only conclusion that made sense, but maybe I was feeling power hungry. It didn’t seem logical, but it was the only thing that fit.
Other than becoming like my mother. She’d started having visions in her dreams too, I remembered hearing my parents talking about it when they thought I was asleep. I would sneak downstairs and listen to them talk about what my mom had seen. She was lucid when she talked about it. She didn’t get entirely out of it until two years before she died. Before that she had more lucid days, than she did delusional ones. She was still able to talk about what she saw, then it became harder to decipher.
My dad even believed her at first, and thought she was some kind of a psychic.
“You don't think that's what it was, do you?”
I looked at him with more hurt in my eyes. I’d been holding in how I felt while Fiona and I had gotten too fucked up, too fast to let it go and feel what I needed to feel.
It came raging out of my body at full force, the feeling of hurt from Fiona and then the terrifying thought that I could be becoming like my mom.
I knew I wasn’t crazy, so I couldn’t tell anyone else yet.
“I need to take a shower.” I lifted up my sweat covered shirt, and left it in a pile on the floor while I walked to the bathroom. Alex followed me.
13
I hadn’t spent a night alone in my own bed in so long, I forgot how agonizing it was to have empty space next to me. I’d felt Alex next to me for so many months that I forgot the void that lingered in my chest for so long. With him I’d been free of the emptiness and then without him I’d felt it again.
He was only gone for a night but it felt like an eternity and it was my decision, he had wanted to stay. He begged me to stay, but I wanted to be alone. I felt the sting of Fiona leaving deep within my soul and I knew that he could mask the pain, but he couldn’t fix it. I had to do that.
So I layed in my sheets, alone and drawing in my own thoughts of loneliness and anguish. I let myself cry so many times I lost count. My tears stained the pillows as I tried to stay above the increasingly heighted peaks of water that surrounded my very tired soul. I let it all out into the universe, begging it to take away what I didn’t want to feel.
When I finally opened my eyes, my vision was clouded and bleak. My breath stuttered as I sucked air into my lungs, filling them and giving them a break from all of the tar I’d let settle in my lungs. My blankets were crumpled under me as I lay spread out like a starfish, drying out on the beach.
I always thought I was so independent. But what I was feeling was proof that I wasn’t. I relied on other people so much I couldn’t even grieve on my own. I wanted Alex to be there so badly so I didn’t have to feel the enormous wound that started to fester because I hadn’t tended to it.
I only masked it with false happiness, and drinkable substances that made me feel numb down to my skeleton. I let it take over my body so that I couldn’t feel. But then when I did feel, I broke out of my body and into some place that made me check my self abuse at the door.
I had never been strong enough before to admit when I needed to be alone. Because I never really was alone. I always had someone around me, and that’s why I avoided going home. I just wanted to be around people, usually people who hurt the same way I did. I surrounded myself with hurt people because I was hurt.
If I wasn’t with Fiona, I was out finding someone I could push my body against. The only time I was alone was when I went home at night. I hated being there, because I would dread the nights my mom would get up in the middle of the night, chanting about whatever delusion it was she was having. I tried not to wake up, my dad took care of it but it was so hard not to.
I would lay there with my eyes closed, listening to him struggle with her, knowing I could go down stairs to help but I just couldn’t. He would never ask for my help, but as I got older I knew he wouldn’t have turned it down either. I just hated so much to see her when she was like that. I had gotten used to seeing her drugged up and glassy eyed. I would have rather seen her like that, then when she looked like she had the devil in her eyes.
On the weekends I started to stay the night at Fiona’s house. Most of the time we had to keep in a secret because her mom didn’t like when I was there too much. We would have to wait until her mom was too busy with something else so that she wouldn’t hear her window jolt open, and me climbing into her first floor window.
I had to stay so quiet, that she would just put a movie on and lay with me on the floor until I fell asleep. She really knew how to take care of me when I needed her, but I think that’s what I was to her. I had become a project for her to work on and fix. She felt good about helping me, and even bragged about it to her other friends.
She thought I didn’t know about it, but people talked and I listened. She told people she was only friends with me because she knew me before high school, and she couldn’t let such a sad and broken girl have no friends. It hurt me, but I kept going to her because I couldn’t be alone.
I couldn’t let myself heal, while I still had leeches stuck to my skin. She had been feeding on me, waiting for me to pass out then would scoop me up and tell people that she saved me. It was what she would have done if I had listened to her. She would have played us, making us into her own puppets. She would take over her mother's position on The Council one day, and we would end up her pawns.
But it was the second time since the day I met her, that I made a choice without her and she hated me for it. There was no love lost, or sadness over a failed friendship. She was made aware that she had lost control. I told her, to her face, that I didn’t need her anymore and she wouldn’t stand for it.
I didn’t care about her mom, even if they were really going to kill her. I didn’t care.
As I exhaled, I released all of those thoughts and emotions. I let go of all of the build up of shit that I had let gather inside of me. I was cleansing my soul of all of the toxic waste dumped into me. I wasn’t going to be that girl anymore, who needed help or a hand in order to get up.
I stared at the flickering candles beside my bed. One blue, one black. The flames were dancing high, and the wax burned smoothly leaving no drips down the side. My spell was working. I couldn’t move on, if I didn’t let go.
I reached up and let my fingers run through my hair, down to my eyes then my lips and my neck. I felt my soft skin beneath my fingertips and let them run down over my chest and down my stomach. They trailed off near my hips and traveled to my side embracing the cold touch of the blanket underneath me. I grabbed the fabric and let the threads seep into my skin.
The air was still cold, and my window was open. I couldn't get up to close it, I was too deep in a meditative state to move my body any more than that. So I stayed there until I was unable to hold on to consciousness.
When I woke up, I was in the same spot that I was when I fell asleep. My window was still open, and the moon had shifted to the other side of the sky so my room was dark and cold. I sat up to close my window, and heard a creak from the other room.
I reached under my bed for the baseball bat I hid under there, like I didn’t have magic to save me.
“Who’s there?” I yelled out, but the worry could be heard in my voice and I heard another foot step.
“I was worried.”
I saw a shadow cast across the floor in the hallway, then a figure stepped in front of the door way. I held my bat high in the air, ready to swing at the intruder.
“Relax. It’s just me
.”
Alex stepped into the dim light of my room, with his hands shoved into his front pockets. I dropped the bat onto the floor, and it bounced with a sharp ting.
“You’re an asshole.” I climbed back into my bed.
“You just hadn’t texted me at all and I know how you’re feeling. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
I turned my body away from him and hiked the blanket up over my shoulder.
“Don’t do that.”
“Okay, look I’m sorry.” His feet crept across the floor to the other side of the bed. My weight shifted as he climbed under the covers too, and let his arm wrap around my waist letting his head rest on top of my head.
“How do you feel?” He asked, but already knew the answer so I didn’t say. He squeezed his arm tighter around me, and the feeling of wholeness started to return. I wasn’t rotting, or festering. I had warmth, and I was ready to grow.
“You stink.” He sniffed my hair.
“I know.” I couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. I had been doing so many things that I forgot to bathe myself. I rolled to unlatch myself from his grasp, and stood up making my way to the bathroom.
I leaned over the bathtub and turned the shower on. I pulled my top off and got in. The water was cold at first but I let it run over me anyway. I shivered, and got goosebumps but the water became hot quickly. As the water hit my skin, it felt like a thousand razor blades slicing my skin. My hair soaking and stretching out down my back, to my tail bone.
I heard the door open, and a cold wave of air shot through the bathroom. Then another one when he opened the curtain. His arms wrapped around my wet body pulling me in close to him.
I didn't know what it was about being in the shower with him that felt so vulnerable. I was naked with him all the time, but the way his body slipped off mine, and how we had to work a little harder to stay standing up straight, got to me a different way.
His hand moved down my ass, shoving his fingers in between my thighs. I let out a sigh, and pushed closer into his lips. He pushed back as our gentle kiss became hot, and fiery. The steam rose up with the two of us standing, allowing the clouds to devour us.
I started to feel dizzy, I thought that it was from the heat and the thrill from his fingers. But as my vision grew dark I realized that’s not what was happening at all. I pulled away and could see the edges of my vision become darker.
The vision started out blurry again, but I could tell it was the village a lot quicker than I did the first time. I was running toward the center of the meadow, yelling out someone's name. The sounds around me were muffled and incomplete, including my own speech. Everything was moving around so fast, and my heart rate was fast enough to make breathing harder. My lungs struggled to keep up and I gasped for oxygen in the thick, smoky air.
I woke up quicker that time, with Alex holding me at the bottom of the cold shower with a towel draped over me.
“What happened?”
“I...I think I had another vision.”
“We need to tell someone.”
“Not yet.”
He brushed my wet hair out of my face and I sat up, adjusting the towel and then stood up walking to my bedroom. Alex followed me.
“What do you mean not yet?”
“I mean not yet. I don’t want to tell them.”
“I don’t understand. I thought you wanted to make your magic better?”
“I do. But, I’m not ready for that kind of magic yet.” I started to feel like I really could have been developing the same kind of psychosis my mom had. He didn’t understand that, though.
“I don't want this kind of magic.”
“Why? It’s an extraordinary kind.”
“It’s not.”
“To see the future?”
“I don’t want to end up like my mother.”
He hesitated, then sat down on the bed and motioned for me to join him. I held the ice pack to my head and sat down on the bed making the spring creak.
“I want to do this with you, Mara.” He moved his head slightly toward me.
“I don’t want it.”
“You won’t be like her.”
“You don’t know that.”
He stayed like that for a while, starting to fall asleep and laying down on the pillow. Eventually I closed my eyes and started to drift off, too. Alex's breathing got deeper and his chest moved up and down slower.
I turned, facing him. My nose rested against his neck and wrapped his arms around me. He held me in silence. I took a deep breath in, smelling the soap he just used in the shower not too long ago. The smell of cigarettes hadn't clung to his skin yet, and he stopped shaving so the smell of peppermint was gone.
I loved the way he was to me, not even a year yet but learning each other so well. I traced the outline of his collarbone with my free hand and thought about how nice it was to have someone like him. I felt bad for the people who live their whole lives not feeling it.
I wondered how I ever thought I knew what love was, until I met him. In friends or family. He's the only other man I'd said ‘I love you' to, and was the only person I'd meant it for.
The other was my only boyfriend in high school, Matthew. He was the first boy who took me out to eat before he fucked me. It seemed to be the only reason why I liked him, and let him take me out again. He had a job, so he paid for whatever we did. We would go to the movies and out to eat. He had a car sometimes, so we would drive down to Boston without our parents permission.
We said ‘I love you’ to each other in the alleyway next to The Brew, with the ocean waves crashing in the distance. He was the first person I opened up to about my mom, I told him everything.
But he was eighteen and going to college, I was only fifteen. It tore my world apart when he told me he was going to Oregon to go to school.
I thought I was going to die. It made me laugh. Laying there with Alex made me realize that, even if that had been love, it was mediocre at best. His breathing got heavy and I adjusted my face so that my nose was near his chest and my forehead was on his neck. His arms squeezed me tighter and then relaxed completely. He drifted into a deep sleep, and I followed.
I rubbed my eyes and scooted back so that I could look at his sleepy face too. I lifted my chin up, so that he would see I wanted him to kiss me. He leaned in, and barely touched my lips with his. I listened to our breath and felt the air pass between us. My eyes were closed but I could see a thousand images blinking through my head.
“I will never get tired of spending my eternity with you.” He spoke, slightly pulled away.
“Me too.”
He lowered his hand against my back, down to the top of my butt and pulled me into him. I responded by using my arm to pull the top half of our bodies together. My legs spread slightly so he shifted his weight to be on top of me.
He leaned down to kiss my neck, moving slowly from near my chin, down to my shoulder.
I needed my abilities to grow stronger so that I could move bigger things than my shampoo bottle, and be able to levitate like Cassandra could. The limit to our own power was essentially limitless, especially the two of us together. He was my best friend. My only friend. I knew he felt the same way. It was easier knowing what he was thinking because I could feel what he felt. In that moment of embrace it was the same. A mutual emotion that neither one of us absorbed from the other.
We loved each other so fully, and flawlessly. It wasn't blemished by lack of understanding the other person's truth. We had the ultimate intimacy just by touch or glance. We could see so profoundly into each other's souls we just existed in the same space, as when our souls split becoming two.
I understood then, if I wanted to let what was holding me back go. I needed to complete my grief cycle. Acceptance. I needed to pay a visit to Rockport, alone.
I wouldn’t confront Fiona directly. But, the last time I saw her, I didn’t get to say goodbye like I wanted. It wasn’t the finale I wanted with her. Although I had grown apathetic towa
rd her I needed to find the closure that would allow me to come to my full potential. I couldn’t have gone forward without the contentment of a resolution, even with someone who cut me so deeply. I was a witch, and too good of one to allow myself to be held back by such a thing.
I knew it was the right thing to do. I held onto her for too long, and wasted too much time on someone who wouldn’t matter. She said she had done all she could, gave all she could to me but she didn’t. She never wanted to be my friend.
I made a small protection sachet, to make myself undetectable just in case she was tracking me. She couldn’t know that I was coming. I left in the early hours of the morning before the sun came out, leaving a note for Alex on the nightstand. As I was walking out of the bedroom, I leaned in and gave him a kiss on the forehead. He said he wanted to see me before I left, but he looked so restful I didn't want to disturb him.
After the protection spell, Callie taught us a temporary version of the portal spell that would be open only for the time we stepped through it. We would be able to travel like that all the time, eventually. At that time it made us a bit sick each time we made a jump. They told us it would go away and it would become like second nature.
The front door clicked and I locked it behind me, staring down at the piece of paper that had Fiona's address on it. I didn't have it memorized because her mom moved closer to the beach after high school.
“Lacus” I whispered into the air. I took a step forward, and I was in a crumbling old cemetery by the ocean. The sun hadn't come up over the horizon, so I still had about a half an hour before it got too bright. The cemetery was on a slight hill, facing toward the ocean so I could see the harbor from there. Only the oldest Rockport families were buried there. It was full of all the disintegrating headstones of my ancestors.
The grass was grey and unkept from surviving the winter and East Coast snow. The energy there was outstanding, I always felt it but for some reason that morning it felt even more so. I let them pass through me freely and let myself connect to the generational magic that flowed through my veins.
