The Misadventures of Daria Pigwidgeon

by Amy Lunderman

  My arms rise without protest and my hands sink into the soft waves of his hair. My entire being sighs at this, I never knew it was possible to miss something I only felt once. Chance groans into my neck, and he pulls me tighter to him until I let out a breathy sigh. His whole body presses into me, until I feel every inch of him, and I mean every inch of him too. Enough to know he really isn’t against hanging out, and I’m not either.

  The arms around me middle loosen a little bit so that he can keep one holding me with a tight grip on my hip, while the other slides up my body until it grips my chin. As he raises his head up from me neck, he uses his hand to turn mine to face him. I have a second to see that his face is flushed and his eyes are a darker shade of blue, before his lips crash into mine.

  There is no lead up to a deep kiss, it just is, and I find myself liking it very much.

  I’m thinking Chance does to, because in the next instant he spins me in his arms until the front of me is flush against the front of him. I sigh and open myself up to him, loving the sensation of being devoured. The hand that was on my cheek travels to the back of my head and tangles at the base of the knot of my hair, his other holds me even tighter at my hip. My own hands are wound in his hair trying to bring him closer to me still. As if he needs any urging.

  Bodies twined in each other, Chance moves me backwards until I feel the couch at the back of my knees. I barely feel the bump before he is lowering us with him on top of me. While the movement was gentle, the crash landing was not, but I’m not complaining. The weight of him pressing down on me causes a moan to escape from my lips, one that he swallows. His hands are roaming every inch of me now, and it takes my breath away more that his lips on mine.

  Every little touch and skim sends hot chills through my entire being until I feel like I might explode. Somehow I managed to get my hands under his shirt, and cling at the lean muscles of his back. He groans into me then, and his hips press just a fraction tighter than before. My legs open up for him and welcome him to come closer. He does. Starbursts are firing behind my eyes, and I feel like I need to be closer to him. I have to be closer to him.

  With the urge to tell him to take off his shirt now, I pull back from his mouth, but the look on his face stops anything from slipping past my lips. His eyes are still dark, but they are widened with a shocking horror. His flushed face goes pale. Before I can ask what’s wrong, he pulls himself off of me until he’s standing beside the couch. I lay frozen in the same spot, staring up at him in confusion, afraid to even say anything.

  Hunched over with his hands covering his face, he says “Oh God help me. What have I done?”

  All the breath rushes out of me until there is nothing left but a cold empty space. His words register, but at the same time they don’t. Numbness takes the place of the cold, and I don’t even feel any of the hurt I should feel at his dismissal. Not even when he lowers his hands and gives me a horrified look. I feel nothing.

  “I, I’m, I can’t. I’m sorry.” He tells me in a hurried voice.

  I look away when he starts to shake his head. I close my eyes when I hear him move. I don’t even flinch when I hear him open the door and close it behind him. So this is it then. He had his one shot and he failed. I failed myself. Opening my eyes, I find myself staring at the time on the cable box. It’s midnight.

  Happy Birthday to me.

  ***

  The following morning dawns with a familiar recognition, one that has me up and out of the Harris’s perimeter before anyone sees me or I see them. Unlike before where I was consumed with a grief like numbness, I allow myself to stay alert. Well, not really alert, but a little more like myself still. I’m not going to lie though. The urge to hide within myself is definitely strong. But I use it to let me keep going. I knew this could happen the moment I agreed with Chance, so I have to be stronger this time.

  Or that’s what I tell myself while I walk to school all alone. The remnant’s that yesterday was Halloween shows everywhere. Where the streets are oddly quiet at this early hour, they aren’t as empty. No sign of human life, but there is a plethora of discarded candy wrappers hidden within the un-raked leaves. Decorations show the signs of too much fondling as most lay lopsided or fallen to the ground all together. Everywhere I look, things appear like a town wide street party took place.

  I know that didn’t happen, it’s just the signs of rambunctious children vying for attentions with their costumes and running with laughter. It almost makes me wish I enjoyed the holiday, maybe even once took place in it. It’s a stupid wish I know. It would be silly for a demon to dress up and go trick-or-treating. What would I be anyways, a human girl? Ha, it’s funny. I kind of already am playing dress up. I get random treats, only to be taunted that they were but tricks.

  Turns out, it’s not so funny.

  By the time I get to school, others are arriving and I let myself bled into the masses. I manage to keep my head held high and try not to appear like a wounded animal, and it works, for most of the day anyway. I go through the motions of smiling and taking part in conversations I don’t even care to hear. I succeed in my lie, and before I know it I’m exiting a classroom realizing it’s now time for lunch. This makes me be more than just an anonymous shell moving around, but only because I know the day is almost over. That alone makes me almost giddy, almost, but not quite.

  Still, I don’t bother to hide the spring in my step as I make my way down the hallway. I weave in and out of bodies, thinking I should probably make a stop at my locker. I dodge bodies until I see my locker in my line of sight, or rather a body blocking it. My first instant is to bolt, thinking it might be Chance or worse his sister, but the figure isn’t familiar. No, that’s not true. It’s very familiar, too much actually. I stop cold in the middle of the hallway.

  The figure I spy has her back to me, but I’d know who she was no matter what. It’s unmistakable in the way she holds herself. She is taller than me, but her limps are more waif like and agile. Her hair cascades down her back in obsidian waves, not unlike my own. Of course, she prefers to have them down around her like a cloak, something I’ve never liked on myself. As if sensing my eyes on her, she turns to me, and it’s like looking into a mirror.

  Two black pools that pass for eyes watch me with a twisted smile shinning on her face. My body tenses and my arms fall lifeless at my sides. I think I might have been holding books or things, but I hardly notice as they fall to the ground at my feet. All I see is my sister Riana and all I can think is what the heck she is doing here. Or more importantly, how did she find me? I thought I covered my tracks, but with her standing less than five feet away, obviously I didn’t.

  She moves from the alcove of lockers and sashays out into the crowded hallway. She glides closer to me, not bothering to dodge any of the bodies that are coming and going. She simply walks into them basically, smiling viciously as they stumble from her. I don’t move a muscle. I don’t even think I’m breathing at the moment. All I can feel is a strong fear. It coats my entire body, until I’m quivering with it. It feels stronger than it should be and I manage a glare at my sister. Of course she would play dirty. She never had any qualms of openly using her gift.

  Unfortunately, for me and anyone in the hallway, her little gift specializes in fear. It seeps out of her in wave like tendrils actively reaching out for something to consume. I never liked this particular gift. It’s used to amplify anything your currently afraid of. And right now for me, it’s her. But I can’t let her do this, not here. If there is one thing I’m good at in my horrible life, it’s defending myself against the likes of my family. This is easy compared to boy drama.

  Squaring my shoulders and taking a deep breath, I close my eyes to ignore the sight of her getting closer. I’ll need to really concentrate if I want this to work. What I’m about to attempt is something I’ve only done once before, a wide scale memory block. It might not work, but here’s hoping it does. More important than just making Riana forget about me, I have to make every
one in the hallway forget about her. She is like a sickness, and I can’t allow her to infect the entire student body. Not if I can stop her.

  Slowing my breath so that it comes out in an even pattern, I do what I’ve been doing since I was a baby and hope beyond hope that it doesn’t fail me. It’s been a while since I had to use my gift, but I feel the pull at my feet right away. It’s almost like the very ground wants to suck me down into oblivion. It’s weaker than me though, and I suck it up into myself, until my head is filled with a familiar fog. Its tendrils tickle my thoughts, begging and urging me to ignore its touch. As tempting as it is, I know better than to listen to its lie.

  I push it back, but not enough that it leaves altogether. Then I feel the pull all around me, as if the room is suddenly filled with a tornado wanting to sweep me off my feet. This too is weaker than I am, and I yank it into myself. A warm breeze coats the inside of my body then. It fills me with a peace I’ve never felt outside its grasp and I wonder for a second if maybe I’m sensing the souls of those around me. But I ignore the thought faster than it came, there isn’t time to stall.

  Like the fog, it begs and urges me to forget everything except the comfort it offers. This is always the most tempting for me, wanting to be the one to forget (more so these days). Instead, I push it back a little so that it merges with the fog. Together they dance inside me, giving the illusion that I’m more powerful than I am. And this is the worst kind of temptation. Because right in this moment, all I want is send everyone around me (most of all my sister) graveling to their feet before me. But the little voice inside that is my soul, tells me this is wrong.

  And I listen to that voice.

  Ignoring the temptation and listening to my instincts, I open my eyes. It’s no surprise that Riana is standing before me now. It usually take some time to call my gift to me, so I should have prepared myself a little better that she’s make it to me before I had the chance to finish. Ignoring her smile, I let the power dancing inside slip out ever so slowly, so that it’s like a cloak draped all around me. I feel a smile forming on my own face as I wait for her eyes to cloud in confusion. Only it doesn’t come. If anything, they shine brightly in laughter.

  I flick my eyes away from her, and notice that the hallway is in fact under the conclusion that I am no longer part of the masses. They move around me as if there is a barrier around me blocking them. That’s comforting at least, knowing their safe for the moment. What’s not comforting, is the fact my sister is now openly laughing at me now. My head whips back to her with a glare spread across my features.

  This makes her laugh harder as she says, “Aw poor baby. You always did dish out more than you can take. It’s nice to know that hasn’t changed.”

  She pouts her full lips at me mockingly, her eyes alight with laughter. I cringe, but stay silent. I have no idea why she isn’t gone in the fog that spills out of my very pours, but I have to make this work. I know that much. Clenching my hands into fists at my sides, I focus solely on her. I push the swirling fog at her with a force that makes my head ache. I can feel its tendrils reach out to her. I can even feel her own gift just beyond my own. While her own gift remains at bay from me, she still doesn’t seem to be affected by mine.

  I push a little harder, until spots dance before my eyes. This sends her roaring with laughter. I tell myself it’s not her that makes me pull the power back from her, but my aching head. I don’t believe it though. As I feel myself shaking from the whiplash that is the fog all around me, Riana steps up closer to me. She doesn’t stop until she is within touching distance, but then she leans forward some more. She stops with her face right beside my right ear, but is careful to actually not touch me though, and memories of me zapping her makes me almost smile.

  It doesn’t stay though, and distantly I can feel my hackles rising, but they stay dormant. What with the fog all around, my inner Taser senses that I’m safe for the moment. Funny, I pretty much disagree with it. Her warm breath on my face makes bile rise up in my throat.

  I choke it back down as she whispers, “Don’t fret little sister. I didn’t come here to start anything, just to let you know that I’m not alone in this reunion. The whole clan is here, and we can’t wait to share in the birthday festivities. Come by and see us won’t you?”

  She leans back with a sickening smile that makes me fight to keep from vomiting. When she lifts one perfectly shaped eyebrow, I realize she’s actually waiting for my answer. That’s new. Usually orders or threats are given no matter what I have to say about it. Is it enough to take her and them by default, up on the offer of a reunion? Or the question should be, am I that stupid? Given my life recently, I’m going to go with yes. But only because I am curious to why they are here, that and how they found me in the first place.

  Squaring my shoulders once more, I try to appear less frightened than I am.

  “How will I find you?” I say through clenched teeth.

  She smirks.

  “Why that’s easy sweetie, we’re staying at some dump motel down the road. Come by after school won’t you? Mom is just dying to see you.”

  With that, she leans forward again and air kisses my cheek. I barely feel the air push against me before she is walking around me and away down the hall. I pivot in the same spot and follow her with my eyes until I see her disappear from my sigh amidst the bodies still lining the hallway. I physically droop when she is gone, and feel my body shake to the point that I might fall over. I can still feel my gift dancing all around, but before I can call it back inside to send it away, something catches my eye.

  Or rather, I should say someone.

  Standing behind a cluster of boys, with wide eyes not completely hidden by an open locker, is Chance. And he’s looking right at me. He’s even paler than the night before, but he’s missing something that the others around me do not. He’s not under the influence of my memory block. If he were, then he wouldn’t even see me right now, but he does.

  I feel my body tense in terror, but more in embarrassment. He may not know what he’s seeing, but I do. He’s seeing me at my most vulnerable, caught in the act of succumbing to my demon side. Using my gift without thought or care to those around me, who right at this moment are missing a piece of them that will never come back. I did that, I am doing this. I feel sick to my stomach.

  My mouth opens to call out to him, but he suddenly looks away. He slams his locker. It rings through my head like a death gong. Without so much as a glance back to me, he literally runs off down the hall away from me. I can almost feel a little piece of my soul disappearing as he does from my sight. Feeling hollow, I move from my frozen spot and let my feet carry me away. I come to a spot just around the corner of the crowed hall, finding a moment alone, and lean into the wall closing my eyes with a sigh.

  If I am to get through the rest of the day, then I need to do the second thing that’s the easiest for me. Not having enough time to really concentrate like I need to at the second, I force the fog that still coats me back down into the depths it came from. My feet tingle as the tendrils try to linger, but when it’s gone I do the same for the breeze. It blows outward and it still surprises me that nothing moves as it does.

  Opening my eyes, feeling normal once again, and quite possibly the worst I’ve ever felt in my life at the same time. Of all the things to happen today, Chance seeing me really tops the cake (not my birthday one obviously, since I’m sure my family didn’t get one, but a figurative one). The how’s and why’s don’t really matter to me, mostly because I can’t even grasp it yet, but that he witnessed something he won’t be able to understand kills something in me. I should try and seek him out to explain, but whats the point, he won’t even get what I’m trying to explain. I’ll just make things worse, and besides, he’s likely feeling gratified for being a jerk to me now. And he’s right. I’m simply a waste of time.

  I never wanted any of this to happen, but then maybe I always expected it to. After all, I’m anything but normal and it was only a
matter of time before trouble found me.

  The bell signaling the next class rings through the halls, and I push off the wall with a groan. Might as well get through the day, it would seem I’m going to have one hell of a night. I wonder if Toby would mind me calling out of work tonight, because the odds seem good that I won’t be making my evening shift. As I make my way to the cafeteria I know I should skip, I ignore the way the halls are filled with more people than usual. It must be odd trying to remember where you should be going, and not know why you can’t remember. I remember though, and I should, because I did this.

  My demon, no me, did this to these people. I really am a demon, one who is no longer under any disillusions that she’s safe. I’m not safe, anything but actually.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Thankfully, for my sanity, the rest of my school day went by in a blur of no further altercations. I didn’t see Chance again, much to both my pleasure and displeasure. I would’ve loved to see him one for time. Odds are I’m not going to be coming back to school or my apartment after meeting with my family. I know it’s stupid to go see them. I’m likely walking into a trap laid out to finally finish me off, but in a way I think I kind of deserve it. I’m an abomination. One that needs to be put down. Or so they have told me often over the years. Only now is it making any sense.

  Here I am, a demon crippled with a conscious and in the same light a girl wounded with too much power. This type of thing never ends well in books and movies, and it shouldn’t now. It should be alarming that I welcome my upcoming death with open arms. But what’s to live for anyway? I ruin everything and everyone I touch. I should be put down. At least the pain of all this crap will be gone and I can be free. That’s something at least. See, there is a light at the end of the tunnel, and hopefully it’s not a figurative one.