Work Text:
Monday mornings were always hectic for Margo. Her first class of the day started at 7:45 a.m. sharp and with her school being a ten minute walk (and two train rides away), she needs to be up early. The Visions students who lived as far from campus as she did usually went back no later than Sunday evening- simply to avoid having to wake up at ungodly hour to get to school on time. Margo rarely followed suit; she liked to use every bit of her weekend to spend time with her family- more specifically her sister. Said sister was kind enough to drag her out of bed at five thirty, help her pack her bag, maybe give her some change for a breakfast sandwich, and send her on her way.
“Thanks Rami!” Margo chirped, her mouth watering as she took the fragrant, brown paper bag from the bodega owner. She passed him the crisp five dollar bill her sister had loaned her and yelled “Keep the change!” before rushing back outside to continue her morning commute. Being that It was only half past seven and Visions was just down the way, the sophomore was doing good on time. Maybe it was the relaxation she felt at not being late, but it felt like a splendid morning. It was a few weeks since the start of Autumn and temperatures lowered ever so slightly, having early mornings like this felt crisp and refreshing. Traffic was heavy as usual, but not many people were angrily blasting their horns and yelling profanities at other drivers. The quiet was pretty nice and Margo opted to enjoy it instead of playing music from her headphones. After a few more minutes and few more paces down the street, Margo learned that the peacefulness was not here to stay. The silence was pierced by an unfamiliar screech and Margo’s head snapped to her right to see a black Cadillac Escalade barreling down the street. From where she stood, she could tell the SUV wasn’t going to stop in time before the already red light- not by a long shot. While Margo herself was safe on the sidewalk, she couldn’t say the same for the boy with a roller backpack who had already started crossing the intersection. The neon white depiction of a walking pedestrian shone bright on the other side of the crosswalk, signaling to him that it was safe to proceed. A wireless pair of silver SONY headphones fully covered his ears and his head was casted down. Before Margo could think, her legs were moving as fast as they could, bringing her to where the sidewalk ended and the crosswalk began. Her strong sense of self preservation stopped her from following the boy into the street.
”STOP!!!”
But her warning call was obstructed by those damned headphones and the boy continued his stride, taking just enough steps to put him directly in the way of the oncoming vehicle. By this time, other people in the area were also yelling for the boy to get out of the danger zone. Unfortunately when he finally looked up and came to, it was far too late. Margo’s heart twisted at the shock and fear that clouded his youthful face as he registered his doom.
The impact was sudden and brutal. The car's front bumper hit him with the force of a freight train, sending his lithe body flying through the air. Gravity pulled him down quickly with a harshness and Margo could’ve sworn she heard the crunch of his bones as he collided with the pavement. Due to being struck so forcefully, the momentum in his body dragged him along the asphalt before he finally halted four feet from where he was originally hit. The bystanders were hysterical after witnessing such a tragedy and some had already pulled out their phones to contact 911. Against her better judgment, Margo walked closer to where the boy was sprawled out onto the pavement. The smell of burnt rubber and metal mingled with the coppery tang of blood, a stark reminder of the harsh reality she had just witnessed. Margo’s eyes searched frantically for any sign of movement, for the slightest twitch of a finger that would indicate the kid was alive. The sleeve of his expensive Visions Academy blazer was torn along with the grey vest and his crimson blood was already seeping through the white Oxford shirt underneath. The kid was a stranger, Margo had never even seen him walk the corridors of Visions before, but devastation wracked her body as she saw his face scrunched up in pain…pain worse than she could possibly imagine. Margo silently prayed for all his pain to disappear, but immediately regretted her prayer as she saw the fight for survival leave his body. He began to visibly relax, but the color and vitality drained from his face as he did so.
‘No…’ she thought, eyes wide and desperate but not being able to move ‘….no no no no no no’
“…no…no…no” she kept repeating as she unknowingly came to a different sense of consciousness. Her eyes snapped open and suddenly, she was looking up at her LED lit bedroom ceiling. Margo forced herself to regulate her erratic breathing and used her elbows to prop herself up.
“Drink.” Her older sister’s voice was soft yet assertive as she pressed the edge of a mug against her chapped bottom lip. Margo drank from the mug without hesitation. The liquid was warm and flooded her senses with lavender, calming her down instantly. For anyone wondering, no, what Margo just experienced was not just a dream. People wake up from nightmares and feel a sense of relief knowing that what they dreamt wasn’t real, just a figment of their subconscious mind. For Margo, there was no relief… just dread and despair.
“How long?” her sister asked as she finished ingesting the herbal blend. Margo rolled her eyes because the question was as obvious as the answer. Still, she chose to entertain the inquiry anyway.
“Since the Harvest Moon…” Margo sighed as she shuffled out of bed, purposely ignoring the pinched look upon her older sister’s face. Ever since she got a pixie cut, Maeve’s facial features became sharper, more intimidating.
“You’ve been tormenting yourself everyday for the past three weeks is what I’m hearing.” She deadpanned. Margo grabbed her empty purple duffle bag and plopped it on the bed. The dismissive remark died on the tip of her tongue as she considered the fact she’d need her sister’s help packing.
“I’ve been training myself for the past three weeks, actually.” Margo grabbed her usual necessities- freshly washed knee high socks and leg warmers, journal, palo santo, Nintendo switch- and started stuffing the duffle bag “Honestly Maeve, if I keep relying on some expensive concoction to regulate my visions I’ll never truly gain control of them.”
Maeve had already began folding the small amount of laundry on the foot of the bed. She pressed her little sister with a hard stare.
“Your powers aren’t like mine or Mom’s. You can’t control something as subconscious as intuition.” Margo scoffed.
“So i’m stuck with having morbid visions for the rest of my life. Cool. Love that for me.” Contradictory to how she felt this given moment, Margo usually wasn’t so pessimistic when it came to her psychic abilities. In fact, when she was younger the onset of her premonitions excited her. It amazed her how she always knew when someone was calling before the phone even rang or how she could always accurately guess what number (between 1 and 100,000) someone was thinking. But then she turned twelve and…the visions came. In the beginning they weren’t that bad and Margo coped well with the sporadic increments in which she’d get them. She wielded her powers excellently until Fall came that year and then suddenly her visions reflected the death and grief the season brought. Day in and day out, all she saw was fatality. Her mother curated a potion of valerian root and other ingredients to regulate the visions, decrease their intensity. Since then, Margo made sure to drink the concoction at the start of every Autumn
….except this one.
Now, at fifteen years old, Margo’s powers are stronger and she’s more competent in her craft than she has ever been. Because of this, it sometimes seemed as though tending to her magic added onto her list responsibilities. Despite the burden of coming from a long line of witches, Margo could never be ashamed of who she was, but the possibility of her powers getting the better of her, making her life unbearable was something she always feared.
“You’re powers are evolving is all. The only way to prevent your visions from driving you crazy is to take care of what’s up here.” Maeve pressed the tips of her index and middle finger to Margo’s forehead and pushed, gently shoving the younger girl’s head back.
“Meditate, do breathing exercises , do your shadow work, and most importantly take the damn potion!”
“But it tastes nasty…” Margo whispered meekly with an indignant pout. Maeve ignored her sister’s childishness and started putting the folded clothes in her duffle bag.
“I’ll have mom brew a batch this week, even though it is gonna be hassle getting organic valerian root and ashwagandha.” Maeve eventually looked up and sighed at the hopeless frown on her younger sister’s face.
“Now that you’re getting older, you’re gonna learn a lot of hard lessons about what it means to be a witch. So you better gear up now, sis.”
There was only a five year age difference between the two. Maeve had faced many trials and tribulations when she was fifteen and Margo witnessed most of it: backfired spells, starting/ending an elf revolution, turning into a mermaid, pissing off the grim reaper, accidentally summoning a dragon, even dating a vampire who turned out to be evil! It was safe to say Margo learned much from Maeve’s mistakes; turning her into a more responsible, mindful witch at such an age. If only that eliminated the mental strain she was feeling right now. Margo looked over at the LED digital clock on her wall and huffed when she realized she was already running behind schedule.
06:40:48
the clock read. The numbers in the third row increased by the second.
“Think you can help me out?” Margo asked gesturing to the clock. Maeve casted her a deadpanned look “Just so I can have enough time to wash up and get out of here.”
Before Margo knew it, the numbers on her clock froze and there was total silence. Not even the morning birds could be heard chirping outside of her window. The silence of the world stopping. The two witches had long ago grown used to it considering how often the elder used her powers.
“I’m giving you seven minutes. Tops.”
The seven minute head start helped a ton. Margo had rushed out just in time to catch the first C-train instead of the second, putting her a head of schedule for the rest of her commute. She tried her best to expel thoughts of the boy from her vision. Despite the indications that he was student at Visions, she had no clue who he was. What she did know, however, was that his death was preordained…It likely already happened. Although Margo hated getting death premonitions, she considered herself lucky in the sense that the cursed people in her visions were always complete strangers. Her first premonition was of a man who ended it all by throwing himself on a train track right before the next train was scheduled. The spray of blood that came with the brutal impact, the way his body was crushed under the unyielding steel, his bones snapped like twigs, flesh torn like paper, the sound was a horrifying, deafening cacophony of metal and agony.
Experiencing such a vision in the middle of fourth period led to Margo having a breakdown and she was sent home for the rest of the day. Later that evening after dinner, her father turned on the TV to a live news segment about how all trains were cancelled for the day due to a man- identified as Evan Mathews- being hit by an A-train just an hour before. That night, her mother immediately began looking for a solution.
“Thanks Rami!” Margo chirped, her mouth watering as she took the fragrant, brown paper bag from the bodega owner. Her eyebrows slightly knitted as she dug into the pocket of her jacket. Margo was surprised at herself, she always had her money out beforehand. A frown appeared on her face as the only thing she felt in her pocket was her metro card and a piece of gum. Margo put the paper bag back on the counter and began fishing through her other pocket, trying to ignore the unimpressed expression of the clerk. To make matters worse, she already could tell a line was starting to form. There was nothing in Margo’s other pocket and she flinched as the person behind her shifted. She prepared herself for a sharp reprimand from them. However on the contrary, they gently reached over her to place a crumpled $10 bill on the counter next to her breakfast sandwich.
“It’s on me, boss.” Margo looked over her shoulder and let out a small gasp at the familiar face. Standing less than a few feet away from her was the doomed boy from her premonition. She’d never come face to face with any of the individuals she envisioned dying, but it was more chilling than seeing a ghost…and she’s seen her fair share of ghosts. Margo forcefully gathered her bearings, knowing that now wasn’t the time to short circuit.
“Y-y-you really don’t have to-
“I beg to differ,” the boy interrupted. There was a Brooklyn accent there, but it wasn’t overbearing nor exaggerated. His voice was smooth and a bit boyish. It matched his person perfectly. The boy was around Margo’s age and stood a head taller than her. He was much more slender, but his face was in no way gaunt. He looked so wholesome and healthy with his bright brown eyes and deep toffee skin.
“It’d be a damn shame if both of us were late just cause someone forgot her cash.”
Margo opened her mouth to retort, but closed it just as fast when she saw the playful grin on his face and the way he gestured to her VA blazer that matched his own. He was…teasing her…so casually as if they were friends. Before Margo could think of anything to say, the quote-on-quote doomed boy grabbed his own paper bag from Rami and told him to keep the change before exiting the bodega. Shocked and completely discombobulated, Margo pulled out her phone to call Maeve. However, sticking out of her phone case was the edge of the five dollar bill she was almost convinced she’d left at home.
Disregarding her earlier intentions of calling her sister, Margo rushed out of the bodega and saw the nameless guy standing on the corner of the street, waiting to cross.
“Aye yo!” she yelled out to him, her five dollar bill crushed in the palm of her hand. Of course, he didn’t hear her for his SONY headphones covered his ears likely blocking out any noise. His head was bobbing rhythmically to whatever song he was listening to. Margo huffed and briskly walked towards him, her only goal at the moment being to pay the kid back. As she neared him, she heard a very familiar screech. Although Margo had a good idea of what made the noise, her head still snapped to her right to see- you guessed it -a black Cadillac Escalade, barreling down the street. She turned back to where her stranger of a classmate was standing on the curb. In that second the street light turned red and the pedestrian signal turned white.
“STOP!!!”
Just like in her premonition, her warning went unheard and the boy began crossing anyway. One could say that Margo had technically done all she could to save the kid without endangering/exposing herself. The thing was…it didn’t feel like enough. Margo didn’t want to let “fate run it’s course”, all she knew was that she didn’t want to see her vision translate into real life. On their own accord, Margo’s legs moved as fast as they could. She sprinted towards him, dropping all of her items that would slow her down. There was no way Margo would catch up to him if she continued running along the sidewalk; so instead the young witch cut between through the cars parked on the street and made a beeline towards the unfamiliar boy. Her legs burned with the effort, her boho braids fell from the messy bun she styled them in this morning, sneakers pounding the asphalt, each step closing the gap between her and him. The car's engine grew louder, the sound of tires screeching against the pavement intensified as it sped closer but Margo didn’t dare look back at it, keeping her eyes trained on the oblivious boy. Margo’s heart raced and she pushed herself to move faster, her breath coming in ragged gasps until finally, she was close enough to launch herself at the boy. There was a split second where he finally looked away from his phone, eyes widening before Margo’s person crashed into his own- stopping him from taking another step.
“Oof!”
the collision of thier bodies knocked the wind out of him. Although the boy tried to keep his footing, the force in which she lunged at him was too strong and he gripped her waist for a bit of purchase before stumbling back and tumbling down on the street corner. The metal handle of the roller book bag he’d been trollying around scraped Margo’s leg and his SONY headphones had fallen to the ground before they did. The whole thing was awkward and uncomfortable with Margo’s long, loose braids in his face. Just as the guy opened his mouth to ask if she was bonkers, he saw the rogue SUV rushing towards them through the intersection- wheels still screeching as the driver tried to break. The boy instinctively wrapped his arms and legs around Margo and rolled them to the side to increase the chances of them not getting hit. Within a second the death machine zoomed through the intersection- just a few inches from where they laid on the pavement. The two teens were petrified and gripped each other tighter as the boy hid his face in Margo’s hair, she buried her face in his grey vest. After a few steadying breaths Margo finally became aware of all the commotion around her. Though the cadillac hadn’t hit them, the driver’s failure to stop at the red light in time resulted in side impact collision with another car. People in the area had thier phones out recording the spectacle; obviously more interested in the car crash than the two teens who almost got ran over. They untangled themselves from each other and sat on the curb. Her classmate (whose name she still didn’t know) pulled his knees to his chest, his face blanched.
“Y-you just…j-just…” he stuttered without looking at her. The ordeal definitely shook him, but at least he sat next to Margo alive… and not bleeding out in the middle of the intersection as previously fortold in her premonition. And that was okay with her. Whenever Margo had visions of people meeting thier untimely death, she was later plagued by feelings of guilt and powerlessness. She wanted to save each and everyone of those individuals , but never could…until now. The glimmer of happiness and pride she felt at the thought was then overshadowed by the knowledge that there could be severe consequences to what she just did.