Chapter Text
Connection.
The laugh of a child born carefree.
Loss.
The smell of grave dirt and petrichor.
Betrayal.
A cuckoo pushing an egg from the nest.
Rage.
Blood running down teeth.
Endurance.
The shrub that grows within unnatural rock.
Ignition.
The spark of something greater coming into awareness.
“Give it back,” My voice was quiet, the roiling feeling in my gut not yet reaching it.
“Give what back?” Emma had the audacity to mock confusion.
“You guys broke into my locker. You took my flute. It’s something my mom left me, something she used, that my dad gave to me so I could remember her. Just… if you’ve decided you hate me, if I said the wrong thing, or led you to believe something that wasn’t true, okay. But don’t do that to my mom. She was good to you. Don’t disrespect her memory.” I tried to keep the sheer level of respiration biting at my chest out of my words.
“If it was so valuable to you, then you shouldn’t have brought it.” Emma sneered.
“God forbid I have anything nice! What did I even do to you?”
“You're a loser. You deserve this.”
I scowled. “I thought you were better than this.”
“I am better, that's why I can do this.” She turned to leave.
I let her. Words on the tip of my tongue that I couldn't quite find.
I stewed in my frustration and despondency for the remainder of the day. In my last period, Gladly gave us a pointless handout to put in our binders. I didn't keep the heavy thing in my backpack, choosing instead to leave it in my locker for most days.
It wasn't vulnerable to most of what the Trio could do to it. Laminated pages would do that. And the plastic bag around it.
Not like there was anything of value to ruin in there now that Emma had stolen my flute.
Fuck! Of course the one thing that makes school tolerable and she ruins it!
I bit down the loathing coiling around me, schooling my face as I put in my locker code. When I opened it I was greeted by the sight of my mother’s flute. Ruined.
My token of Her was bent at a 160° angle. The keys were misshapen, as if someone used it as a bat. Something wet was smeared across the lip plate. And somehow there was a fucking razor blade shoved into the body like it was seemlessly welded it to the metal.
I shut my locker and clicked the lock in place. Stomping back to Gladly’s room re-enter. “Mr. Gladly I require your assistance.”
The man sitting at his desk, a pathetic demeanor infecting his posture now that none of the popular students stayed behind to chat with him. He looked up.
“What's the matter?”
“Somebody defaced my flute.”
“Who?”
“Maybe Emma, that's not the point. Can you please look at it?”
“Jeez, no need to take that tone.” He lazily walked up, following me to my locker. I opened it once more and showed him my ruined momento.
“What the hell?”
“I need your help to report this to Blackwell.” She hasn't taken any of my other reports seriously, maybe I just needed a staff member’s help.
He cringed. “Without a culprit she wouldn't take it seriously.” Liar. This was a crime. An investigation would find who did this!
“You said to ask you if I ever need anything.” Please. Please do something.
“I… I can't Taylor, I'm sorry.”
I came home and cried. I am so fucking frustrated with everything! Why can't I just have one, ONE thing nice in my life? Dad won't be home until midnight, I'm too much of a wreck to focus on anything, and Mom's dead.
I want to hit something. Bite something! Thrash and claw.
I want to sleep… I want for everything to just stop.
My nails dragged across my arms, white lines forming as I rip at myself.
I want my flute back. I want Dad back. I want Mom back. I want Emma back. I want my life back, damnit!
I want to be strong.
Today's the day.
I took my jacket off, tying it around my waist. My eyes scanned the hallways. I had to search for a few minutes until I spotted the Trio surrounded by their hanger-ons.
One chance at this… I took a breath out and approached.
“Hey Sophia! I wanted to talk to you.”
The group of girls parted, revealing the girl. “What do you want, Hebert?”
“C-can’t a girl gossip?” Fuck my life.
She rolled her eyes and came closer. “And what could we possibly talk about?”
Just a little closer… Fuck it, I took a step. I looked at the equally tall girl.
“Did you complete your project in chemistry?”
Confusion lit her face, she opened her mouth but my sucker punch to the gut interrupted her. I have spent months waiting for this moment and I wasn't going to waste it!
I went for another punch to the side of her head, but she recovered quicker than I expected, her faster hook catching my glasses. Thankfully not my actual frames. Still hurt!
My punch is fumbled by my shock. I sloppily went for another but she held up a guard, quickly blocking before slipping a straight through into my nose.
I try to get space, blood drumming on my ears only to get tackled from behind. Stumbling forward I let out a muffled shriek as my knees roughly slam into the tiled floor. A metal toed boot snapped across my face.
On the ground, out numbered and out matched, I have no option but to take my beating. A kick to my side. A stomp on my knee. An elbow to the spine. More and more and more.
Everything becomes a blur until darkness…
…
When I woke up everything hurt. It was bright. I peeked an eye open to see sterile white walls.
My hands bunched up the thin blanket over myself. They seethed, my jaw clenched.
“I just wanted my life back… I just wanted to be strong.” My voice was fragile. I hated it.
Why was I so weak?! I trained for months!
Will I never be able to stand up for myself? Never have the strength to protect myself?
I just want Mom's flute back.
I just want my life back.
My hands moved to my face, clutching it regardless of the sore skin. My chest was moving quickly, rapid breaths leaving my throat. I wanted to claw my eyes out, I wanted to peel my skin off. Anything, anything to just stop the crushing pressure! I forced my eyes closed as the feeling of hundreds of things crawling inside me continued to push against the boundary of my skin.
With a gasp, I was free. And something in the room stirred. No, not the room. Everywhere.
My eyes wandered, tracking rivers of energy flowing from the earth and into everything. Five colors all weaving together to form the bed, the walls, the ceiling, the lights. Without thinking, my hand came up to a thread of white energy. My fingers brushed against it, a buzz entering my arm before quickly fading. I looked down at my own self, a whirlpool of color swirling within me. Black. Red. Green. Only specs of White or Blue.
I chewed my cheek as I tried to access the energy within myself, overwhelming intrigue biting at my heels. I plucked at the internal roil within my chest, the simmering power moving to a boil.
I gasped as the bubble burst. An object manifesting from nothing before gently landing in my outstretched hands. I examined it with my hand, a thin plastic wrapped brick. The wrinkled plastic was a reflective silver on the short edges. The center portion was wrapped in a dull purple, the front face adorned with a gray oval overlaid by a chaotic collection of different fonts.
‘Magic The Gathering™’
‘Booster Pack’
‘Legends’
A card game? My face scrunched. I then realized that the energy within me was emptied, now lacking any color. The pack in my hand in contrast was buzzing with a chaotic, ever shifting tye-dye.
It felt like potential made manifest.
I hastily clawed the package open, a strange need pushing me to stabilize the chaotic energy. I pulled fifteen cards from the dissolving package.
A scorpion, a boar, some fish, a mummy, a monster, a fairy. I examined each card, reading text I don't really get, looking at the card art. Wait… there was a copyright mark and the name of the illustrators?
Pushing my questions aside, I look at the last card. Adorned in a gold background, a humanoid bug looked back at me. Despite the alien features of, well the woman, I could help but be envious.
She was femininely attractive, if overly exaggerated like those old comics I heard Greg gossip about once. Large breasts, thin waist, wide hips.
My eye twitched at the mockery in front of me. Was I being irrational? Possibly but the fact a bug was more beautiful than me was stupid!
I huffed, eyes reading its information. Xira Arien. Tree, Fire, Skull. Summon Legend. Flying. Tree Fire Skull, weird T: Target player draws a card. 1/2. A regular guest at the Royal Masquerade, Arien is the envy of the Court. She appears in a new costume every hour.
I blinked and the card changed.
/ISame name, same symbols in the top right, but it no longer said Summon and the italics changed. Even the art changed and font.
Legendary Creature - Insect Wizard
Her wits are sharp, but her blades are sharper.
Another blink and it was back to what it was originally.
What are these?
A knock at the door. I froze, quickly shoving the cards under my pillow. The door opened to show a nurse along side my Dad.
“Taylor!” He came rushing over, “How are you feeling?”
I blinked before the pain came flooding back in. “Bad.”
“What happened Taylor?” I tried to keep my face from paling. “Little Owl, what happened?”
“Could we talk about it l-later?” His face furrowed for a split second before he nodded. “Um, why am I in the hospital and not the school nurse?”
My eyes switched between the two adults, both clearly knowing something. Why would Dad ask what happened if he already knew? Did he want context or something?
The nurse spoke, nervously scratching at his scruffy face. “Ms. Hebert, you punctured a lung in your… fight.”
“I what? How? I was only kicked a little…”
“You also had an arm fracture and lost a tooth.” My hand instinctively went to check my mouth, not finding any holes. “Hmm, Panacea must have regrown it for you.”
“I needed Panacea?”
“Taylor. Lung wound.”
“Right. Right.” I turned to the nurse. “How long do I need to stay in the hospital?”
“You're free to ago as long as you eat larger portions for three weeks, I would recommend an over the counter pain killer though.”
Dad and I didn't talk on the way back, I was mostly grimacing at the bumpy Brockton Bay roads causing my bones to scream. Eventually we made it home, however. Dad helping me down the step of his truck and guiding me inside.
He placed me on the couch, my head resting upon a pillow. I closed my eyes and savored the peace while it lasted, the sound of Dad fittingly about in the kitchen sending me into a state of fragile normality.
“Taylor, why did you get into a fight?”
My throat caught, my eyes opening so I could stare hopelessly at my father.
“And why would Emma join in attacking you?”
“I… we…” It was getting hard to breathe. A sharp feeling stabbing into my palms. Was the room spinning?
Everything went dark.