Chapter Thirty Four
Fuck my life, fuck my life, seriously, just fuck my life. I repeated over and over in my head as my eyes were glued to the yellow tile wall of the kitchen. I had been sitting there for several minutes - could have actually been hours for all I know - just staring. Reassessing my life, I guess you could say.
All the meanwhile, I could hear the rhythmic thump of my sister Mya's back slightly bump into the wall as she continuously rocked back and forth, her head tucked between her legs while her hands covered her exposed body from her "knee cocoon". She looked broken, as if she was falling apart, and usually I would have felt bad for her, except I felt the exact same way.
"Stop," A voice seemed to moan in the silent room. I blankly turned around to see who it was talking, then realized with a start that it was my voice that had called out. Who was I talking to? I turned around to see Mya staring at me expectantly; her blue eyes wide and frightened as they set on me.
"Marshall's gone, Mel," She whimpered. Her eyes left mine and stared down at the floor once again. "He's gone. We're falling apart." She whispered.
I wanted to comfort her, I really did, but I couldn't find the strength to rise up from the chair and wrap my arms around her or whatever she needed. She was right, the Muses were right, even Aerial and Azrael were right: my life was bound to fall apart.
They didn't exactly say those exact words, but they all meant the same thing. According to the Muses, I needed to lose things, which I guess excluded them taking away my powers, and Aerial and Azrael were hell-bent on exterminating me from this earth; that was apparent.
I just never thought they were right.
But here I am, sitting in my kitchen with my little sister rocking back and forth crazily as we both slowly fall apart. And it's all my fault. It really is all my fault. I didn't mean for it to happen, I didn't want it to happen, but here it is.
I heard another murmur from Mya's side and lazily slouched my head over to her direction. She wiggled onto her legs, knees literally knocking together, until she collapsed onto the ground, smacking her cheek against the floor and simply lying there.
"Get off the ground," I groaned, sliding my hand down my face slowly. I watched silently as she moaned before getting up on all fours. A few tears rolled down her face as she started to crawl down the hallway to her bedroom, and I gave up on watching her and returned back to my wall staring.
I slumped my head down onto the table, my arms folded underneath me. I was tired, extremely tired, but I didn't want to go to sleep. A part of me was hoping that Marshall would come back in, realizing that he and Dad could work it out, and he didn't have to leave permanently. But the realistic part of me knew at once that he wasn't coming back.
I know my brother, and when he makes a decision, he sticks to it. He doesn't go back on his word; one of his greatest qualities.
Except for the fact that it's coming to bite me back in the ass.
I don't care what anyone says; I'm not going to school tomorrow. I sighed to myself in my head. Sitting here doing nothing in turn, wasn't doing anything. Too tired and lazy to move, I simply closed my eyes and drifted into a seemingly peaceful sleep on my kitchen table.
I thought I would sleep well, but the dream I had was a terrible bloodbath.
The first thing I heard was screaming, bloodcurdling screams that were crying for help. I could hear the roaring sound of flames behind me, and realized with a start that there was a blazing fire. Why were there so many people screaming, where was I?
I felt my legs jerk underneath me involuntarily, and awoke. My eyes flew to the ceiling, and my arm suddenly jerked out from its place, gripping onto the unfamiliar end table next to the unfamiliar bed I was sleeping on. My body started to move and do actions I wasn't forcing myself to do, and I realized with a start that I was actually watching myself; it wasn't me actually doing it.
So this is a dream. I thought to myself, quietly observing. I watched as I got up from my bed, but instead of panicking and freaking out like I usually would, I simply sat on the edge of the bed, cocking my head to the side as if I was listening for something.
What the hell am I doing? I asked confusedly. I watched curiously as I bent my leg even farther and let out a gasp when my neck let out a sickening crack. I was wearing a nightgown - which was weird since usually I just pass out in the clothes I'm wearing minus my pants - with the top collarbone exposed. I could see the top of my vertebrae, which was oddly poking through my skin as if I was sickly and gaunt.
I arose to my feet, stretching my arms up high which let out another stomach-curdling crack while I bent my neck backwardly at an odd angle. I was stunned to see that my eyes were a glowing red, and large, lengthy fangs were exposed from my mouth.
I drew up my hand, a pained but evil-looking expression on my face as I bent back my head and dragged my palm on the pointy ends of my fangs, and drew a gray, wispy substance from my hands that traveled into my mouth. I seemed delighted as I drew in the scent, shivering and licking my lips at the end.
I was disturbed at what I had just witnessed. The wispy thing I had drawn out of my hand; I knew at once that it wasn't some sort of weird air. It was…my soul.
I don't know how I knew that, but a tugging ache in my heart told me that it was the truth.
It's just like with the captain of that ship, I recalled, thinking back to my last dream. It was unusual; I used to have dreams almost every single night, ranging from blissfully epic to downright night terrors, but now, I barely even had them. And when I did have them, they were compilations of me eating people souls.
Except…I'm eating my soul. What in the hell is wrong with me? I gasped in my head. Just what exactly was I even watching, here? Was it just a dream, and I was imagining all of this? I wouldn't be so terrified, but a part of me was convinced that this somehow happened in the past. It didn't make any sense, but still, like I said, one side of me was still convinced.
I reluctantly watched as I retracted my fangs, wiped the leftover blood on my hand across my face; smearing blood all over my mouth. I turned with a devilish grin on my face towards the door and held at my hand, my eyes slightly narrowing like I was concentrating on something.
The door broke in the middle, spraying out chips of wood while the rest of the door flew out and implanted against the wall. I lifted my hands upwards to the ceiling, and it was torn off almost immediately, as if I had created an outside force to rip it off.
My head lifted back, I examined the skies. It wasn't blue or black, but of all colors, plain white. There wasn't any air, no sound besides the fire roaring inside the house, and I realized with a start that I no longer heard any screams or really any other sounds like I had before. Just what had I done?
With a satisfied grin, I walked into the gray hallway, slowly walking and my feet making creaking sounds with each step. I reached the end of the hall where there was a spiraling staircase, and made my way down carefully, as if I was trying to avoid stepping too loudly and trying to keep quiet.
Once I reached the last step, I snapped my fingers precisely, and the entire staircase grumbled to dust and settled behind me. I smirked and let out a little laugh, as if I was greatly content with the outcome.
I took the chance to slowly observe the room, taking it all end. From the inside, I had a feeling that it was probably a house from the Victorian Era/Queen Anne Era or whatever you call it with the high ceiling, the once spiraling gray staircase, grand archway to the kitchen, purple and gold trim furniture, and the overall sightings gave me the sensation that I was in a house in England during the 1700's or something like that.
After observing the room, I suddenly dropped to my knees, as if pain was crippling my standing ability as I collapsed. My wrists were pulled close to each other as if they were bound, and I had my head tilted back while I let out a mournful cry.
It was a loud, high-pitched shriek that broke all of the first floor windows and glass vases decorated around the coffee tables and ledges hanging above the fireplace. Blood started to run from my wrists, dripping down the pale pink, dragging nightgown that hung from my frail-looking body.
My hair started to lift on its own, curling at the ends as they levitated from my shoulders. I finished my scream by abruptly cutting off, my mouth hanging open and my wide silver eyes staring directly up into the white sky. My hair suddenly dropped down, the blood disappeared from my ground, and I stopped moving.
I sat there for literally a minute, motionless and staring up at the sky. I actually started to worry a little bit- did I just…die? Why in the hell wasn't I moving? Just as I was about to try and somehow wake myself up, there was a loud ripping sound. I instinctively jerked my head up to the sky, where I heard the noise from.
There was a literal rip in the bright white sky, and a dark, black portal was churning right in the middle. I was still frozen, my eyes glued to the portal, as black circular dots began to fall out of the portal and align themselves in the sky. The way they were moving and how they aligned next to each other; it looked like a specifically planned movement.
I was mesmerized by the dance and movement of the dots, so entranced that I didn't notice a dark shape plummet from the portal and fall all the way down into the house, right in front of me. When I heard the loud thump, I immediately looked over to examine what happened.
Finally moving, instead of staring up into the sky, my eyes were focused on the shape in front of me. I realized that it was a person in a crouched position, but they were covered entirely in black. Whatever covered them; it was a beautiful midnight-blue shade of black, but I didn't know exactly what the actual material was.
Eyes still trained on the person in front of me, I slowly gathered to my feet, standing straight up, from my knees. My hands were straight, tucked in closely to my sides, and I stared down, the expression on my face unreadable, as I seemed to wait for something.
The black material covering the person in front of me shifted to the side slightly, rocking back in forth. The cover lifted, revealing pale skin and dark brown hair. The guy - who looked about six feet tall, broad shoulders and overall, scary looking - stood to his feet, and I almost let out a gasp.
He looked just like Evan; Ivan's twin brother.
The only difference was his eyes; a blood-red instead of the usual dark brown I had once seen them as. There was an evil grin crossed over his face as he looked me up and down. He bent down, cradling my face in his giant man hands, and kissed me.
I almost felt myself faint. If it were a movie theatre, it would have been the point that I yelled, "I'm done!" And walked out of the movie theatre. Evan just kissed. Evan, of all the freaking heterosexual teenage, males on this earth, he had to kiss me. The weird, evil version of me.
"I've missed you my love," He said, his red eyes staring intently at me. I felt myself flinch back a little; his voice sounded like two talking at once. It was unimaginably creepy to hear.
"What took you so long?" I grumbled, our eyes locked onto each other's. I watched curiously as I lifted my hand, extending my fingernails to an incredible length, and dug them deep into Evan's shoulder. He barely even flinched, just let out a hissing noise through his teeth, as I dragged my fingernails down his skin.
I expected blood to spill out, but instead, a black, wispy substance started to float from the cuts I made, and I realized it was his soul that was oozing out like a fountain. The image looked strangely familiar to me, and I was reminded back to when I'd had that one cut on my left arm, and when I'd woken up and Dre had bandaged it, that black, inky stuff had started to float up from my arm.
When we were in the Twilight Realm, Dre had said the inky substance was acid floating from the ground, and the cloud reabsorbed it. His soul was made of…acid? Goddamn.
Evan laughed, the expression on his face not changing, as if he had just told some hilarious joke. "Not yet, my dear, but soon," He said, still in his creepy voice.
"Soon is too long," I hissed, tightening my grip onto Evan. "I want you now." I growled.
"Then let's relieve our tension in another way." He said in a risqué tone.
From the looks on their faces, it seemed like they were sharing an inside joke or secret that I didn't know about. I watched, confused, as they leaned in and began to kiss, grasping at each other wildly and scratching at each other, almost ripping their clothes to shreds.
Oh. Ohh. OH. I finally started to realize. They were about to…go out. Actually, I was about to go at it! With Evan!
Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up! I urged myself, shaking my body violently back and forth, praying that I would wake up. I did, just in time, as Evan and I had already ripped off all of each other's clothes and were naked right in the middle of the floor.
"Holy shit," I breathed, jumping up from my lying position into a sitting one. My heart was racing, slamming against my rib cage and chest; I couldn't calm myself down. My back was drenched in cold sweat, the little baby hairs on the nape of my neck sticking to my sweaty skin.
"Jesus Christ," I breathed as I laid back down on my side, facing the staircase. My breath started to slow back to a normal place, and I finally calmed myself. Now that I was awake, I didn't feel like going back to sleep; I felt oddly energized. I rolled over to my other side to see what time it was and found out it was only three in the morning. I had three more hours of sleep that I could use.
I let out a groan as I shifted so that I was lying on my back and staring up at the ceiling. My muscles were aching; I felt like I had a dozen bruised bones in my limbs and back. My chest was sore just from moving up and down as my lungs filled with oxygen. My mom and dad had better let me stay home today.
Mom and Dad…I echoed again in my head. I really, really hoped they figured out everything with Marshall. Dad had really done some damage, and I wasn't sure if Marshall would ever come back. When it came to Luna, he was extremely overprotective, and the way Dad bashed on them as if they committed a crime probably convinced Marshall to never come back again.
I tried to shake away the images of me and Evan getting it on, when I heard the sound of a key slipping into a keyhole on a door. I instantly sat back up, trying to identify the noise, and heard the creak of the front door opening.
Immediately, I knew it was Marshall. Barely able to contain my excitement, I threw back the covers in a hurry, jumped out of the bed, and ran up the staircase. I skid around the corner of the hallway, almost close to the front door.
"Marshall! You're back!" I yelled to the cloaked figure standing in the doorway. As I ran up to him, I realized with a start that it wasn't Marshall. It was a female, an unfamiliar one at that.
Fear coursed through my veins as I tried to turn on my heel and run to my parents that there was an intruder in my house - even though I was stupid enough not to lock the door before going the bed - but I wasn't able to scream as the intruder wacked me upside the head with a blunt object.
I fell down to the floor, knocked out cold.