The Border of Light, Six (1)

Clacking of keyboard rose over the silence. It was my mother, typing something in the living room. I couldn't see her, from where I stood, a few steps from the living room. Light streamed from its open door, casting a deep shadow over Melanie. But I could still see the smile on her lips and the glint of triumph in her eyes.

"So what now?" I breathed.

Melanie swayed her hip to point the other way. "Now you pack your bags and let me work."

My eyes widened. “You don't mean-” I uttered and her smile confirmed my fears.

She stalked for me, steps soft on the parquet, and emerged fully into the sunlight. I froze, unable to say anything as she gave me another sideway smirk and proceeded into the living room. An unconscious step took me to the door. Inside my mother was cuddled into the couch, computer on her lap. She shuddered as Melanie approached, but made no attempt to move or even look back. I wondered if she was even aware of the priestess’s presence at this point.

Melanie leaned in, as if to whisper something in my mother’s ear and the sound of keys clacking ceased. The pendant dangled in the light, a pretty glint to its green crystal as Melanie put her hand on her shoulder. The priestess’s lips moved, but I heard no sound even with my heightened senses. My mother went slack at the inaudible sound, her head relaxing into the cushion.

I turned my eyes, the heart beating painfully inside my chest. Time seemed to stop as the thoughts swarmed me in a crushing wave. Should I stop her? But wasn’t this exactly what I wanted? An easy way out.

No, not like this.

I had to stop her.

But before I took a step, Melanie emerged before me. She said nothing, her lips curving at my stare.

“They won’t remember a thing.” she purred. “Come on.” she added, turning for the stairs.

The stairs that led to the second floor, and to my father.

I moved before I realized, hand wrapping around her wrist. She turned her marble face to me, a furrow to her delicate brow.

“Not like this.” I managed to utter, the thoughts failing to catch up with my actions.

Her eyes narrowed but for a long moment she said nothing. I refused to meet her glare, knowing full well the danger it hid, but my hand remained steady on her wrist. Not that I could let go, even if I wanted to. Another heavy moment passed before she released her scowl in a sigh.

“What other way.” she spoke, her voice no longer silky but cold, and sharp, cutting into me like daggers. “Can you protect them? What do you think you can ever do for them? They are not one of us.”

My grip weakened and taking her chance she slipped out of my reach.

“If you have a better idea, I am all ears.” she said, demand in her voice but I knew she expected no answer.

"They won’t remember anything?" I asked almost choking at the words. She shook her head. "No side effects or psychological damage?"

“Who do you think I am?” she said with a huff. “Of course not." she added when I continued to stare. Her lips contorted into a soft frown at my continuous silence. “Get your things.” she said in the end, and headed upstairs.

I didn’t stop her this time. I couldn’t. There was no going back. For a moment I let the thought sink, following after only when my feet no longer felt cemented to the floor. I passed the open door to my parents bedroom refusing to look inside. This was the best way, I told myself as I reached my own room. There was no other way, I hammered it in.

My gaze swiped my room not really seeing anything. Get my things. I had to get my things. Silent, I strolled for the closet. It had been ages since I last used my camping backpack evident by the dust I rose when I pulled it out. I stuffed a few clothes in, froze, then stuffed some more.

What would she make them think? What would become of me in their mind? Would I be dead? Or would she make them believe I ran off? Maybe I branched out into my own livelihood? Would I be there at all?

My hand stopped at my only leather jacket. This would definitely be useful. I set it aside to reach for another pair of sweatpants.

"Ready?" Melanie’s voice almost made me jump. I spied from the corner of my eye to see her lean against the doorframe.

Just how long has she been there?

“Mmm, almost.” I muttered, trying to sound natural.

“Pack light,” she said, “if you need anything we can buy it later.”

At least money wasn't going to be an issue. The Guardians always took care of necessities. Tossing her a suspicious glance I still stuck my pack of travel toiletries in. And with that, there wasn’t anything keeping me here.

I walked across to my desk, sliding the drawer open. A few sketchbooks, some scattered art supplies and my journal. Could I ever go anywhere without my journal?

I would need it. Especially now. I tossed it in the backpack as my eyes passing over the frayed edge of an old sketchbook. When did I first pick up drawing? It wasn't this life time. But it wasn’t until now that I managed to freely pursue it either. Art had never seen a better age no matter what others said.

By my first drawing sketchbook lay a good, thick, leather-bound book I had kept for when I became good enough. Just good enough. I pushed it into the bag next to the journal without thinking twice.

“Ready.” I said, grabbing my messenger bag on the way. It always had all the supplies I would ever need, ready to go. I slowed one last time by the exit. I'd miss it. The security of this dull room. But there was nothing I could do now. "There are other people who know me." I said to Melanie when I passed her.

"That’s taken care of." she said making me freeze at the top of the stairs. She had had me. Were it anyone else, I’d be punching her teeth out right now, but she was Melanie, the dark priestess, so I bit my tongue and continued down the stairs.