A/N: Coleo you remembered the chapter title! Well done you!
Chapter Three: Deterioration
It had been three days since Paige had murdered someone. Piper and Phoebe had tried to remain in constant contact with her, but she'd refused most of their attempts at keeping in touch.
She had sunk into depression.
The idea of her being 'evil' wouldn't leave her mind - during the day she couldn't eat for worrying. At night, when she finally managed to slide her way into sleep it dominated her dreams.
Her dreams.
She'd done unspeakable things in them. Murder, torture, pain, hurt, inflicting loss, destruction... this put her mind into a turmoil. Her paranoia was strong; she screened her calls. Mostly from Piper or Phoebe, urgently begging her to contact them. She would never. They didn't know where she lived - good.
Work hadn't been an issue so far, her boss had called and left a message telling her to take a few days off after 'the incident'. She didn't care. She didn't know if she'd ever go back there again. Not after what happened.
All that was on Paige's mind was the creeping feeling of evil clawing it's path into her heart. Or, she thought it was. She couldn't tell what was real and what was in her mind. Everything? Nothing? It was impossible to tell. She couldn't trust herself to tell the difference. Would she ever be able to trust herself? Whatever was inside her, it was eating her alive.
Frustration.
Her home was a mess. It wasn't even her home any more, it was her hide-away. All of her possessions littered the place - reflecting the mess in her mind - in a jumble of her personality. Everything that could be conceived as a weapon was neatly lined up several feet from where she now sat, palms gripping at her temples, sweating, crouched down, back against the wall.
She was beginning to get angry again. It came quickly, the feeling of overheating and that irrational urge to let it all out. She suddenly stood up and jerked herself away from the wall, wrenching one of her shoes off and stumbling over to her mirror. Head cocked, she examined her reflection.
'Who am I,' she thought furiously, 'What am I?'
The mirror offered no answers. Paige continued to stare, to look into her eyes and see what was going on behind them. That's when it happened.
A black shadow passed over the Paige in the mirror. It was so quick that it was a miracle Paige had even seen it.
With a sharp intaking breath, Paige stepped back a few paces, her wide eyes not leaving the reflection, staring back. Was it smiling at her?
"No," she uttered, and sharply turned away.
She needed to find something to concentrate on. The past few days had been so idle, her mind had nothing to focus on but her deterioration. What to do, what to do...
Paige remembered something she didn't want to remember. But she did. She was a witch now. She had powers. And those powers needed honing and work. Even if she didn't want anything to do with it, it might stop her from going crazy!
Thinking of the stunt in the church with the candle, when she'd simply said the word and it had appeared in her hand, Paige twisted to see the array of 'weapons' she'd laid out.
Narrowing her eyes slightly, she held out her hand and gave the command: "knife."
Nothing.
But she'd - she'd used this power already... she'd killed someone with it! Did she need to fill herself with some sort of emotion?
"Knife," she repeated, her voice pleading and desparate. And this time, it slowly disintegrated into tiny little orbs and appeared in her hands.
She fingered the blade. She liked the feeling of holding a weapon, it made her feel safer and definitely stronger. She tossed it down with the rest. More practise, bigger things.
"Book," she said. The phone directory's weight made her hand drop a little, but she regained it.
"Lamp."
And her work began. She went through many objects in her space, gradually working her way to bigger and heavier things. She was tiring now, but it felt so good to be able to concentrate on something! All her worries were pushed to the back of her mind as she worked, getting stronger in power as well as soul.
Then she once again faced the mirror. It was a big one, full length, and had it's own stand. It was elaborately decorated, an antique, and came with a hefty weight. Was she ready? She wouldn't be able to hold it, but if she could orb it over to her side then she'd feel like she'd really achieved something. Her reflection watched her apprehesively as she prepared herself.
"Okay Paige," she told herself, "let's go."
She outstretched her hand with confidence. "Mirror," she said in a commanding tone. Nothing happened. "Mirror," she repeated, her voice remaining strong. "Mirror!" She was beginning to sound urgent. She could feel frustration overcoming her. "Mirror!"
The Paige in the mirror smirked.
Paige withdrew her hand and flung it out again, as if she was throwing something. "Mirror!" She shouted, possessed with rage.
A bright red steaming hot energy ball flew from her hand and slammed into the mirror, shattering it and cracking all the wood. Glass flew everywhere, shards embedded themselves in Paige's flesh and the deafening noise was yet nothing compared to the roaring in Paige's ears.
What had she done?
Chapter Three: Deterioration
It had been three days since Paige had murdered someone. Piper and Phoebe had tried to remain in constant contact with her, but she'd refused most of their attempts at keeping in touch.
She had sunk into depression.
The idea of her being 'evil' wouldn't leave her mind - during the day she couldn't eat for worrying. At night, when she finally managed to slide her way into sleep it dominated her dreams.
Her dreams.
She'd done unspeakable things in them. Murder, torture, pain, hurt, inflicting loss, destruction... this put her mind into a turmoil. Her paranoia was strong; she screened her calls. Mostly from Piper or Phoebe, urgently begging her to contact them. She would never. They didn't know where she lived - good.
Work hadn't been an issue so far, her boss had called and left a message telling her to take a few days off after 'the incident'. She didn't care. She didn't know if she'd ever go back there again. Not after what happened.
All that was on Paige's mind was the creeping feeling of evil clawing it's path into her heart. Or, she thought it was. She couldn't tell what was real and what was in her mind. Everything? Nothing? It was impossible to tell. She couldn't trust herself to tell the difference. Would she ever be able to trust herself? Whatever was inside her, it was eating her alive.
Frustration.
Her home was a mess. It wasn't even her home any more, it was her hide-away. All of her possessions littered the place - reflecting the mess in her mind - in a jumble of her personality. Everything that could be conceived as a weapon was neatly lined up several feet from where she now sat, palms gripping at her temples, sweating, crouched down, back against the wall.
She was beginning to get angry again. It came quickly, the feeling of overheating and that irrational urge to let it all out. She suddenly stood up and jerked herself away from the wall, wrenching one of her shoes off and stumbling over to her mirror. Head cocked, she examined her reflection.
'Who am I,' she thought furiously, 'What am I?'
The mirror offered no answers. Paige continued to stare, to look into her eyes and see what was going on behind them. That's when it happened.
A black shadow passed over the Paige in the mirror. It was so quick that it was a miracle Paige had even seen it.
With a sharp intaking breath, Paige stepped back a few paces, her wide eyes not leaving the reflection, staring back. Was it smiling at her?
"No," she uttered, and sharply turned away.
She needed to find something to concentrate on. The past few days had been so idle, her mind had nothing to focus on but her deterioration. What to do, what to do...
Paige remembered something she didn't want to remember. But she did. She was a witch now. She had powers. And those powers needed honing and work. Even if she didn't want anything to do with it, it might stop her from going crazy!
Thinking of the stunt in the church with the candle, when she'd simply said the word and it had appeared in her hand, Paige twisted to see the array of 'weapons' she'd laid out.
Narrowing her eyes slightly, she held out her hand and gave the command: "knife."
Nothing.
But she'd - she'd used this power already... she'd killed someone with it! Did she need to fill herself with some sort of emotion?
"Knife," she repeated, her voice pleading and desparate. And this time, it slowly disintegrated into tiny little orbs and appeared in her hands.
She fingered the blade. She liked the feeling of holding a weapon, it made her feel safer and definitely stronger. She tossed it down with the rest. More practise, bigger things.
"Book," she said. The phone directory's weight made her hand drop a little, but she regained it.
"Lamp."
And her work began. She went through many objects in her space, gradually working her way to bigger and heavier things. She was tiring now, but it felt so good to be able to concentrate on something! All her worries were pushed to the back of her mind as she worked, getting stronger in power as well as soul.
Then she once again faced the mirror. It was a big one, full length, and had it's own stand. It was elaborately decorated, an antique, and came with a hefty weight. Was she ready? She wouldn't be able to hold it, but if she could orb it over to her side then she'd feel like she'd really achieved something. Her reflection watched her apprehesively as she prepared herself.
"Okay Paige," she told herself, "let's go."
She outstretched her hand with confidence. "Mirror," she said in a commanding tone. Nothing happened. "Mirror," she repeated, her voice remaining strong. "Mirror!" She was beginning to sound urgent. She could feel frustration overcoming her. "Mirror!"
The Paige in the mirror smirked.
Paige withdrew her hand and flung it out again, as if she was throwing something. "Mirror!" She shouted, possessed with rage.
A bright red steaming hot energy ball flew from her hand and slammed into the mirror, shattering it and cracking all the wood. Glass flew everywhere, shards embedded themselves in Paige's flesh and the deafening noise was yet nothing compared to the roaring in Paige's ears.
What had she done?