Hey y'all. Sorry I haven't updated on my normal times, but in being out-of-
town I couldn't take my work with me...So if you add up all the times I was
out of town, it would equal a little over 3 weeks.
So I'm very far behind in my writings, and I'm hurrying as fast as I can...
ALSO: My muse left me for awhile, and it just decide to come back - It's a little rusty - So if things seem a little long and weird. It's the muses fault. Not mine...LOL!
Chapter 32: The Only Way
"Mary Marvolo Riddle?" Chanse gasped.
"Yes," Mary smiled up at Chanse.
"But everyone knows that Lord Voldemort is Tom Riddle," Chanse said with a little confusion in her voice.
"That they do," Mary nodded.
"And they know about his father, and mother," Chanse voice sounded as if it was solving a murder mystery, as she stared down at the floor.
Mary nodded her head in agreement, "Everyone knows of that too."
Chanse looked up, from the floor, at Mary, "But no one has ever heard of you..." Chanse's voice trailed off.
Mary sighed, "That's because I was killed at a young age," She held her hands out, gesturing to her own appearance. "That's why I look young. I was killed at the age of seven." Mary turned and gestured towards Tom, "And that's why Tom is that young. He was almost eighteen before he turned himself into Voldemort."
Chanse looked over at Tom, and then back at Mary, "You were..." The words stuck in her throat and she couldn't force them out.
"Murdered?" Mary said bluntly, "Yes."
Chanse took a deep breath in shock as she heard the word, "murder". "But how? Why? Who?" All the questions came pouring out of Chanse, and she could stop herself.
Mary chuckled, "Calm down."
'How could any murder a child?' Chanse thought is disgust and sadness.
"It the text book what do they say about Tom Riddle's past?" Mary asked calmly.
Chanse searched through her brain, trying to remember what they had said, 'Oh I wish I paid more attention in History of Magic.' She scolded herself.
It came to her.
"They said that his mother died and his father abandoned him."
"That's correct. Not the answer I was looking for, but still correct," Kirstyn laughed.
"What answer were you looking for?"
"Did it say anything about how Tom felt towards his father?
"Yeah," Chanse nodded, "It said he hated him...which I don't blame him."
"No one ever did." Mary chuckled, "But do you know why he hated him?"
"Well I'm not quite sure, because I wasn't paying attention in class," Chanse chuckled, "but I'm guessing because his father abandoned him?"
"That's correct. But what happens if there was another reason? A reason no one ever knew about because Tom could never bring himself to talk about it?"
Chanse stopped and thought. "You?"
Mary nodded, "Me."
"Your murder?"
"Yes."
"Your father murdered you?"
Mary looked down at the ground and slowly nodded. "He did."
Chanse gasped, "How could he?" He looked at to the sky in disgust, "His own daughter!"
Mary looked up at Chanse, "I know." Mary began to slowly walk around the stage, "People that are in the position that I used to be in, think that it's their fault." Mary looked over her shoulder at Chanse, "All these years I thought it was my fault...but recently I've realized it wasn't." She went back to walking around, "It was my father's fault, and my father's fault alone."
Chanse stared off in disbelief. 'His own daughter. He murdered his own daughter' Her thoughts ran over and over again, like a broken recorder player.
"What happened?" Chanse managed to choke out of her throat.
Mary stopped at a side of the stage. She didn't look back at Chanse. She just stared at the ground. "My father had come from work one night, and went to my room. He found it a mess and he started to scream at me to clean it up. I started to get to work on cleaning it right away," Mary's voice was soft. "He left the house and went to the local bar. He began to drink," Mary paused.
Chanse closed her eyes as she could she everything Mary was describing.
"Well he came back from the bar, very drunk. He stormed up to my room and flung the door open," she took a deep breath in. "I remember so clearly. Right as the light from the hallway traveled into my room, I was hanging up my long white skirt."
Mary looked over her shoulder at Chanse, "I loved that skirt."
She returned her gaze back down at the ground, and began to speak softly again. "He started to yell at me. He started saying that he wished I was never born. He started throwing things against my walls. He walked over to me and grabbed both of my arms. He shook he hard and yelled at me through his slurred words."
Mary paused, and then imitated her father, "Do you not understand? Are you stupid? I come home from work and expect a clean house!"
Mary took a deep breath in and continued her story in a soft voice. "I started to cry. His grip on my arms hurt so bad. I remember crying and telling him I was sorry. He kept screaming, "Sorry? SORRY?! You'll be sorry after I punish you."" Mary paused.
"He first slapped me across the face. I fell to the floor, holding my face, and crying more. He told me to stop crying." Mary paused again. "I couldn't. My face hurt too much."
Mary began to walk around the stage again. "I told him time and time again that my face hurt and to stop...but he didn't. Blow after blow. Slowly his slaps turned to punches, as his eyes grew with fire. He was like a madman."
Mary stopped walking, "Then suddenly," she turned around and looked at Chanse, "everything went black
Chanse gasped.
"Time and time again I'm reincarnated as a new person, but I'm still Mary Marvolo Riddle. And I always have an older brother," she looked back over at Tom, "Tom Marvolo Riddle." She paused. "My soul hasn't been able to rest until Tom found Voldemort." Mary smiled, "Soon I will be able to rest."
Chanse stared at Mary in shock. She didn't know what to do or say, but she knew not only was she seeing Mary but she was also seeing Kirstyn.
The words escaped Chanse's lips in a gasp, "Kirstyn."
"I am no longer Kirstyn," Mary stepped forward towards Chanse, "I am Mary Riddle."
"You're still Kirstyn in my eyes," Chanse stood tall. "And I'm not leaving."
Mary faintly smiled, "You still see me as the little girl you used to scoop into your arms. The little girl that had the warmest of touches...even in my true form, as Mary, you still see Kirstyn, don't you?"
"Yes."
Mary turned and faced Tom, "When you look at him do you still see Milo?"
Chanse took a deep breath in and stared over at Tom. "No."
Mary turned back around to face Chanse, "Then, if you can't see Milo in Tom, how can you see Kirstyn in me?"
Chanse didn't move her gaze at Tom, "Because Milo, or Tom, or whomever you want to call him, has changed. The real Milo was sweet, and kind to everyone..."
That he was," Mary said in almost a whisper.
"But this new Milo, or Tom as you call him," Chanse took a step forward. "He's cold, and cruel. He seems to have no heart, while Milo's was huge."
"Things don't seem to be what they appear to be." Mary whispered as she stepped next to Chanse, "When you look at me," she paused. "What do you see?"
Chanse turned her gaze from Tom and looked down at Mary, "I see a different face, but I see the same heart." Chanse sighed.
"But you still see Kirstyn?" Mary said almost in disappointment.
Chanse nodded slowly, "Yes."
Mary looked down and spoke softly, "You used to always tell Kirstyn that she had the warmest touch..." Her voice trailed off.
"That no matter how cold someone's heart was your touch could warm it." Chanse said with a soft smile.
Mary slowly looked up at Chanse. "Does this touch," Mary took Chanse's hand in hers, "feel warm to you?"
Chanse took a deep breath in, as the Mary's hand was ice cold. There wasn't a single feeling of warmth inside of Mary's hand. Chanse looked back up at Mary and whispered, "No."
"Then how can I still be Kirstyn, if I don't have a warm touch to melt even the coldhearted's hearts?"
Chanse opened her mouth to respond, but she had no true answer. Maybe it was because she didn't want to believe that all this was happening. That any minute now she'd wake up and this would all be a bad dream she had, and she'd go back to her regular life. She loved her magical life and everyone in it, but right now she would have done anything just to go back to normal.
'Even if it means losing great memories,' Chanse thought, 'even ones like Cho and I spending detention together.' She smiled.
Chanse felt her heart wrench and the feeling of her ribcage closing tightly on top of her heart. She gripped a part of her vest and shirt, the part above her heart.
"Chanse?" Mary whispered.
Chanse looked down at her and weakly smiled. "I'm alright."
"Chanse are you sure? You don't look alright." Mary said with concern filling her voice.
"I'm fine." Chanse snapped.
"If you say so," Mary whispered as she looked down at the ground.
"Oh but you're not," a voice hissed. "Please tell little Kirstyn the truth Potter. Tell her you're dying."
Chanse looked up and saw Tom standing up.
"You're dying?" Mary asked.
"Oh dear naive Kirstyn or course she is and I'm the one who placed the curse on her for her to die." Tom looked up at Mary, his mouth slightly dropped open.
"As you can see, dear brother, I am no longer Kirstyn but your true sister, Mary."
"But...How?" Tom gasped.
"I don't know," Mary stepped forward, "but I do know I'm sick of you hurting and killing people."
"Mary..."
No Tom. You're not the person who I called brother when I was alive. I watched you hurt people far too long."
"Mary I've changed because of the wrong the world has done to me."
"So in turn you hurt them?!" Mary gasped. "The brother I knew would try his hardest to shrug it off and go on with his life."
"The brother you knew had a little sister!" Tom shouted.
"I still am your little sister!" Mary changed back into Kirstyn. "Whether it's in this form or in my true form," she changed back into Mary.
"The brother you knew could have stopped father...I didn't stop him." Tom whispered, as he looked down at the stage.
Mary took a step forward, "Tom," she reached out to him and then drew her hand back, "The father we both knew was a cruel man. He wasn't nice or caring, like most father, but he still was our father."
"No he wasn't." Tom spat.
"To you he might not have been, but to me he was."
"How can you say that?!" Tom shouted in disbelief.
"Because. I saw him afterwards. I watched him. He hurt just like you hurt...Deep down he was caring and nice like most fathers."
"Then why didn't he show it?" Tom looked up.
"He couldn't. He didn't know how to."
"Well no matter what," Tom grew back into his evil self, "I'm whom I am. You should join sister. The two Riddles could rule."
Mary shook her head and took a step back, "No Tom." She said plainly.
"No? No?! NO?!" Tom shouted.
"No Tom. I'm not going to add to the horror you've created."
"I've created?! I didn't create shit. Father created my anger. Father created my hate. Father created..."
Mary interrupted, "Your pain?"
Tom's head shot up, "I don't have pain." He said coldly.
"You do too. Everyone does. And you've created enough." Mary stood her ground firmly.
"I haven't created near as much as I want to," Tom extended his hand to Mary, "Mary come with me."
"No Tom. I'm putting a stop to all this now." Mary looked sternly at Tom and she clenched her fists. "No more anger. No more hate," she took a deep breath in and said softly, "and no more pain."
"What are you talking about?"
"If I erase anger, hate, and pain from you you'll have no reason to exist. No reason to want to hurt people."
"And how are you going to do that?"
"You say father is the reason you had anger, hate, and pain, right?" Mary smirked as Tom nodded his head once. "Well the only reason you feel those is because of what father did to me, right?" Once again, Tom nodded his head. "Then in order to erase them..." She smirked as if her smirk finished her sentence.
"You wouldn't." Tom gasped.
"Tom I will."
"Don't." Tom whispered.
Mary took a step forward and stared at Tom. "I'm sorry."
"Mary..." Tom gasped and held his hand out as if to save her.
Mary walked towards Tom and took his hand.
Chanse took a deep breath in as Mary's hand touched Tom's. 'She betrayed me. Now it's one Potter to two Riddles...great.' Chanse thought.
Tom pulled Mary to him and wrapped his arms around him. "I've been waiting to hold you in my arms again." Tom whispered to Mary.
Mary wrapped her arms back around Tom, and embraced the hug. "Tom I'm not taking your side."
Tom pulled away from the hug in shock, "What?"
Mary pulled Tom back into a hug and whispered softly as she began to cry on his shirt, "I'm sorry."
Tom didn't return the hug. "What are you talking about?"
Mary pulled Tom closer and squeezed him closer to her. "I'm sorry." She repeated.
Tom looked down at his sister, "For what?" He wrapped his arms around her.
"For...I'm sorry..." Mary choked on her words as her tears ran faster down her cheek, "I'm sorry for...This being my good-bye."
"What?!" Tom gasped.
"I'm sorry Tom," Mary looked up at Tom, with tear stained cheeks, "Good- bye."
Mary began to slow glow a brilliant gold.
"Mary you can't," Tom held her closer, "No. This isn't good-bye."
Chanse watched as Mary's tears dried into the pores of Mary's skin, which made her face shine with a certain pure and holiness about her.
"Mary don't go." Tom whispered as he dropped to his knees and held Mary in his arms. "Not again...Please?"
Mary touched Tom's cheek and smiled, "You'll be with me soon enough Tom."
Tom's arms dropped from around Mary, and he watched as beautiful glowing white wings sprouted from Mary's back and spread above her. Gracefully Mary's wings beat silently and lifted her above. Chanse caught a slight whisper.
"Goodbye."
Chanse looked up at Mary and whispered back, "Goodbye."
"No!" Tom stood up and stared up as his sister disappeared above. "No. She's not gone!"
"She's at peace now, Tom. She finished what she was here to do. Say her goodbye to you." Chanse whispered.
"NO! She can't go! NOT AGAIN!" Tom screamed, and started to glow an intense red.
Chanse opened her mouth to say something, but Tom's glowing increased and Chanse couldn't speak. Tom's body's glow grew more and more intense by the seconds.
Within a few seconds Tom was glowing bright red and he had sprouted fiery red wings from his back.
Chanse's eyes grew wild at the red wings on Tom. 'Years of hate and anger,' Chanse thought as she focused back on Tom.
"She will not leave me!" Tom yelled.
"Then go to her." Chanse spoke out of nowhere, and surprisingly calm.
Tom threw his arms in the air and with a gigantic rupture of red lights Tom was gone.
Chanse shielded her eyes as the rupture exploded in front of her. When it was done she slowly lowered her hands and looked around. 'He's gone.' She thought as she turned around in circles trying to find Tom.
She felt her body grow heavy and she quickly came to a stop. She placed her hand on her forehead as the room was spinning around her. She dropped to her knees and looked down at the ground. She felt her eyelids grow heavy as she stared at the ground. She swayed back and forth before hitting the ground...
So I'm very far behind in my writings, and I'm hurrying as fast as I can...
ALSO: My muse left me for awhile, and it just decide to come back - It's a little rusty - So if things seem a little long and weird. It's the muses fault. Not mine...LOL!
Chapter 32: The Only Way
"Mary Marvolo Riddle?" Chanse gasped.
"Yes," Mary smiled up at Chanse.
"But everyone knows that Lord Voldemort is Tom Riddle," Chanse said with a little confusion in her voice.
"That they do," Mary nodded.
"And they know about his father, and mother," Chanse voice sounded as if it was solving a murder mystery, as she stared down at the floor.
Mary nodded her head in agreement, "Everyone knows of that too."
Chanse looked up, from the floor, at Mary, "But no one has ever heard of you..." Chanse's voice trailed off.
Mary sighed, "That's because I was killed at a young age," She held her hands out, gesturing to her own appearance. "That's why I look young. I was killed at the age of seven." Mary turned and gestured towards Tom, "And that's why Tom is that young. He was almost eighteen before he turned himself into Voldemort."
Chanse looked over at Tom, and then back at Mary, "You were..." The words stuck in her throat and she couldn't force them out.
"Murdered?" Mary said bluntly, "Yes."
Chanse took a deep breath in shock as she heard the word, "murder". "But how? Why? Who?" All the questions came pouring out of Chanse, and she could stop herself.
Mary chuckled, "Calm down."
'How could any murder a child?' Chanse thought is disgust and sadness.
"It the text book what do they say about Tom Riddle's past?" Mary asked calmly.
Chanse searched through her brain, trying to remember what they had said, 'Oh I wish I paid more attention in History of Magic.' She scolded herself.
It came to her.
"They said that his mother died and his father abandoned him."
"That's correct. Not the answer I was looking for, but still correct," Kirstyn laughed.
"What answer were you looking for?"
"Did it say anything about how Tom felt towards his father?
"Yeah," Chanse nodded, "It said he hated him...which I don't blame him."
"No one ever did." Mary chuckled, "But do you know why he hated him?"
"Well I'm not quite sure, because I wasn't paying attention in class," Chanse chuckled, "but I'm guessing because his father abandoned him?"
"That's correct. But what happens if there was another reason? A reason no one ever knew about because Tom could never bring himself to talk about it?"
Chanse stopped and thought. "You?"
Mary nodded, "Me."
"Your murder?"
"Yes."
"Your father murdered you?"
Mary looked down at the ground and slowly nodded. "He did."
Chanse gasped, "How could he?" He looked at to the sky in disgust, "His own daughter!"
Mary looked up at Chanse, "I know." Mary began to slowly walk around the stage, "People that are in the position that I used to be in, think that it's their fault." Mary looked over her shoulder at Chanse, "All these years I thought it was my fault...but recently I've realized it wasn't." She went back to walking around, "It was my father's fault, and my father's fault alone."
Chanse stared off in disbelief. 'His own daughter. He murdered his own daughter' Her thoughts ran over and over again, like a broken recorder player.
"What happened?" Chanse managed to choke out of her throat.
Mary stopped at a side of the stage. She didn't look back at Chanse. She just stared at the ground. "My father had come from work one night, and went to my room. He found it a mess and he started to scream at me to clean it up. I started to get to work on cleaning it right away," Mary's voice was soft. "He left the house and went to the local bar. He began to drink," Mary paused.
Chanse closed her eyes as she could she everything Mary was describing.
"Well he came back from the bar, very drunk. He stormed up to my room and flung the door open," she took a deep breath in. "I remember so clearly. Right as the light from the hallway traveled into my room, I was hanging up my long white skirt."
Mary looked over her shoulder at Chanse, "I loved that skirt."
She returned her gaze back down at the ground, and began to speak softly again. "He started to yell at me. He started saying that he wished I was never born. He started throwing things against my walls. He walked over to me and grabbed both of my arms. He shook he hard and yelled at me through his slurred words."
Mary paused, and then imitated her father, "Do you not understand? Are you stupid? I come home from work and expect a clean house!"
Mary took a deep breath in and continued her story in a soft voice. "I started to cry. His grip on my arms hurt so bad. I remember crying and telling him I was sorry. He kept screaming, "Sorry? SORRY?! You'll be sorry after I punish you."" Mary paused.
"He first slapped me across the face. I fell to the floor, holding my face, and crying more. He told me to stop crying." Mary paused again. "I couldn't. My face hurt too much."
Mary began to walk around the stage again. "I told him time and time again that my face hurt and to stop...but he didn't. Blow after blow. Slowly his slaps turned to punches, as his eyes grew with fire. He was like a madman."
Mary stopped walking, "Then suddenly," she turned around and looked at Chanse, "everything went black
Chanse gasped.
"Time and time again I'm reincarnated as a new person, but I'm still Mary Marvolo Riddle. And I always have an older brother," she looked back over at Tom, "Tom Marvolo Riddle." She paused. "My soul hasn't been able to rest until Tom found Voldemort." Mary smiled, "Soon I will be able to rest."
Chanse stared at Mary in shock. She didn't know what to do or say, but she knew not only was she seeing Mary but she was also seeing Kirstyn.
The words escaped Chanse's lips in a gasp, "Kirstyn."
"I am no longer Kirstyn," Mary stepped forward towards Chanse, "I am Mary Riddle."
"You're still Kirstyn in my eyes," Chanse stood tall. "And I'm not leaving."
Mary faintly smiled, "You still see me as the little girl you used to scoop into your arms. The little girl that had the warmest of touches...even in my true form, as Mary, you still see Kirstyn, don't you?"
"Yes."
Mary turned and faced Tom, "When you look at him do you still see Milo?"
Chanse took a deep breath in and stared over at Tom. "No."
Mary turned back around to face Chanse, "Then, if you can't see Milo in Tom, how can you see Kirstyn in me?"
Chanse didn't move her gaze at Tom, "Because Milo, or Tom, or whomever you want to call him, has changed. The real Milo was sweet, and kind to everyone..."
That he was," Mary said in almost a whisper.
"But this new Milo, or Tom as you call him," Chanse took a step forward. "He's cold, and cruel. He seems to have no heart, while Milo's was huge."
"Things don't seem to be what they appear to be." Mary whispered as she stepped next to Chanse, "When you look at me," she paused. "What do you see?"
Chanse turned her gaze from Tom and looked down at Mary, "I see a different face, but I see the same heart." Chanse sighed.
"But you still see Kirstyn?" Mary said almost in disappointment.
Chanse nodded slowly, "Yes."
Mary looked down and spoke softly, "You used to always tell Kirstyn that she had the warmest touch..." Her voice trailed off.
"That no matter how cold someone's heart was your touch could warm it." Chanse said with a soft smile.
Mary slowly looked up at Chanse. "Does this touch," Mary took Chanse's hand in hers, "feel warm to you?"
Chanse took a deep breath in, as the Mary's hand was ice cold. There wasn't a single feeling of warmth inside of Mary's hand. Chanse looked back up at Mary and whispered, "No."
"Then how can I still be Kirstyn, if I don't have a warm touch to melt even the coldhearted's hearts?"
Chanse opened her mouth to respond, but she had no true answer. Maybe it was because she didn't want to believe that all this was happening. That any minute now she'd wake up and this would all be a bad dream she had, and she'd go back to her regular life. She loved her magical life and everyone in it, but right now she would have done anything just to go back to normal.
'Even if it means losing great memories,' Chanse thought, 'even ones like Cho and I spending detention together.' She smiled.
Chanse felt her heart wrench and the feeling of her ribcage closing tightly on top of her heart. She gripped a part of her vest and shirt, the part above her heart.
"Chanse?" Mary whispered.
Chanse looked down at her and weakly smiled. "I'm alright."
"Chanse are you sure? You don't look alright." Mary said with concern filling her voice.
"I'm fine." Chanse snapped.
"If you say so," Mary whispered as she looked down at the ground.
"Oh but you're not," a voice hissed. "Please tell little Kirstyn the truth Potter. Tell her you're dying."
Chanse looked up and saw Tom standing up.
"You're dying?" Mary asked.
"Oh dear naive Kirstyn or course she is and I'm the one who placed the curse on her for her to die." Tom looked up at Mary, his mouth slightly dropped open.
"As you can see, dear brother, I am no longer Kirstyn but your true sister, Mary."
"But...How?" Tom gasped.
"I don't know," Mary stepped forward, "but I do know I'm sick of you hurting and killing people."
"Mary..."
No Tom. You're not the person who I called brother when I was alive. I watched you hurt people far too long."
"Mary I've changed because of the wrong the world has done to me."
"So in turn you hurt them?!" Mary gasped. "The brother I knew would try his hardest to shrug it off and go on with his life."
"The brother you knew had a little sister!" Tom shouted.
"I still am your little sister!" Mary changed back into Kirstyn. "Whether it's in this form or in my true form," she changed back into Mary.
"The brother you knew could have stopped father...I didn't stop him." Tom whispered, as he looked down at the stage.
Mary took a step forward, "Tom," she reached out to him and then drew her hand back, "The father we both knew was a cruel man. He wasn't nice or caring, like most father, but he still was our father."
"No he wasn't." Tom spat.
"To you he might not have been, but to me he was."
"How can you say that?!" Tom shouted in disbelief.
"Because. I saw him afterwards. I watched him. He hurt just like you hurt...Deep down he was caring and nice like most fathers."
"Then why didn't he show it?" Tom looked up.
"He couldn't. He didn't know how to."
"Well no matter what," Tom grew back into his evil self, "I'm whom I am. You should join sister. The two Riddles could rule."
Mary shook her head and took a step back, "No Tom." She said plainly.
"No? No?! NO?!" Tom shouted.
"No Tom. I'm not going to add to the horror you've created."
"I've created?! I didn't create shit. Father created my anger. Father created my hate. Father created..."
Mary interrupted, "Your pain?"
Tom's head shot up, "I don't have pain." He said coldly.
"You do too. Everyone does. And you've created enough." Mary stood her ground firmly.
"I haven't created near as much as I want to," Tom extended his hand to Mary, "Mary come with me."
"No Tom. I'm putting a stop to all this now." Mary looked sternly at Tom and she clenched her fists. "No more anger. No more hate," she took a deep breath in and said softly, "and no more pain."
"What are you talking about?"
"If I erase anger, hate, and pain from you you'll have no reason to exist. No reason to want to hurt people."
"And how are you going to do that?"
"You say father is the reason you had anger, hate, and pain, right?" Mary smirked as Tom nodded his head once. "Well the only reason you feel those is because of what father did to me, right?" Once again, Tom nodded his head. "Then in order to erase them..." She smirked as if her smirk finished her sentence.
"You wouldn't." Tom gasped.
"Tom I will."
"Don't." Tom whispered.
Mary took a step forward and stared at Tom. "I'm sorry."
"Mary..." Tom gasped and held his hand out as if to save her.
Mary walked towards Tom and took his hand.
Chanse took a deep breath in as Mary's hand touched Tom's. 'She betrayed me. Now it's one Potter to two Riddles...great.' Chanse thought.
Tom pulled Mary to him and wrapped his arms around him. "I've been waiting to hold you in my arms again." Tom whispered to Mary.
Mary wrapped her arms back around Tom, and embraced the hug. "Tom I'm not taking your side."
Tom pulled away from the hug in shock, "What?"
Mary pulled Tom back into a hug and whispered softly as she began to cry on his shirt, "I'm sorry."
Tom didn't return the hug. "What are you talking about?"
Mary pulled Tom closer and squeezed him closer to her. "I'm sorry." She repeated.
Tom looked down at his sister, "For what?" He wrapped his arms around her.
"For...I'm sorry..." Mary choked on her words as her tears ran faster down her cheek, "I'm sorry for...This being my good-bye."
"What?!" Tom gasped.
"I'm sorry Tom," Mary looked up at Tom, with tear stained cheeks, "Good- bye."
Mary began to slow glow a brilliant gold.
"Mary you can't," Tom held her closer, "No. This isn't good-bye."
Chanse watched as Mary's tears dried into the pores of Mary's skin, which made her face shine with a certain pure and holiness about her.
"Mary don't go." Tom whispered as he dropped to his knees and held Mary in his arms. "Not again...Please?"
Mary touched Tom's cheek and smiled, "You'll be with me soon enough Tom."
Tom's arms dropped from around Mary, and he watched as beautiful glowing white wings sprouted from Mary's back and spread above her. Gracefully Mary's wings beat silently and lifted her above. Chanse caught a slight whisper.
"Goodbye."
Chanse looked up at Mary and whispered back, "Goodbye."
"No!" Tom stood up and stared up as his sister disappeared above. "No. She's not gone!"
"She's at peace now, Tom. She finished what she was here to do. Say her goodbye to you." Chanse whispered.
"NO! She can't go! NOT AGAIN!" Tom screamed, and started to glow an intense red.
Chanse opened her mouth to say something, but Tom's glowing increased and Chanse couldn't speak. Tom's body's glow grew more and more intense by the seconds.
Within a few seconds Tom was glowing bright red and he had sprouted fiery red wings from his back.
Chanse's eyes grew wild at the red wings on Tom. 'Years of hate and anger,' Chanse thought as she focused back on Tom.
"She will not leave me!" Tom yelled.
"Then go to her." Chanse spoke out of nowhere, and surprisingly calm.
Tom threw his arms in the air and with a gigantic rupture of red lights Tom was gone.
Chanse shielded her eyes as the rupture exploded in front of her. When it was done she slowly lowered her hands and looked around. 'He's gone.' She thought as she turned around in circles trying to find Tom.
She felt her body grow heavy and she quickly came to a stop. She placed her hand on her forehead as the room was spinning around her. She dropped to her knees and looked down at the ground. She felt her eyelids grow heavy as she stared at the ground. She swayed back and forth before hitting the ground...