Demetra fled to the attic, locking the trap door from the inside and turning on the light. The room was carpeted with thick, purple material that warmed one's feet after a split second of contact. The walls were painted black, with strange, dark green swirls drifting across the arched ceiling. In the far corner of the room was a pair of huge, navy-blue bean bags, and a miniature refrigerator stocked with every assortment of junk foods for the rare occasions that her few friends came over.
On the side of the room were scattered portraits of close family and friends, moments of time plastered on the walls with tape, or framed and officially hung. The largest portrait was about a foot across, sporting the image of a teenage boy, captured at an odd angle. Almost a bird's eye view, but tilted haphazardly to let him gaze mischievously up at whoever was taking the picture. He was dressed in simple jeans and a red and white tee shirt, messy black hair obscuring one eye, but failing to cover the look of amusement his playful smirk implied.
Dema sighed, crossing the room in a few long strides and plopping down in the bean bag. For a while she merely sat and fumed, head pounding with her own heartbeat, now that the rustling of plastic beans had stopped.
A mirror laid behind the two beanbags, about body height and good for checking one's looks before stalking back downstairs after a good cry. Or rant. Or emotional outburst of any kind.
Demetra ran her fingers through long ebony hair, thinking about the strange glowing man who had made her so angry that she hadn't thought clearly. He tried to kiss her mom! KISS! HER FREAKING MOM!
She gave an involuntary shudder, standing upright and gazing at the mirror.
Something was wrong….
Her brain took a minute before realizing what she was seeing. Her footprints in the carpet where she was standing…but no her. It was if she was invisible.
Dema let out another ear-piercing shriek, leaping backward in fright, tripping over her own feet. She clutched the thick purple carpet as if it were her only lifeline, knuckles white.
She stared at the mirror again, shaken, but thankful that her reflection was present once again. Closing her eyes and releasing the carpet from a death hold, she inhaled slowly, standing upright.
This day just seemed to get better and better.
A tingling sensation along her stomach forced her to open her eyes, half expecting herself to be waking up from a strange nightmare with her mom tickling her belly with the feather duster.
Confusion and panic swept over her again… Everything looked so freaking SMALL!
She glanced toward the mirror once again, unable to see herself.
Wait…
Her eyes slowly traveled up the reflective surface, locking onto the image of her own feet.
Two Meters above the floor.
Perhaps these were the powers her mother mentioned?
Demetra wobbled, feeling much weaker. After a second of struggling to stay in the air, she collapsed back to the floor, stumbling backwards and landing on her back. Trying to ignore the pain on her bruised shoulder blade, she withdrew unto her mind, oddly calm now that she accepted the fact she was graced with supernatural abilities.
Hair spread out on the carpet in a half-circle around her head, she stared at the ceiling, dark eyes flooded with emotion.
Mostly confusion, a bit of curiosity and..well... confusion.
I need figure out how I got these powers. And who that jerk was.
My mom said to never wish for anything. Something about a ghost….
Sam had ascended the stairs, flitting up the ladder and attempting to open the trapdoor. She frowned in dismay at finding her daughter had locked it from within. She rapped sharply on the wood, calling out.
"Dema! I'm sorry about that. Please come down… I need to tell you something"
The teen jumped at the first knock, but turned her head to glare at the hatch's surface.
She had made her decision.
Dearly hoping she was right about the wish-granting ghost, dema walked nervously over to the single window that graced the dark walls, pulling back the shudders and opening the thick glass.
A cool breeze wafted over her face, brushing a few strands of her dark hair out of her face as the female leaned out, taking a deep breath.
"I WISH I COULD GO BACK IN TIME, TO MEET MY DAD, SO HE CAN HELP ME WITH MY POWERS"
Silence ensued, a few people looking up at her from the street below, quizzical and amused at the same time.
Dema's face flushed, and she ducked back into the room, feeling mortified and thankful at the same time. So the whole ghost thing wasn't real?
That still didn't help her deal with the whole glowing dude.
Dude? OH CRAP! She was starting to talk like her mom!
Demetra moaned in exasperation, flopping back into the beanbag. The crunching had barely stopped when her dark eyes flitted toward the window in alarm. She had forgotten to close it, and eerie green smoke had begun to seep through the opening.
It twisted and writhed upon itself, glowing faintly. It rose upward, imploding to create a female figure, dark hair covering one eye. Her wicked grin did nothing to calm dema's frightened state of mind.
"Ahh… Phantom's girl. I wondered why I recognized that voice"
Her purring voice sent a strong shiver upthe girl'sspine, her breath visible as a blue wisp.
The gene-looking ghost smirked in some strange amusement.
"And you inherited his abilities. This will be interesting…. "
Deseree flung her hand toward the frightened teen, a green aura surrounding her figure, lifting her into the air.
"Your desire is my command, Phantomess.. So you have wished it"
The girl started to fade from sight, darkness clouding her vision. The scream that she had previously bit back was now released in full force, terror evident.
As the last of her form vanished, and her mind was just about to collapse into darkness, she heard a cruelly amused voice echo around her skull.
"And so It shall be"
Her conscious mind was no more.
