Hello all! I know that I haven't updated my other story in a LONG LONG time, but I'm kind of having a tough time with it at the moment, so any ideas/help is welcome! In the mean time, I've been working on this little story, so I hope that this will "wet your appetite" for the time being. ...enjoy!
Everything happens for a reason
My mother's voice her words, this statement. It's been looming in the dark and dusty barracks of my mind for days, ever since she disappeared. She wouldn't have left, no, she couldn't have. There's just no possible way.
I let my head rest against the old and varnished oak of her door frame as I've done habitually every morning for the past three days, searching the untouched chaos of her room for anything to help me piece together this unwanted mystery. There's a part of me that hates her for deserting me, for letting herself be taken from me and for leaving me alone in this new and terrifying place. But there's another part of me, one which is much larger and more rational, that knows that something isn't right. I've been feeling this way ever since the day she vanished, without a note or even a call. That just isn't her style.
Throughout my entire thirteen years of existence, she has never done this to me. I've never been parted from her side for this long without some form of communication. I'll never leave you; you'll always know where I am, I promise. But I don't know where you are mom, and I'm frightened, actually, terrified of this new country. I'm lost without you.
I silently leave my post at the entrance of her room and float quietly towards her bed. Without a sound, I sit down and tenderly pick up a stray pillow and breathe in the scent of her perfume that has continued to linger within the fabric. I hug the pillow in close to my body as I let my eyes drift around her room. Nothing seems out of place as far as I can tell. My mother has never been immaculately neat, but apart from the small pile of clothes that had gathered in the corner, there wasn't anything that was out of the ordinary. No sign of a struggle, so she mustn't have put up much of a fight.
Out of the corner of my eye, I suddenly caught a glimpse of something that I hadn't noticed before. My hand reached for the two crinkled and aged photographs that had carelessly been tossed on to her bedside table. I had seen the pictures before and I had questioned her about them time and time again. But my mother has always been mysterious about her past and I respected that. She had simply told me that they were pictures of her family. I recognized my mother in the one picture but didn't know who the other two women were – sisters, I'm guessing because they looked so similar. I turned it over and saw that there was writing on the back in a hand that I couldn't recognize: 'Piper 23, Prudence 25, and Phoebe 20. Summer of '96.' The other picture contained a woman who was different than the others. I looked on the back for an inscription but there was none. Although my mother rarely spoke about these women, I knew that they must have meant a lot to her for she had never been anywhere without these photographs and I knew that something had to have been very wrong for her to leave the house without them.
I feel a knot begin to take shape inside of my stomach as my fear begins to escalate. She is in trouble, I can feel it, and yet I can't help her. We've only been living here for the last couple of weeks – I hadn't even been registered in a school yet. The only person that I actually know is the old widow who lives across the street, although considering the situation that has currently found itself within my unfortunate reality; I seriously doubt she would be able to offer any assistance. I fear that I'm far beyond the help of mortals.
I suddenly remember an old phone number that I've seen within my mother's address book and I know what I have to do. I open a few drawers within her vanity and finally come across its familiar leather-bound cover. My fingers quickly flip through the pages until they reach the letter H, and finally scan down to the second to last entry, 'The Manor, 1329 Prescott St., San Francisco CA.' My mother and I are currently living in Los Angeles, and during our long plane ride to California, I recall her telling me how she had grown up in San Francisco. This must be her childhood home. I continue to read the entry and notice the bolded words underneath reading "USE ONLY IN EMERGENCY"
"Well mom," I whisper softly to myself. "I hope that this qualifies as an emergency."
I pick up her cell phone hesitantly and carefully punch in each of the numbers. My heart begins to pound as I bring the tiny phone up to my ear and hear the monotonous ringing. In my other hand, I hold the picture of my mother and her assumed sisters and I decide to speak with Piper, for she appears to look the most understanding. The phone continues to ring in my ear and just as I'm about to hang up, a male voice sounding out of breath questions, "hello?"
I pause for a moment, unable to speak or even to breathe.
"Hello?" the voice questions again.
"Um... hi," I start hesitantly, embarrassed by the way my voice is audibly shaking. God P, wise up a bit you sound like a damned fool.
"Can I help you?" sounds the voice.
"Yeah," I answer meagerly, my voice still shaking. "Is... um... May I speak with... Piper Halliwell... please?"
"Yeah sure, just give me a minute," he responds.
He leaves the phone, and I immediately begin to doubt the decision that I've made. My mother's kept this part of her life so carefully guarded and I'm afraid that I'm going to ruin the life that she's built for both of us. But she's in trouble and this is the only way that I know can help her –
"Hello?" questions a visibly female voice, interrupting all of my thoughts and doubts.
"Is this Piper Halliwell?" I question stupidly, my heart racing within my chest.
"The one and only," she replies, her voice laced with sarcasm. Ha! If only she knew.
"I need your help," I blurt out, unable to think of anything else to say.
"Come again?" she questions.
"I need your help," I repeat slowly and more audibly.
There's a slight pause on the other line and I'm afraid that she's going to hang up and abandon me during my time of need. Come on, your my only hope.
"Who are you?" she sounds hesitant and unsure.
"I'm your niece," I confirm confidently.
"Ha!" I hear her laugh. "Nice try, but I don't have a niece – or any nephews for that matter, so don't try that one on me either."
"Wait! Don't hang up!" I yell desperately. "You are Piper Halliwell, are you not?"
"Yes! I've already told you that," she replies with obvious annoyance.
"Please," I respond quietly, feeling my voice crack and a lump rise up into my throat. "Please, I need your help."
The line is silent again and as I blink, a single tear escapes from my eye. I hear her sigh, and she replies simply with a quiet "Ok."
During our awkward phone conversation, Piper had agreed to come as soon as she could so we could discuss what sort of trouble I was in. I sat now within the quiet kitchen of our current house, sketching at the table in a failing attempt to settle my nerves. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of a bright light that flashes within the front room. Curiously, I creep noiselessly into a shadowed corner, away from the view of my visitors.
"Do you want me to stay?" asked a woman who I recognize from the second photograph, which I now hold tightly within my hands.
"No, Paige," the other woman who I recognize immediately as Piper responded. "I'm not in any danger; I just need to talk with the person who lives here."
"Whatever you say. You know what to do when you want to come home. Good luck!" Paige replies and just as quickly as she came, she disappears within a swirl of blue lights.
I'm not ready to face her yet, to come out of the corner that keeps me hidden from her view. She is the forbidden fruit that cannot be picked from my mother's secret garden. And yet, here she is, standing right in front of me. Temptation slithers through my mind, consuming my every thought like a disease. Part of me yearns to touch or to hold her, to reassure myself that she's standing there and not just a figment of my delusional imagination. It's all I can do to stop myself from running into her arms like a frightened child, to praise her as my saviour, or to simply break down and cry. I carefully eye her up and down and slowly take in each of her features. I compare them to my mother: About the same height, slightly fuller build, tiny scar above eyebrow, similar but uniquely distinguishable face, and the hair. Unable to turn my gaze elsewhere, for the moment I'm entranced with the way it moves and shimmers in the light as she unsurely paces within the front room. I've never seen anything like it; perfectly straight and gleaming within the fading afternoon sunlight. Undeniably darker than mine and my mother's, it glows with perfection and reminds me of the paintings that I've seen of the great goddess Athena, queen of the ancient Greek immortal world. My hands itch to sketch, to paint, to sculpt – anything to relieve my mind of her overwhelming beauty.
Momentarily hypnotized by my fascination, I silently begin to inch out of the shadow that had kept me cloaked from her sight and I feel myself drifting towards her, as if in a dream. An old floorboard creaked suddenly underneath my feet, quickly snapping me back into reality. I watch as her head whips around and her eyes catch my frightened stare before I can retreat back into the safety of my darkened corner. My heart leaps into my throat. I am caught. There she is, no more than a meter away. I can practically touch her; the forbidden apple, looming tantalizingly in front of me, the snake in my mind whispering 'just one little bite won't hurt.'
Reviews are always welcome!
PEACE