My Mother is Made of china

When I got home, I found my mother laughing at the television screen. Looking closer, I saw an image of me from a few months ago, before I moved to America. My mouth dropped open. I looked so different back then! My hair was perfectly straight, and I smiling that good-girl smile I hated. I blushed. Having the whole country see me like that was not cool. Besides, what was I doing on television?

Before I could ask, the camera switched back to the reporter.

"This is definitely a surprising turn of events. Who knew that such an obedient girl would blow up a bus, injuring the bus driver?" the reporter said. "Now, let's see what her classmate, a hardworking and vivacious student, Madison, has to say about this."

As she spoke, the reporter turned toward the student next to her. It was Madison. Her hair was tied back in a high ponytail and her lips had enough gloss to paint a section of my living room wall. She smirked at the camera. I gritted my teeth. Why did it have to be her of all people? Now, I had to stand here, helpless, and watch as she told the whole world that I was a crazy terrorist, after I had saved her stupid life! I wanted to punch a hole in the television, but my mother kept laughing.

"They really could find reason for anything! Mortals never fail to impress me," my mother said between giggles. I stared at her, uncomprehending. I didn't see why it was so funny. Was she laughing at me? On the contrary, I thought this was the worse thing that could happen after all those monster attacks. Before, whenever I came on the news, it was for good things, like winning that piano contest last time, never for something like blowing up a bus.

Besides, I didn't even touch that bus driver! Why were people all blaming me? I never did anything on that day except kill the hydra and save their lives!

I watched as Madison batted her eyelashes, flashed her charming smile and described me as "an overworking person without a life who cracked under the unnecessary stress".

I balled my fists. Why couldn't that fountain have drowned her? And did my mom find people insulting me for no reason funny?

I was about to open my mouth to start yelling at the television, when the scene on the screen switched to a report of a recent freak storm in Kentucky. My mother shut off the television.

"What -" I began.

I cleared my throat, glaring at the screen where just seconds ago, Madison's glossy, sneering lips had told everyone that I had blown up the bus. Hot, red anger surged through me, boiling through my veins and burst through a dam in my chest.

"What was so funny? And why do all of them think I caused the explosion?!" My voice rose to a shout. I knew it was not fair to my mom to yell at her like this, but I was so angry it just came spilling out. Suddenly all the control I had maintained over the past week cracked like shattering glass. I had been attacked by monsters who shouldn't exist; my mother had become someone I barely recognized and talked about things that scared and confused me half to death; I had been kicked out of school; my only friend had just disappeared into green mist and I might never see her again; and my reputation and pride had just been thoroughly smashed to pieces by that infernal report on the news channel!

I started shaking so violently I had to bury my face in my hands. Was this all just a dream? Would I wake up and find myself back in my bed in China, normal and confident and still me?

I burst into tears. It was all simply too much. I no longer cared about how weak I must look. I no longer cared about being perfect. I just stood there, and let all the confusion and fear rip through me in streams of tears.

My mother wrapped her arms around me, and I sobbed into her chest. When she spoke, her voice was soothing and gentle, washing over me. I found myself drinking it in desperately, grateful for at least something.

"It's alright, Xinyue," she soothed. "It's just part of you growing up. It'll be fine. I understand. Things may seem confusing and hopeless now, but trust me, you will find out the truth. You will.

"Do you want to try sword fighting again?" she asked after a while. "We can practice that move I showed you yesterday."

I swallowed hard, holding in a sob. I needed to get back my control. I should not be this weak! I stepped away from my mother and took a few deep breaths.

"Okay," I managed.

...

My mom didn't seem surprised to know that Willow's tree had died. I still had not wrapped my mind around the fact that she could tell the future, but I tried to just take it in, along with all the other things that made my head hurt. After all, my mom had promised that I would find out everything someday.

For the next five weeks, my routine was the same. After waking up in the morning, I had to run around the house and up and down the stairs five times until I was sweaty and out of breath, nearly fainting of exhaustion. Only after then could I have breakfast. After breakfast, I learned pressure points again, and read battle tactic books ('for future reference'). Perhaps this was for the whatever war that was going on, but I had learnt not to ask questions. The responses my mother gave raised more questions than answered.

Reading was followed by dance, then lunch, sword fighting, regular fist fighting, then finally dinner and sleep. I got to bed dying of exhaustion every night, every muscle in my body aching. However, I tried my utmost not to complain. For Willow's sake, I would train as hard as I could.

The days melted into each other in a blur of hot summer air. July snaked past. I started to count down the days left to August the 18th. Thinking about it filled me with a combination of fear, uncertainty, as excitement that sent tingled running through my spine and down to my fingertips. I did not know what that day really meant, but I knew that by that day, I would find out everything. Besides, it gave me something to focus on.

Even so, I found myself waking up in the mornings, hope fluttering inside me. Perhaps this would be the day my mom started explaining things. Perhaps I did not have to wait until August 18th, which seemed so far away. But no. By nightfall, whatever sparks of hope I had were doused by disappointment.

Then came the day at the end of July that would change my life, shaking the very foundations of the world I thought I lived in.

...

It started when my mom called me to the living room after dinner with an extremely serious expression on her face. My heart fluttered nervously. My mom never looked this serious. She was usually cheerful, light-hearted person who tried her best to make things easygoing and calm. It she was looking at me like this, it meant that something was definitely wrong.

"So..." I started, breaking the wall of tense, uncomfortable silence that hovered in the usually cheery room.

My mother took a deep breath. She looked a little pale. Her eyes were filled with an expression I could not make out - worry? Fear? Uncertainty? When she spoke, she did not sound like herself. Her voice quavered slightly, and she spoke three times as fast as her usual speaking speed.

"We don't have much time left, Xinyue. Please, just this once, listen carefully to what I am going to say. Don't interrupt, please. It could be life or death."

I was stunned into silence. Life or death? What was going on? Besides, my mom was seriously starting to worry me. If something could make her this serious and jumpy, it was definitely bad. Still, a part of me leaped, starting to hope again. Perhaps this was the time she would explain everything to me!

I braced myself, preparing for the unbelievable. I swallowed, composing myself. I was ready.

But nothing I did could have prepared me for my mother's next words.

"I am not your mother. I am a shabti."

I felt like the world had just been yanked out from under my feet. Nothing made sense anymore. What had she just said? I must have heard it wrong, right? My mother wasn't my mother? My mind started to swirl, dissolving in a vortex of chaos. What? What? WHAT? So she was... She was... My own mother was... an impostor? What was a shabti? And how could I not know if my mother was not my mother?

"The reason you didn't notice is because your mother made me, and she is one of the most powerful magicians that ever lived. I'm sorry, Xinyue, but your whole family is exiled because of improper use of magic."

I tried to digest what she had said. So my mom had magical powers? She was a magician? She was - she was - made? Did this explain the reason why all those monsters attacked me? Because of whatever reason my family was exiled?

I was too shocked to speak. Finally, I managed to choke out one word.

"Exiled?"

"The main cause of their exile is because of you."

I shook my head, feeling like a bomb had been dropped right in front of me out of a clear blue sky. What did I do wrong? I never even knew that I had a family of... of... Magicians? I could not breathe. My head spun.

My life had been a lie.

I could only watch, helpless, as every fabric of what I had known as reality was ripped away.

My mother saw my face and her expression softened. "You didn't do anything wrong of course. The exile was because your mother saw a reason to connect the two worlds, and the connection is you."

I wanted to slap my hands over my ears and block everything out. Hearing that my mother was, in fact, an impostor was driving me insane. Listening to her refer to herself in the third person was just too much to stand. I began to shake my head vigorously from side to side, as though this would make the words I was hearing less true. I wanted to go back to my normal life and my normal school with my normal classmates back in China! I didn't like the sound of "connection" and "two worlds". So I was a bridge? And what were the two worlds? As far as I know, there's only one planet with life, and I am living on it.

"You need to reach New York as fast as you can, but don't enter Manhattan until after August 18th. Do not ride planes, and switch buses as much as you can, also don't take taxis. When you get there, look for Long Island, then a camp with a pine tree with a dragon guarding it. Don't trust anyone."

I shook my head again. What kind of instructions were that? Besides, as I watched, I realized that my mother was definitely not looking right. Her usually lush hair was now dry and papery, and her lips looked pale and cracked.

"Contact your grandparents after you reach the camp. The director will know a way. Think for yourself, don't let anyone affect your decisions."

As she spoke, cracks began appearing from my mom's forehead, as though she was made of porcelain. I cried out in alarm, but she raised her hand to keep me quiet.

Her voice sounded raw and brittle. "She is proud of you, and do everything you could to make things right."

The cracks were getting bigger, spreading down on her arms and legs, her skin was turning grey, hardening and breaking right before my eyes -

"Also, bring -"

The shabti that used to be my mother crumbled. A sphere of strong, blue light emerged from her mouth and flew away, leaving the lifeless mound of china behind.

I stood there, shaking, unable to believe everything that had happened. Shakily, I put a hand to my mouth, and let myself collapse onto the ground.

Two important person to me gone in less than two months. Tears threatened to fall as I lay trembling on the ground, but I held them back with all my willpower. I needed to be strong. I needed to focus. For my own survival. For some sense in my life. For finding out what was going on.

For Willow and my mother.

My mind raced, replaying what my 'mother' had just said. The first step was to get to that camp she talked about. But how come she told me not to travel by plane? What had she been about to say? What was I supposed to bring?

I cannot decipher what had not been said. I looked around the house. It was simple, just as I had known it. There were no helpful journals that could help me understand things, no secret trap door that could give me answers.

I sighed. This is real life Xinyue, not random fantasy books!

Fantasy books... That struck a chord in my mind. I still hadn't finished that book my mom had given me. I dug it out of my closet. My grandma had told me that everything had a purpose in life. Maybe my mom had planted this book on me so that I could understand things later. Come to think of it, I did remember a part about New York, Long Island, and a camp with a pine tree.

Gingerly, I flicked open the book. The letters popped in and out, blurring into each other. Dyslexia. This was the reason I had stopped reading the book in the first place. No matter how hard I tried, I could not finish a chapter without my head aching. How come I could read perfectly fine when I read Chinese? Even if I have 'mild dyslexia', its still a pain to concentrate on something I could usually do really quickly.

My fingertips tingled. Maybe this was the thing my mom had been about to tell me to bring. Perhaps it wasn't. Even so, I had a weird feeling about this book.

Somehow, I knew it was important.