What? My mind refused to even process the information. It was like my train of thought had slammed into a wall and shattered, and all that was left was a stuttering wreck looping endlessly over that one idea. Was I Simurgh tainted? The idea was ridiculous. I'd never even seen the Simurgh, much less heard the mental scream they say she projects when she's altering people's minds to become her own ticking time bombs.
Dad was looking to me pleadingly for understanding, his eyes searching my face. No. I couldn't handle this right now. I couldn't. I retreated into the depths of my own mind. I averted my eyes, looking to the picture my grandmother had painted hanging on the dining room wall. Looking anywhere but into his entreating stare. I just had to think. I had to understand and I couldn't do anything with him here staring at me like this. It was almost like there was too much thinking to do and no place to begin the thinking, and so my mind just became overwhelmed with the sheer scale of what I was dealing with instead of doing anything useful.
Okay, I could do this. I had read Oedipus Rex just a month before in Lit class and my mind finally found a starting point there. The Simurgh was my sphinx and her song was my prophecy. Actually, what the ancient Greeks thought about prophecy was a very good analogue to what the Simurgh does. There was no way to avoid the prophecy for them, and there's not a way to avoid the bad things the Simurgh would make people do.
If I was her time bomb and decided I'd never use my powers, somehow I would be coerced or badgered or bullied into using them. The point was moot. I could never not use this gift to help people, but it was of some comfort that even if I did manage to ignore my ability, it would all fit right into her plans. If I used my powers, then at least I could maybe help people enough to make the good outweigh the bad. Or at least counterbalance the bad. Or offset it maybe a little. Hopefully.
And besides, it was unlikely that her influence would have even made it to me right now. I couldn't think of any recent incidents, shootings or riots or heroes-gone-villain, that had been due to any of the early Simurgh attacks. Mostly, it seemed like her influence tapered out over the course of five or six years. Surely if I was going to do something, I would have done it by now. If I was damned if I did and damned if I didn't, then all I could do was my best, and my best is to help people. I was still going to become a hero.
It was unclear to me how long I had been staring at one of the pine trees in my grandmother's painting, but it was almost like I snapped awake from a dream, sitting in the quasi-dining room of our small apartment. The sounds of my father softly sobbing finally reached my ears, and I could hear him still quietly pleading, to whom I was unsure. My body felt winded. Like I had exerted myself and I was just now coming down off of the exhaustion.
Finally, I met my father's eyes again. "Dad." I started, "I still have to become a hero. This can't change anything I was going to do. I'll just have to be more careful, and being in the Wards will help with that. I'll be accountable." As I said it I looked into his eyes, trying to will him into agreeing with me. My efforts to be a hero would be exceedingly more difficult if I couldn't get dad to sign any papers.
Sniffling, he nodded. "Yeah, I understand." He said. A part of my heart went ice-cold at that. It didn't even take an argument? Was this playing right into Her hands? I hated her just a bit more right then, realizing that this was now my life. Everything I did, everything I accomplished I would question, looking for Her influence.
"I know you." He continued, snapping me out of my own head. "I can't stop you from trying to help people. That's one of the things I love about you. At least in the Wards you'll be safe. I need you to be safe."
My safety. I knew that he was feeling however many nights filled with tears instead of sleep he would have to experience because of this. In a sense, it felt nice that he cared so deeply for me, but in another it was almost like he wasn't getting the big picture. Oh. No. His sleepless nights. They were because of me. And Her. It was because of me because of her. Suddenly, ice gripped my heart. I heard my own breath hike as the realization slammed into my mind. His love. For me. Was because of Her. All my good memories. All my happy family moments. My mother's goodnight lullabies. They were Hers.
Who knows what my parents would have actually felt about me. Maybe they would have been great and loving parents. But maybe not. Whatever there was before was obliterated. When the Simurgh hit London it was only her second attack. I don't know how long she was there, but I knew that it wasn't a short time. They still didn't know how to fight her, the Protectorate didn't really know her tricks yet. They didn't have the quarantine procedures then that they had now. Heck, they barely even knew anything about her Rube-Goldberg machinations back then. Who knows how long she had had to scramble my parent's thinking?
My head was shaking of its own accord at the realization and I could feel myself hyperventilating. I had to get away. I couldn't look at him right now. When I looked into his eyes, all I could see was Her pulling his strings. I bolted from my chair. I had to get out. I couldn't think of anything else except my need to get away from everything that was happening here. Scrambling to unlock the door, I could hear my father rousing behind me, trying to get me to stop, trying to trap me and I just had to get away. I flung the door open and all-but sprinted down the hallway to the elevator. As the twin doors were sliding closed, I could hear his voice rising, entreating me to stay and talk to him.
As I arrived on the ground-floor lobby area, my vision was blurry but I was still able to power-walk to the outside doors, arms wrapped protectively around myself. Twilight was just setting in and bringing the heat of the day down to something that would have been called a beautiful night on any other night. Tonight, it was just the back-drop behind my entire world crumbling to pieces.
I don't even know which direction I walked or how long it took me to stop, but eventually I found myself sitting against a rough brick wall in an alcove where the yellow glow from the streetlights couldn't reach me. The burn on my leg itched fiercely from the running and sweating I had been doing, and my stomach ached from my wracking sobs. I didn't care. I don't even know that I was thinking about anything. What was there to think about? As soon as my mind would begin to attempt to piece together my thoughts it would flinch back from the anguish any amount of thinking brought. I didn't want to think. Thinking made it hurt more.
I sat in that alcove for a long time, wracked with pain and tears. Just shy of two weeks ago I had experienced real panic for the first time in my life. I hadn't told my father about it to protect him, but today was worse. A hundred times worse. Today I experienced hopelessness. Helplessness. There was no possible action I could take to make this problem go away. There wasn't a power in the world that could fix my problems like one had two weeks ago. I had no idea how I could face him again. For the first time in my life I was glad my mother had been taken away from us. At least I didn't have to stare into her eyes and see the Simurgh staring back at me.
I sighed. A heavy, shuddering breath that escaped my lungs but didn't take any of my problems with it. I couldn't even hate him though. He was at the center of the largest betrayal of my life, but it wasn't his fault. He was still my dad, and he still loved me. That love may have been twisted or even wholly manufactured by the Simurgh, but it wasn't his fault. He still cared so deeply for me that it drove him mad sometimes. How could I live like that though? Every time I looked at him I would see betrayal. Ugh. There was no answer.
Eventually, it was simple stupid human nature that got to me. It was fully dark out, and when I checked my phone (ignoring the missed calls and text messages) I saw that it was already past ten. My day had been full, and crying and all of my emotional responses had drained me. I was exhausted. I didn't know what I would do tomorrow or even tonight if I had to face dad again, but my butt was sore, my leg itched, and I had to pee. With ideas of sneaking back into the apartment, I rose from my sitting position, and walked out into the orange light provided by the lamp overhead.
Great. I had no idea where I was. I was pretty sure of the direction I had come from, so I started walking, but the neighborhood looked a bit rough and I was hoping I hadn't made too many twists and turns to get myself lost. Checking my surroundings, I could tell that the buildings looked neglected and some even outright deserted. Hopefully the lone figure across the street didn't want any trouble. The silhouette's only distinct feature was a spot of orange from the glow of a cigarette. Hunched over, I quickly made my way toward the next block.
After several blocks I consigned myself to using the GPS on my phone: something I should have done from the beginning, because apparently I was walking the wrong direction. Fortunately, when I started following its instructions, I quickly came into a part of town that was better-lit and (even more exciting) that I recognized. I knew I was too far from home and that my need was too strong, so I stopped into a relatively decent looking gas station to use the restroom. My mind must have been exhausted. The waitress behind the bar, the two men sitting at the bar enjoying a late dinner, the pimple-faced employee that looked younger than I was, everyone seemed more like threats than bystanders. I could see Her influence everywhere. After finishing my business, I rushed out.
Eventually, I rounded the corner to get to the front door of my apartment and stopped dead in my tracks. There were flashing lights, brightly illuminating the street and buildings with contrasts of blue and red. Several vehicles, all bearing the flashing lights, were parked haphazardly outside the front of my building. Our building. There were probably a hundred people that lived in that building, but in that instant I knew which one they were here for. Something had happened to dad.
[][][][][]
Unfortunately, this week is looking like I'll be really busy for most of it, so I don't know when I'll get my next update out. Sorry to leave it on a bit of a cliffhanger, but it will almost certainly be before the end of next week before my next update comes out.
Additionally, I went back through my previous chapters and did some much-needed editing. I couldn't believe how many mistakes I caught, so I'm sorry about those. Hopefully they'll be easier to read now, and hopefully I'll be more diligent in the future.
