Hey, Butterflies! I'm back with Chapter 2! This chapter, like the last, will probably move kind of slowly, but I promise you all that the story does pick up pace. Hope you all enjoy!
Disclaimer: The Secret Saturdays belongs to Jay Stephens and Cartoon Network.
Chapter 2: Making Shapes
Trigger Warning: Self Harm mentioned frequently towards the second half of the chapter!
Today, 6 December, is the day I begin the path to finding my mother. I know what I need to do, so I get dressed in my warmest clothes and head outside. My watch says it is shortly after five o'clock and below freezing. Silently, I slip around to behind the house. Taking a deep breath, I clear my mind and imagine the shape of the divining rod. I call the elements to me and shape them. The cold air burns my face as it whips by, but I try to ignore it. If I lose focus, this will never work.
I look up, and the shape of the divining rod is before my eyes. I sigh from relief. Hopefully Anonymous sees it soon, because I can't keep this shape for too long. I wait a few more minutes before slowly releasing the elements. They return to nature quietly and sadly. They too know what happened five months ago, and they too struggle to be lively. Maybe it's because of my powers, but I feel that I connect with the elements and am intertwined with them. I am they, and they are I.
Staring up at the dark night sky reminds me that I had better go inside. Hopefully Anonymous saw my shape. Now, more than ever, I want to find my mother. I want to bring her home and be with her. I had never really had a mother in my life before, and then both were suddenly ripped away from me. It simply isn't fair. A tear, either from sadness or the cold, escapes my eye and slides down to my cheek before freezing to my face. I really should go inside and maybe go back to sleep. I pull my coat tighter around myself as I make the walk back to the house.
Once inside, I close the door silently and creep back to my room. If anyone else knew what I did just now, they would surely flip out. After all, how can we know that my mother won't return to us as a reanimated body? Shaking my head, I try to remove those thoughts from my mind. Perhaps going back to sleep is the best thing I can do. With my decision made, I return to my room and go back to sleep.
A few hours later, I wake up and grab a quick bite to eat. As I pull together a sandwich, I glance at the time; the mail truck will be here in a few short hours. Then, I hope, I will know if Anonymous saw my answer. Suddenly, my stomach twists. What if xe doesn't like my answer? I shake my head as I try to shake those thoughts from my mind. I would rather have no mother and have angered Anonymous than have my mother and hurt those closest to me.
The rest of the day passes in a blur, a blur that seems as if someone had hit fast forward on remote control but left me standing still. How has it already become night? How have the few hours of sunlight already passed? I swear it was only minutes ago that the sun was only beginning to rise. Oh well. The day has passed, and there is nothing I am able to do about it. Anonymous has sent me no word regarding my answer, but that is fine. Tomorrow, I will look for a letter again. The longer I wait, the less time I fear I will have to find my mother. I glance up at the deserted living room. Both my mothers.
My feet left me from the chair and float across the floor over to my room. Before I am able to stop myself, I am in my bathroom preparing to shower. When I finish in the shower, I find myself dressed, ready for bed, and already under the covers. But I do not fall asleep. Rather, I lie awake and stare blankly at the ceiling. Fear fills my every fiber. But what do I fear? Living the rest of my life with the guilt of knowing that I survived the deaths of Dad and Drew? Knowing that Mom is somewhere in the world, pregnant with my sibling, and not knowing anything about her location? Do I fear the next day, and the next? Do I fear my future of calamity? Of suffering? What is it that I fear? What is it that makes me tense? That makes my heart beat louder and more frantically? What is it that makes me always glance over my shoulder and always keep my eyes keen while my head lowered? What scares me so that I am unable to move on with my life? What scares me so?
Thoughts move about my mind, some racing and some trickling. Still, I cannot shake that question of what scares me from my mind. I have no fear of Argost, for he is long dead. He died the day my father died, eight months ago. No, Argost is not whom I fear. I fear not the Saturdays, for they are my family. I ponder the question for a while. Do I fear the Secret Scientists? Do I fear for Mom and her baby? Yes, but those are not what keep me awake. Perhaps Anonymous is the one I fear? No, my fear is something far deeper, far more sinister than that. My fear is something very few understand. What I truly fear is the monster I have become, the self harming, worthless, pathetic monster I am. I fear the fact that I am no longer in control as the self harm has taken over my body and my mind. It feeds off me, drinking my life away the same way I drink water from a glass. I wish, in my heart of hearts, for the monster to go away, no matter how much better I feel after doing it. Alas, I am the monster, and I am never going away. Not as long as I live.
Silently, I climb out of bed and slip into the bathroom. A few minutes later, I return with a collection of bandages on my arms and crimson still lingering on my counter. The monster never dies.
So I hope that wasn't too dark for you all. Sorry for posting this late; I've been busy and I got some bad news recently, so I've been trying to cope with that. Anyways, thank you all so much for reading. Don't forget to follow, favorite, and review. I love you all!