DV (domestic violence,) CSA, and mentions of un-aliving up ahead. Read with caution, por favor y gracias.
Standing next to his bedazzled telescope, mint-green observed the blackened clouds void of sunrise through the glass pane of his bedroom window, cozy in his white tee and light-green pajama pants. Hugging his body shivering for warmth despite the beads of sweat dripping down his forehead. Throbs jabbed left and right hooks between his ears, pulsing behind his eyes. Jumbling coherent strings of thought into muddled puddles.
If Juandissimo had not been around, the young billionaire would have spent Christmas and New Years in complete solitude; the Buxaplentys had been MIA since mid-December, venturing off on yet another celebratory getaway to one of Diana's seaside luxury resorts on a desert island after yet another successful fiscal year. The three weeks that they've been gone felt no different from when they were home. Their 'daily two minutes' had come to a halt not long after the bombshell that they never wanted him anyway. What was the point in forcing it anymore…
Lately, Remy really wasn't okay.
Dark thoughts disturbed his dreams and haunted every waking moment. Thoughts that he was worthless, thoughts that he shouldn't exist. Thoughts that urged to wish he were never born. He didn't dare make such a wish, because the godfather that loved and cared for him would never dare grant it. So, he'd elected to keep these thoughts to himself, suffering in silence.
When Juandissimo would question him on his wellbeing, he could use his fatigue as an excuse. It didn't stray too far from the truth, and it was a viable distraction from the root issue. He would have wished for a dreamless sleep if those types of wishes were within the realm of Juandissimo's discretion. Then again, that might have given away the extent of his suffering…
"We never wanted you in the first place!"
Those very words echoed on repeat, shrouding his mind in the blackest of darkness. Burning within his chest, clenching his gut in the most agonizing churns. He'd felt the kind of sick that his stomach could not eject. He'd felt broken, eroding from the inside out. Truth be told, he wasn't entirely certain if ceasing to exist was the answer. And yet…he longed to stop the hurting.
He'd longed to quiet his mind completely, and two days ago, he was close to doing just that…
That night, he'd waited until he knew Juandissimo was undoubtedly asleep before he snuck out of bed. Dressed in nothing but his pajamas as he traveled out of the mansion towards the country club. He'd traversed through freezing temperatures on his journey to the lazy river, focused on one goal.
Desperation had given himself no time to hesitate, quaking in his bones as ice water stung his toes. Silk pajamas stuck to the goosebumps in his skin as water traveled up his torso until the top of blonde hair had been fully submerged. His lungs begged for air, fighting against his will to keep his arms and legs still. Projecting memories of the otherworldly swirls of pinks, blues, and purples that he'd seen within Fairy Fort's secret passage. Remembering the warmth that those hues emitted…
Weighted darkness had pressed against his brain, numbing his limbs. Visualizing the whitest light beyond closed eyes before a strong hoist had ripped at his back collar. He'd felt himself ejected from the water, his lungs gasping. Blinking through the swirling pressure at the pierce of blue-violets strained with both solicitude and alarming despair.
"¿¡Qué demonios, Remy!?" his godfather shook him. "¿¡Estas loco!? ¡Podrías haber muerto!"
Remy knew he'd gone too far when Juandissimo blurted out Spanish that Remy's dizzy haze couldn't understand. That, and he didn't know when or how Juandissimo had gotten there. Remy had made absolutely certain that Juandissimo was in a state of slumber that he would not wake from so easily. Regardless, had it not been for Juandissimo's interference…he would've certainly drowned.
Instead of drowning in ice-cold water, his body betrayed him by contracting an unnamed illness, marking him absent on the first day of school back from break. From how crummy he felt on this cloudy morning, it appeared that he would be absent today as well.
A tap on his left shoulder pulled him from whatever pensive stupor he'd fallen under, turning around to the subtle bags beneath blue-violets. "Time to check your temperature." his godfather wearily exhaled, poofing a thermometer into existence.
Continuing to hug himself, Remy reached out for the thermometer to position under his tongue.
"Blink once if your head still hurts."
Being truthful, Remy's eyelids flicked once. Nodding would have irritated his migraine from Hell.
Noting the feeble droop in Remy's eyelids, Juandissimo pressed a palm to the wetness in Remy's forehead. Heat radiated against his palm, furrowing his brow in worry. "You are burning up…"
Considering his hot sweatiness in his chilly shivers, Remy assumed that his fever had yet to break. Did he want it to break?
Thirty seconds past before the thermometer beeped, and when Juandissimo removed it from Remy's mouth, another weary sigh escaped as he read the predicted temperature. "102.1…" Yeah, Remy was definitely staying home. "You should be in bed."
Despite the foggy throb in his head, the edge of Remy's mouth lifted ever so faintly. "Or I should jump out the window. That would certainly break my fever…"
Juandissimo crinkled his nose at his godchild. "Remy, do not make jokes like that."
Resisting against droopy eyes, Remy slurred "…who's joking."
Juandissimo stared, sensing eeriness behind Remy's lack of emotion. It could be the delirium, or it could be a dark truth swimming to the surface. "Alright." his firm finger pointed to the bed like a father giving a command. "Back to bed. Now."
Giving a whiney groan in objection, Remy faced away and dragged his feet. Arms around his torso until he reached the bed to tuck himself in. He pulled the cotton duvet to his chest as Juandissimo took a seat by his bedside, magically conjuring a glass of orange juice.
It was Remy's turn to crinkle his nose "…why do I have to keep drinking this?"
"Fluids will help flush this sickness out." Juandissimo reminded, holding the glass for Remy to take.
Reluctantly, Remy accepted the glass. Squinting as he managed to swallow at least half a cup. An orange's tartness was never his favorite, but Juandissimo would argue that he needed the Vitamin C. Only for his godfather will he tolerate this repulsive liquid.
"Bueno." At least glad that his godson drank half of it, Juandissimo used his wand to set the cup on the nightstand beside the ferret cage, putting it aside for later. "Now…" he turned to his godson, releasing a sigh. "Try to get some rest…you look exhausted."
Leaning back against the pillow, Remy kept his comment about the small bags under Juandissimo's eyes to himself, opting instead to ask "…why do you insist on taking care of me?"
"I do not see anyone else doing so." Juandissimo pointed out.
Remy couldn't discredit Juandissimo's observation; if not personally instructed to check in, butlers and maids went on about their regular duties as if a child did not live among them. It'd been this way for as long as Remy could remember, and as he exhaled a heavy sigh, he murmured "…because it used to fall on him to care for me…"
Juandissimo felt his features fall. Disheartened that 'him' meant that pedófilo…
Even with the fuzzy haze pounding in his brain, Remy noted the dejection in Juandissimo's expression. "…it's a good thing…" he insisted, resting the back of his head to his pillow with heavy eyes to the gold canopy "…it was the rare time that he wasn't a creep…"
Juandissimo observed his godson assiduously, seeing Remy's struggle to keep his eyes open.
"…sometimes…I used to like getting sick…" Remy mumbled, battling his eyelids fighting to fall into slumber "…he would care for me…and he would just…lay and hold me…" drowsiness closed his eyes, head tilting in a losing battle "…hold me…until…I fell asleep…"
Mumbles lapsed into quiet snores past parted lips, sinking into sound slumber. The fairy godfather felt compelled to brush a tender finger to his ahijado's cheek before his brow furrowed in thought.
Fenwick was still on Remy's mind, evident from recollections of being cared for by his nanny whenever ill. Juandissimo also couldn't shake Remy's earlier comment about jumping out of the window, hauntedly reminded of dragging Remy out of the lazy river before he could have drowned. Disturbing comments, life-threatening actions…Juandissimo could feel his intuition scream that something was seriously wrong. But whenever he'd tried to talk to Remy, he would just blame it on being tired…
Watching Remy sleep, Juandissimo folded his lip. Knowing from experience, this was much more than just being tired. Was it possible to save Remy from himself…before it was too late?
. . . . . .
Crystal raindrops of the rectangular chandelier stretched along the length of the island topped in macaubas quartzite, the island where the Wells sisters occupied the rose-gold velvet of the swivel barstools. Wearing their Brightsburg Academy uniform of gold sweater vests and black-pleated skirt, the eleven-year-old leisurely flipped through a tween magazine. Finishing her bowl of cereal on the opposite end of the island from Hazel drinking the remanence of sugary milk with her bright-red ring cuffed on her hand.
Silence lengthened the distance between them, which wasn't uncommon. Whenever questioned by strangers never to be seen again, Hillary would use the stark contrast in their skin tone as a means to deny their relation. In the same regard, Hazel didn't too much care to ever view Hillary as a sister. Because to Hillary, Hazel was nothing more than something else that started with an S. Something related to her ancestor's discriminatory history…
"Hey, you." Hillary set her clinking spoon in her near empty glass bowl, holding it expectantly in Hazel's direction. "Wash my dishes."
Hazel frowned, setting her own bowl back down on the counter. Hillary would only address her just to bark another command. Typical. "…why don't you do it?"
"Because I told you to do it." Hillary snarked back, still holding out her bowl.
"But it's your mess." Hazel grumbled back.
As Hillary swiveled out of her barstool, she snickered in her approach before she clinked her bowl next to Hazel's as if to make a point. Looking down upon the little black girl with a forward lean and a domineering smirk.
"I thought you were smart enough to learn your place by now." Hillary spat. "Talking back would've gotten you a whip back in the day. Or sold away like the pathetic property you are."
Petulance deepened Hazel's grimace, puffing her cheeks.
"Why do you think my parents haven't hired help besides a nanny? Because you are the help." she edged closer, nearly spitting in Hazel's face. "So do what I told you, and don't make me repeat myself."
A scream threatened to break from Hazel's throat. Giving in to Hillary meant amping Hillary's crusade of degrading her as if subhuman, as if she was lesser than. Even so, standing up for herself always resulted in Hillary snitching to their parents for her 'rude attitude.' Let Hillary dehumanize her once again, or receive a chastising two-hour earful from their parents. Lose-lose.
Groaning, Hazel jumped down from her barstool, restraining herself from snatching the dishes. Instead picking them up and taking them over to the Boelon sink, ignoring Hillary's sly grin. Proud of herself, Hillary lightly skipped back to her bar stool, returning to scanning the pages of her magazine.
Seeing Hillary reoccupied, Hazel turned her back to face the sink as she switched the faucet for warm water. Two years ago, she would have physically washed the dishes by hand. Turning on the water and putting the dishes in the sink was just to divert suspicion. "Hey, Nee-Nee?" she whispered to her red ring. "I wish these were clean…"
When Nyekundu raised her sparkling wand, soggy crumbs and leftover milk instantly disappeared, returning the stainless-steel spoons and glass bowls in a sparkling sheen. Shutting off the faucet, Hazel whispered a thank you and lowered the glass bowls and spoons into the sink's draining basket.
Hearing dishes set aside led Hillary to glance from her magazine. "Done already?" she then snickered in delight. "Good girl."
Masking her slit brow, Hazel's quick pace marched out of the kitchen, refusing to acknowledge Hillary's snicker as she passed her. With her other hand, Hazel pressed her ringed hand against her chest, fingers wadding at gold fibers in her sweater vest. Gulping down another scream as her red ring snarled.
"I wood blast dat uchafu kidogo right in hah nasty mouth if I cood…" Nyekundu uttered under a scowling breath. Screw Da Rules for saving little shits from a justified ass-whooping…
Hazel knew her godmother was angry when her Kenyan accent thickened. She'd be a hypocrite to blame her; she herself would've allowed herself to be more furious if she didn't believe in the justice of karma. "It'll be okay, Nee-Nee…" At least…that's what she needed to tell herself…
Reaching the top landing off the stairs, Hazel was about to enter her room to retrieve her backpack when her ears picked up strange noises. She paused and turned to the white door beside hers, noting it slightly ajar. Hearing a grown man murmuring unintelligible words over heavy gasps coming from Anthony's room.
"What is it, Kakao?" Nyekundu noticed Hazel's pause.
Hazel didn't respond, feathered steps sneaking her curiosity towards the door. In attempts not to disrupt whatever was going on, she carefully tilted for a peek through the visible slither into the room, brown eyes bulging in a sharp gasp.
Standing in front of his bed facing the bedroom door, the young teen's gold cardigan hung loosely around the arms that supported his weight against the burgundy duvet, white-collared shirt unbuttoned just enough for a nipple to poke through. Pink flushed across the bridge of his nose and in his ivory cheeks. Black slacks flattened down around his ankles, his lips parted with whimpering pants that Hazel couldn't decipher whether he was in pain or not. Blue eyes could only focus on the nanny kneeled before him, down on both knees on beige carpet. The nanny was fully clothed in his black tuxedo suit, aside from his black slacks sagging around visible white boxers.
Seductive suction quickened the teen's pants as his eyelids fell, thrusting Anthony's hips reactively towards release. Feeling his new toy edging inside his mouth, the nanny replaced sucking lips with stroking fingers. "Ahh…that's right, Tony…" Fenwick cooed sensually. Raising amorous eyes to view the oncoming reward of his work as his hand stroking faster "…let go…"
Legs shaking and mouth agape, Anthony shuddered a moan.
Hazel tore herself away from the door, jumping out of sight. Palm clasped to her mouth in attempts to keep her presence concealed. Staggered steps continued to back away, hands muffling her shriek as tears pricked the corners of squeezed eyes.
"Hazel, what's wrong!?" Nyekundu worried. Hazel's hand had been pressed against the wall when she peered into the room, so Nyekundu couldn't see for herself. Judging her goddaughter's distressing reaction, it must've been very, very bad.
She pressed her back to the wall between Anthony's bedroom and hers, a low drone ringing her ears. Her chest hitched labored breaths that strained in her nostrils, blinking back tears as her mind scrambled on what she saw or even if it was real. Her fingernails pinched the top of her ringed hand, and the stinging prickles beneath her skin proved the unfortunate truth that she was not dreaming.
W-What was happening in there!? What's going on!? What was Fenwick doing to Anthony!? Should she tell her parents?! Would they even believe her?! What was she going to do!? What can she do!?
Her shoulders flinched when Anthony's door creaked wider, chomping down on her lip. A faint tremor in her knees as Anthony exited his room first. His shirt was buttoned beneath his cardigan and his pants were no longer around his ankles, secured with a black belt around his waist. Sheepish fingers combed through the grown-out layers of blonde locks, chin lowered in his walk.
Wide, brown eyes caught a sense of shame behind Anthony's blue, a tightness in his folded lips. He crossed his arms with hunched shoulders, making himself seem smaller. Hazel then spotted Fenwick brushing the knees of his slacks, a faint smile in his features as he closed Anthony's door. He approached Anthony with a squeezing hand on his shoulder for Anthony to face him, making Anthony cringe with his eyes still downcast.
"Remember that our bond must stay between us." Fenwick gave a gentle reminder. "Everyone will think it's wrong to help each other feel better." Lifting a tender hand, he cupped Anthony's cheek that flushed again upon his touch. Anthony's brow furrowed, looking away as his nanny's thumb brushed small strokes along the cheekbone.
Hazel couldn't tear her brown eyes away, feet glued in place. Trying to make sense of it all as Fenwick's own brown eyes glanced through his peripheral without turning his head. His eye-contact shocked shudders down Hazel's spine, chilling her blood when friendly lips smirked ominously in her direction. Through the chaos in her mind, she could hear a fellow godchild's advice to keep up her guard around Fenwick. Adhering to that advice, her brows scrunched to mask her unease.
He retained his smirk, eyes focused on her. Watching her will herself to retreat inside her room, scurrying to twist the doorknob before she disappeared behind her door. Anthony lifted his stare when he heard the door slam, and Fenwick merely curved his lips further. Knowing exactly how he'll handle the youngest Wells…
Transforming out of her disguise, Nyekundu studied her godchild, observing her press her back to the door as she slid down to the carpet with drawn knees. She was about to inquire on what had caused Hazel so much distress when she felt repeated vibration inside her jumpsuit pocket. Reaching inside to take out her phone, Nyekundu flipped the screen to see multiple texts come in at once. Previews of Alondro and Irving's names popped up, leading her to sort through the numerous messages.
Hazel managed to raise her chin, seeing Nyekundu contort her facials into dismay. Shoving her own qualms aside in concern of her godmother aside as she squeaked "…w-what's is it?"
"…Gary and Dwight…" Nyekundu uttered, slowly lifting her frown from the messages "…something terrible happened."
A tacky clamminess clung his T-shirt to his chest as mint eyes fluttered groggily, slowly correcting the gold blob into the clear view of his telescope stationed near the bedroom window. The once blackened clouds now a whiter silver, he blinked the haze clouding his mind. His limbs felt glued to the mattress in a heavy stupor, recalling talking about something to his godfather before everything went black.
What was it that he was talking about…and where was his godfather?
Tilting his head to face the side facing his nightstand, Remy found his godfather not in his ferret disguise. His wand rested near the right cheek pressed into the pillow, arms folded placidly with a faint rise and fall in his shoulders.
A comforting warmth brewed within as Remy rolled over beneath the duvet, his weary gaze observing his godfather sound in slumber. Juandissimo certainly needed the rest. The last two days had been spent caring for Remy around the clock; checking his temperature, ensuring he drank enough fluids, icing his migraines, and even poofing fresh clothes when he'd sweat out old ones. Whether during the day or throughout the night, Juandissimo was there when no one else was.
Remy frowned remorsefully. How did an unwanted kid deserve such a caring godfather…
The smallest compulsion came over him, shuddering his shoulders. Reaching with the coyest finger with the most delicate brush to the left side of Juandissimo's face. Though Juandissimo winced, he didn't wake. Laxing his feature after Remy swiftly retreated his finger. Wow, he never realized how soft a fairy's skin was.
Opting to keep his hands to himself, Remy continued to watch as Juandissimo slept undisturbed. Even when Juandissimo's actions showed how much he cared for Remy, Remy had always sensed a sturdy wall between them. Rarely did he catch Juandissimo with his guard completely down like this. Could it be…because a part of Remy's own guard was still up?
Letting someone in, even when they prove how much they care, is the most difficult thing in the world. When you're used to everyone not giving a crap about you, it's hard to accept when someone truly does. Remy knew that Juandissimo cared, but while his mind realized this, his heart didn't want to.
His parents never wanted him, and the one person to show him affection, the one person he thought loved him since before he could walk, never truly loved him at all. His heart had been shattered, torn to shreds. If he let his guard down, all the way down…who's to say that it won't be obliterated completely?
Remy shook his head, ignoring his trepidation to nestle closer towards Juandissimo. A fairy who had not known him longer than mere months did not hesitate to risk his life, saving him from the man who had known him since birth. How could he ever think that Juandissimo would ever hurt him like Mr. Nicholas has?
Mint-green slowly began to droop once more, the sweet relief of sleep calling to him. Pulling the duvet over his shoulder, Remy held his drowsy gaze to his godfather. Would Juandissimo be devastated if he ceased to exist? Duh…Juandissimo would be destroyed. Remy couldn't bare the thought of doing that to him…though…at least Juandissimo wouldn't have him to worry about so much. In fact, Juandissimo would never have had to worry about him, never would have had to risk his life. Never would have become his godparent…if Remy was never born.
Closing his eyes, he questioned whether Juandissimo was enough to keep living before he soon drifted back into soft snores.
Silver blankets of clouds spread over the crumbling flat roof of Dimmsdale Sunrise Apartments. Moss and grime weathered along red brick walls. Black paint peeled off the rails of stairs to apartments on higher floors, and fire escapes clung to walls by a thread.
"Why are you skipping school? Again?" the dark-blue raven asked, stored within her bird cage resting on a nearby counter. Eyeing her godchild's stare to the ground that was almost unreadable to those not inside the child's mind.
"Cuz it sucks…" the gothic girl muttered, right eye still ringed in a faded purplish-blue. Brooding with knees drawn on the military cot within the bedroom-converted laundry room.
"You don't wanna grow up dumb, do you?" Swizzle tested. While she knew her word choice was poor, it was practically the only way to communicate to a child who'd never been coddled.
"I'm not dumb!" Molly groused, glaring at the dark-blue raven in her cage.
"I never said you were." Swizzle sighed heavily. "I just don't want you to throw your life away."
With a low grunt through clenched teeth, the eleven-year-old turned her grimace away. "Who says I'm throwing it away? I just don't like school!"
"Well, what is it that you wanna do with your life?" Swizzle challenged. "Because whatever it is, I guarantee it'll require the basic education that you insist on skipping out on."
Molly crinkled her nose, forcing herself to face Swizzle. "Life's shit anyway; who cares what I wanna do with it…"
Swizzle furrowed her brow "…then what are you living for?"
This question weakened Molly's glare, bemused with no response. Her mom's a lousy drunk, Frank's a deadbeat douche, Francis has dumbbells for brains, and the only people who give any shit about her are Swizzle and other godkids. Life's a bitch, then you die.
…so what did she live for?
When a shrill cry rattled the walls, a pummeling thud followed as a baritone growl warned the bitch not to swing at him like that. Molly's fight or flight didn't think twice before she sprung from her cot. "Swizzle, stay here!"
"No, Molly!" Swizzle objected. "I'm not just gonna sit back and watch you get hurt again!"
"I wish you'd stay here!"
Swizzle's feathers ruffled, cursing under her breath. Whenever Molly inserted herself into Marissa and Frank's domestic disputes, circumstances risked escalating to dire levels. Somehow, Molly believed that keeping Swizzle out of the crossfire was for her protection. Good intentions were admirable, but Swizzle never understood why Molly felt the need to protect a magical being with immeasurable power in the tip of her wand. She was the godparent, after all.
For someone who denies stupidity, Molly sure made stupid decisions. Alas, Molly wasn't too stupid to restrict Swizzle's involvement in the form of a wish. She looked on defenselessly as her godchild ran towards the sliding door and used the force of her fingers to slide it open. Pinching the claws on her feet to stopping Molly from charging into a battle without a shield as her feathers shivered with dread when the sliding door was shut.
Molly rushed through the dirtied kitchen where Francis was already standing in the archway, wide eyes and pale skin white as a ghost.
"Frank, I'm sorry!" Marissa cried, cradling the surging pain through her left cheek. Her right hand outstretched in desperate defense, curled in a ball on the stains crusting the beige carpet in a sickly brown.
Her boyfriend loomed over her, ire in his eyes as he dug into his back pocket. "Sorry, my ass!" Frank growled, yanking a sharp object from his pocket. Erecting the blade of his pocket knife within his menacing grip.
"Don't fucking touch her!"
Marissa squirmed, lifting herself from the carpet. Terror behind her glower towards her daughter. "Molly, stay the fuck out of this!"
"Yeah, ya little bitch!" Frank shot at Molly, his pocket knife still aimed at his girlfriend. "Mind ya fuckin' business!"
Molly was not intimidated. "Fuck you!"
Francis flashed Molly a mystified grimace. His dad was angrier than usual, and here she was dropping F-bombs like she couldn't get hurt! When was she gonna learn; no one mouths off to Frank Abrahams and walks away with their life!
"Cut it out!" Francis warned, attempting to pull Molly back by her arm.
Molly snarled and snatched her arm from him. "You may be scared of that asshole, but I'm not!"
An unforgiving scowl crossed Frank's gruff features. Marissa, breathing shakily on the ground with a palm to her burning cheek, watched Frank's eyes grow colder and colder. Soon, his pocket watch switched its target, and he stomped towards his new opposition as he pointed the blade directly to Molly's stubborn glare.
"Don't make me fucking cut you!" he darkly threatened.
Stern in her stance, all of the resentment and rage that she'd ever harbored towards that man burned within yale-blue. Her fist swung, aiming for his ugly mouth. His fingers were faster, grabbing her punch before it could land. She growled profanity and snatched her fist from his grip. To her surprise, he didn't resist and released her easily. Saving the bulk of his effort for his next attack…
His knife flashed in a ferocious strike, and without her alcoholic anesthesia, Marissa's maternal side sparked alarming flares.
"Frank, NO!"
Shockwaves pulsed in her throat as liquid burbled into her airways, triggering the explosive urge to cough. She choked an exhale as the taste of iron spat from her mouth, grey sweater splattered in the crimson crying rivets from the blade lodged to the side of her neck.
Heart thumping in his chest, Francis felt his breath caught from the terror across his goggled eyes. Feeling helpless to the gradual drain of color in Molly's pale skin. Her glare had been weakened into an expression of shock, lips uttering inaudible words as her gurgling throat upheaved more crimson onto her shirt. Frank dislodged his knife, washing her shock in a deathly glaze before her legs gave way and she slumped to the ground.
"Frank, what the fuck!?" Marissa cried out, scrambling to her feet.
"This woulda never happened if you'd raised that kid to stay inna kid's place!" Frank hurled a retort.
Dismay quivered through his arms in shuttered breaths as the twelve-year-old gawked at the blood gushing from the fallen girl's neck. Yale-blue eyes half-lidded with a ghostly stare that saw straight through him. He tore his eyes away, clamping them shut from the tears that threatened to shed. This…this can't be happening…
"I'll kill you!" Marissa pounced, fired with adrenaline. Said fire doused when Frank pointed his bloody knife at her, stopping her in her tracks.
"Bitch, I'll cut you too!" Frank barked his first empty threat. He went too far, and now he had too much blood on his hands to risk spilling anymore. This wouldn't just be another felony on his criminal record. He could land himself in death row…
With Frank yielding a threatening knife, Marissa frozen in fear, and Francis shaking back tears, no one noticed when Molly's body disappeared in a dark-blue cloud.
Reappearing within the darkened laundry/bedroom, Swizzle's fairy form swallowed back distress. If Swizzle had not disobeyed, Molly was one minute away from bleeding out. Dammit, Molly…Swizzle gritted her teeth as she rushed for her waved wand to stopped the profuse bleeding from Molly's neck. Why did you make that wish…
Swizzle then lowered an ear to Molly's bloody lips to check for signs of breath, bulging dark-blue orbs when no breath was detected. She used more magic to clear Molly's airways as best as she could, unable to completely heal the open stab wound. That would require steadier magic and more time than she currently had.
Once finished, Swizzle shifted her ear to the left of Molly's motionless chest. Shuddering a breath of relief when she could hear a faint rhythmic pulse. And yet, though there was a pulse, there was still no breath.
Using her knuckles, she pushed circles into the center of Molly's sternum. Growing more worried the longer her efforts garnered no rouse. "C'mon, Molly…"
Just when Swizzle began to dread the worst, Molly's chest expanded with a loud snore. As Molly's lungs strained for rattling breaths in her comatose state, Swizzle's alertness snapped to the sudden boom. Walls tremoring from the violent banging coming from the front door.
"POLICE! OPEN UP!"