Persona (3 page)

As Moira and her siblings let out a collective groan, he goes right to the back of the van and opens the hatch. Moira walks back to help him. She does wonder why he’d have to go to work now though. It’s already late in the afternoon. Her step-mother goes over to him and must say basically the same thing to him, because he just retorts that its business stuff, like they know what that is. But it appeases Caroline, so Moira has no choice but to go with it. So, working together, they get the van unloaded in a timely fashion. Apparently they have movers coming to unload the truck, so that’s a relief to Moira. But then her father is gone before they know it.

Not that she cares at this point; the hunt for the best bedroom is an easy distraction.

***

October 2011

Peter Fletcher storms into the operating room. He’s instantly assaulted with loud moaning screams. He sees that the room is in disorder and that at least ten of his nurses are trying to hold Bethany down to the bed. She’s thrashing, kicking, and is almost getting free of the women holding her down. He goes over to his RN Dana, who is unsuccessfully trying to see how dilated Bethany is. She keeps getting pushed back from all the movement Bethany is doing around on the bed.

“Dammit people!” Fletcher yells. “Act like you all know how to do your jobs! Be competent and get her strapped down already!”

He signals for the guards at the door to come in and assist. Two men go to the head of the bed, each hold a shoulder down. Once she is stilled, the nurses are successful in strapping her arms and legs. Bethany’s uncontrollable sobs turn into mewling. Fletcher notices that her eyes are flashing from light green to a deep emerald as if changing the channel again and again. He sighs. It’s a pity he never tried to study her. He has to wonder if maybe she would’ve been an interesting experiment. But as her fair brown hair darkens, he knows he’s getting the better experiment out of this little exchange.

There is no pity in that, at least not on his end.

He calmly walks over to the beeping fetal monitor. The shrill noise panics him, but he’s not a man that loses control. “How is the baby Dana?” He asks.

“It seems to be in distress.” Dana goes to Bethany’s side and is feeling around her swollen belly. “The mother’s stress is causing it to decline Sir.”

Bethany spasms as another contraction hits her, when she screams her teeth change into pointed tips. Blood falls out of her mouth, she must have bitten her tongue, and Dana has to move aside as Bethany’s hands clench and unclench revealing claw like nails. She’s struggling to get free again. Fletcher starts to get frustrated when the fetal monitor indicates the baby is slowly fading. He can hear his staff trying to get her to calm down, while Dana is arguing about the baby’s health. He understands that Bethany is causing harm to the baby. He has to decide quickly which of them is more important.

It really doesn’t take him that long to decide.

Without pause, he goes over the one of the guards that is back to the door. He reaches for his handgun strapped to his side, pulls it free, and turns back to the room. Walking over to Bethany he lifts the gun up to her head and pulls the trigger. She goes still. Everyone in the room is stilled into silence. The monitor continues to wail it’s insisted beeping.

“Get the baby out.” Fletcher says as he goes over to the guard and returns the gun. “Now Dana, before the infant is lost would be optimal.”

By the time he turns back around, he hears the first cry of Bethany’s baby. He smiles as he walks over to where Dana is cradling the infant. He reaches out a hand and gently touches the baby’s cheek.

“I think we should call you Moira.” He says.

The baby coos in response.

Chapter Two

September 2028

Hearing the beeping noise of her alarm clock, Moira rolls over in her bed and hits the snooze button. With a tired sigh, she rolls back and snuggles into the blankets. She has to get up soon to get ready for her first day of school. That alone just makes her want to stay in bed even longer. Yawning, she wishes she hadn’t stayed up so late unpacking her room. The movers had arrived shortly after they room hunted. She then spent the rest of the evening organizing with her family. That really only gave her a short time to do her room, since it was a Sunday that they arrived.

Why her father insisted they move the day before school is beyond her, she blames Caroline.

Tossing aside the blankets, Moira sits up in her bed, and takes a look around her room. She definitely feels satisfied with it. Plus the fact that she kicked her sister’s butt in rock paper scissors the night before basically makes her like the room just on principal. The room is pretty big. With a bay window at the back wall, her four poster bed fits perfectly with her matching dresser and deck, all of which are dark mahogany wood. She never had the chance to get up her curtains though. So the room is shining with early morning light. Stretching, she stands up and heads to her walk in closet across the room.

She can’t help feeling a little disappointed at what greets her from within. On first days of school she likes to dress up, but today is different. She’s going to be the new girl. And it doesn’t settle well with her. Blending in has never been her thing. It’s usually just come naturally. But now she’s not sure what will make her
not
stand out. That’s not the only thing that worries her. She hasn’t been uncomfortable around new people since she was seven, and doesn’t know what will happen with her Persona. Knowing the rules doesn’t make it any easier. It’s strictly forbidden to use ones Persona in public. But it’s mostly reserved for under aged students in school.

Not really caring anymore, Moira just grabs a pair of skinny jeans and a light camisole.

Thinking she might need cover if control becomes an issue she snags a hoody. Not seeing one hanging, she reaches into a box at the bottom of the closet. As she does, another box in the back falls onto its side and spills its contents. She bends down to pick them up. Then freezes at what she sees, its pictures, and old ones by the look of them. All of them are of her father and mother before she was born. Moira was wondering where she packed those. Picking up one that catches her eyes, it’s one of her mother. She’s standing in the sand at a beach. A wave splashes her feet making her laugh. Her mother looks so happy and carefree and for once Moira see’s that they really do like mother and daughter.

Her father tells her all the time they look alike, but Moira never feels beautiful like her. But she can almost see it now. She can’t help wondering if her mother ever had the problem of hiding who and what she was. She doubts it, but it’s a nice thought to have something in common with the stranger that is her mother. Dropping the picture onto the floor with the others she stands up, grabs the closest hoody at the top of a box, and goes off to get ready.

By the time Moira makes it downstairs, she knows she’s running late. Caroline and Annie are already in the kitchen putting breakfast together. Her father is nowhere to be seen. Silently, she just goes into the kitchen to grab something simple. When she sits down at the counter with a pop tart, Damon is making his way into the kitchen. Looking at him, Moira can’t believe that they are related. He’s completely opposite of her, with his dark hair and eyes. But then he does take after his mother and not their father. Annie is a mixture of the both of them it seems, with her light hair and dark eyes. Damon greets his mother and Annie, but studiously ignores her. She wonders when the instigating switched to animosity between them, but it’s always been this way since she came home when she was seven. He’s only one year younger than her. It might have something to do with her being so different. Not that they’ve ever shared in any way about their feelings.

Avoidance is the key in this family.

Damon grabs his mom’s van keys and heads for the door without offering her a ride. She knows right off that she’s destined for the bus. Moira finishes off her breakfast and runs for the door, only stopping to grab her messenger bag and slip on her blue flats before she hurls herself out the door. Good thing she studied the bus route schedule that they had for Annie the night before. Living in Wilmington, it’s kind of back woodsy, so the houses are spaced apart on this end. It would’ve been one heck of a walk. By the time she makes it to the end of the road, the bus is just pulling up, and Moira sighs in relief. There are some other kids her age climbing on when she walks up, but they don’t pay her any attention.

The bus fumes overwhelm her senses and she cringes. The bus is already full when she climbs on. Everyone is consumed with one another. A shyness she’s never felt before overtakes her as she makes her way towards the back not looking at anyone. The only available seat is almost at the last row of seats with the cages. Now she knows there is no way to blend in if she’s sitting back here. Its reserved seating for the Persona challenged.

It’s the same everywhere. All public transportation has separate seating where people are immersed. In this case, the back two rows are blocked off with cage type bars. It doesn’t have a door, so the middle is open. It must have come across as inhumane to have a door, as if it’s not already inhumane. As usual, the seats in front of the cage are empty, as no one likes to sit too closely to them. Well…mostly. There is one guy sitting behind them.

He regards her with interest. She does the same and notes that he’s the same age as her. He doesn’t look that all that friendly though. In fact, he looks like an older version of her brother, all dark and menacing. Not a good combination. Not wanting to come off as afraid, and not caring what anyone thinks, she sits down in front of the cage. Feeling the eyes of the guy behind her, she gets uncomfortable. Nervousness flits through her, but not all of it is because of the daggers from the boy. She is getting closer to the school too. And the beginning of the end, dramatic yes, but still true. She can feel her skin tingling the more nervous she gets. Not good. Biting the inside of her cheek, she tries to ignore it. When it persists, she bites her cheek harder tasting blood, and flips up her hoody for the rest of the ride.

They make it to the school in about the most awkward forty minutes of Moira’s life. She gets off the bus as fast as she can. She revels in getting lost in the group of anonymous bodies, and makes her way to the entrance. Gazing up at the school as she goes to the door, she can’t help finding it odd that with a small town that they have a large high school. She comes to a stop inside the door as the group in front of her slows down. She peers around the skinny cheerleaders and see’s the metal detector inside. A security guard stands at irritated attention at the door. Her blood runs cold. She can’t believe they have a metal detector. Not even her old school in a city had one. What could they be looking for? It’s not like people like her can stuff they’re teeth and nails in a Prada bag. Or even evidence of lying, like false records, even if it’s impossible.

Moira still feels worried as she steps through the narrow machine and walks through the door.

Clear of anything metal or illegal, Moira rejoins the bustle of a regular hallway. With her shoulders hunched, she reaches into her bag for her schedule. She memorized it the night before, but feels better knowing she won’t walk to the wrong room or something. Her first class is history, on the second floor. So she hurries toward the stairs off to the right. She makes it to the classroom just before the bell rings. Eye’s follow her as she finds an empty seat in the back. She notices that the eyes belong to the dark haired boy from the bus. He watches her from the other side of the room intently. Blushing, she quickly looks away.

Slouching in her wooden deck chair, she tries to appear as unthreatening as possible, and plans to do this for the rest of the day. It works for her for the most part too, just going from one to the next class with no trouble. Not really looking at anyone, and no one really cares to look at her. That is until she goes to lunch. Usually Moira would bring her own lunch, just to avoid the line to buffet food, but she was running late. So, now she stands in line and the smell of the various food stings her nose. She can feel her persona under her skin, as if the food is a threat or something. Snickering to herself, she thinks the food is probably dangerous, most school food is. Having just grabbed some sort of meatloaf medley, she makes her way to the woman cashier. She’s just about to step up to her, when a girl that’s all blonde hair steps in front of her to get to the register first.

In surprise, Moira tries to stop before she smacks into the girl, and only succeeds in spilling her tray of food on her. Screeching, the girl spins around to glare at her, and Moira cringes as the meatloaf gravy slides down the girls once pink tank top. The cafeteria goes quiet, and Moira wishes a black hole would swallow her up.

“What is your problem freak?” The girl in front of her yells.

Moira notices that she has the look of someone popular, with the long blonde hair and expensive looking clothes. She also notices a group of similar looking girls coming over to them, and she assumes they must be her click. Not good she thinks, all she needs is to get the notice of the popular girls, and not the good kind of notice.

“Sorry…” Moira stammers. “…but you came out of nowhere.”

Clearly this is not what the other girl wants to hear, since her eyes go large in rage. Her friends are trying to clean the mess of her, as the cashier lady signals someone behind the counter to get the mess on the floor.

“I, came out of nowhere? I was giving change back, and was supposed to be here. You, on the other hand, were in the way.” She seethes.

Not wanting to start anything, Moira says “I didn’t mean anything by it. I swear. Let me pay for your dry cleaning or something?”

“Oh you’ll pay all right.” She says over her shoulder. She walks away with her group of friends, all glaring at her.

Standing in the same spot, Moira can only feel humiliated as the room slowly fills back up with conversation. All about her, she knows, and can feel her cheeks reddening. Feeling a hand on her shoulder, she jumps about a foot in the air, before turning. It’s a dark haired girl holding two trays, and with a smile she holds one of them out to her. Moira doesn’t even know what to say, so taking the tray with a smile, she pays the cashier without any other disaster. That is if you don’t count the seating situation, which Moira does. Coming to a stop in front of the large room with rectangle tables, they are already mostly filled with people. Standing there like an idiot, she doesn’t know where to go from here, especially after what just happened.