The Misadventures of Daria Pigwidgeon (20 page)

Anymore? Is she for real? I’ve never been safe, not with them anyway. I don’t care what they say about it being my fault. It’s not excusable. I had my reasons for making them forget me, and those attempts were before I did anything about it. So how do they explain that?

My gaze shifts back to the woman before me, and I let her feel the full weight of my seething glare.

“You’re lying. All of you are. If you cared so much, I never would have had to defend myself in the first place. I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing at, but I’m done.”

My mother shows the first actual fear I’ve ever seen on her, and it’s all directed at me. She takes a step back and joins my father. I smile.

“You need to believe us daughter. It took us a while to find you, but it’s only a matter of time before the others do too. They won’t just try to end you, not when there is so much you can do for them.”

I block out any sound from entering my thoughts. I hear them, but I don’t have to listen or believe any of it. Do they really think I’m that stupid? Yes I came here expecting to die, but still. I shake my head at her and turn for the doorknob. I don’t look back, not afraid that they’ll rush me. Let them try to stop me. I can feel my inner Taser just begging for a release. My hand slips over the handle.

“Don’t you understand? Your ability can’t save you all the time. Not when there is more than you can control. Your sister is proof of that.” My mother pleads.

My hand twists the knob.

“Please be smart about this. We can help keep you safe. That’s all we want now.” She begs.

I pull the door open wide.

“Listen to your mother, child. It’s dangerous on your own. Not all enemies can be seen. Some blend in the night.” My father explains.

I step from the room.

“We won’t leave you to your demise Daria. Just know we’ll be here if you need us.” My mother whispers.

I shut the door and walk away.

I keep walking until I can no longer feel the tendrils of my family’s power. Basically, that means I walk a couple blocks away from the motel before I come to a stop. I find a tree in someone’s lawn and lean against it with a sigh of relief. Looks I was totally fooling myself with being all right in walking to my death. That’s good to know I suppose. Unfortunately, my family is more evil than I thought. They’re like a cat playing with a mouse before they eat it. Not something I enjoy by the way. Torture and life-offing attempts are one thing, but head games? Not cool.

I know I shouldn’t believe a single thing that came out of their mouths, but I can’t help thinking that some of it kind of has a ring of truth to it. Like the bit about me not being able to memory block large groups of people at the same time. Is that it then? My sister isn’t really a person, she’s a demon. Can I not use my gift on people and demons in the same way at the same time? I sort of remember getting a headache trying to force the matter, but who knows.

Not I say’s the girl slowly having a mental breakdown.

As for the rest of it, it clearly is all just part of the mind games. Others, really? What is this some episode of Lost or something? Not seeing Mathew Fox or that hot guy that plays Sawyer anywhere, I don’t think that’s it. I could only be so lucky. And what’s with all the imminent danger scare? If these others think I’m that much of a liability or whatever, wouldn’t they have, I don’t know, tried for me by now. Or back in California? None of this makes any sense, least of all the part that they would want to use me.

What would a bunch of demons want with me, the runt of the litter? I have a soul, but that hardly makes me a winning prize. Right? My soul makes me an abomination to my kind, not the other way around. There is nothing useful in my ability either, besides my own attempts at defense. Man oh man, could my life suck anymore? And on my birthday, guess some things never change. That’s good to know. We’re they serious about sticking around? Ugh, I certainly hope not.

I know I can’t run away forever, but I’m going to try my hardest. But where can I go? They already found me here, so it would be only a matter of time before they found me again. Does that make it all right to stay though, to go back to my apartment, the Harris’s? If I do go back, I could be very well be putting them all in harm’s way. Is my need for a normal life so important, that I’d risk that? Do I even have a choice? No I don’t, and I probably never have.

I push away from the tree and aimlessly walk in what I hope is the direction of home. Where that is, I just don’t know anymore. Apparently, I was recuperating longer than I thought, because it’s now dark out. I don’t even remember the sun going down. Good to know I’m so observant, and care so much about my life expectancy. Even if my mother’s warnings can’t be true, I do feel a little unnerved walking on my own in the dark. This makes no sense I know, especially since I’ve been doing just that every night after work for the last month. It feels different somehow tonight though.

The streets are just about as empty as they were when I walked them this morning. And that’s unusual unto itself, mostly because it can’t be late enough for the people in the homes around me to turn in for the night. In the past, I’ve always run into elderly couples walking or even children still out playing, on my walks from work. This gets the chills running down my spine. My inner Taser is back urging me to listen. Ozone is thick around me and I get the sense that I’m not as alone as I originally thought. I don’t see anything though, so it could just be that my nerves have fried.

I continue my walk, but add a little more to the pace. Silence is all around me and so is the dark. I ignore it all and refuse to believe anything out of the ordinary is going on. I keep it that way until I come to one of the busiest four-way stops in town, only to find it completely deserted. Well, that can’t be good can it? I suddenly feel like I just got dropped into a horror movie, my parent’s warnings ringing in my ears.

What was that my father said before I closed the door, something about things blending in with the night? Standing in the middle of the street, alone, I glaze out into the night around me. It’s utterly silent, empty, and strange. If (and I mean if here) my parents were telling the truth, does this mean the enemy is already here? Heck, I figured I’d have some time to mope around and play the whole woe is me bit, and toss a few ideas around about what I was just told.

This is not the case evidently, because I doubt shadows are supposed to move unless there is a body attached to them. And I don’t see any people around, so yeah, the shadows should not be moving closer to me. That is what they are doing to. As I stand here like the weirdo I am, the night seems to be taking a life of its own and coming straight for me. My first instinct is to memory block whatever is coming and get the heck out of here. But where would I direct my ability? Shadow’s does not a body make, and they’re everywhere.

My inner Taser is going haywire inside me. I can practically taste ozone at the back of my tongue. My limbs quiver in fear. I can’t just stay here. I have to move. My fear keeps me frozen. It almost feels like what my sister had thrust at me before, but it’s different somehow. It’s like I can’t even form rational thought, even though I know I have to. My head feels full. My body feels full. Suddenly all I want is to lay down right here in the middle of the road and go to sleep. It actually sounds pretty reasonable. I have been through a lot today. Some rest would help make me feel better.

Distantly I feel myself start to lower to the ground, almost like I’m a spectator in my own body.

Ozone fills me then, joining the fullness already inside. A jittery feeling consumes me. My limbs quiver even more. A static shock flitters down my body, making my thoughts hiss through the fullness. The fog starts to clear. Pain consumes me and I’m zapped back into myself. I cry out and fall to my knees. My head feels like I just got zapped by my own Taser and my body twitches with tingles. I suddenly feel like I’m trying to wake up after being asleep for a long time. I notice then, the darkness is a little at bay.

Waiting.

For what I don’t know, but I really don’t want to find out. I force my shaking legs to get me to my feet. I succeed, a little unsteady, but I’m up. I don’t wait for whatever comes next. I simply dash forward and right into the shadows. They hold the same grasping tendrils like my family’s own power. And tendrils are something I know about. Something I can almost see in my mind’s eye and something I can defend myself against.

I don’t move very far through the shadows, and I have to slow my breathing against the panic that is trying to rise as. Keeping it at bay, I quickly call on the pull that is always at my feet. It’s almost like the very ground wants to suck me down into oblivion, but as if it can sense my panic, it comes to me easier than ever. My head is filled with its familiar fog. Its tendrils tickle my thoughts, and for the first time it doesn’t beg or urge me to ignore its touch. It urges me to use it to protect myself.

Not having enough to wonder at the change, I then reach out to the pull that is all around me. There is a resistance at first, like the familiar breeze is too far away to hear my call. I stretch my mind as far as it will go, and soon, the shadows are joined with a tornado like breeze. A warm breeze coats the inside of my body then. It fills me with peace. Together they dance inside me and I know that the shadows can sense it too. They shy away from me then, the tendrils sliding away from me. I burst free of their hold, like a rubber band being snapped free, and run headlong out into the open street.

I really hope my memory block will work a little better than it did back at school, because at the way I’m running, I know it’ll cause a scene. Not that there are even any people out to witness it. Still I run and fast. I wrap the fog around me like a cloak and pray beyond actual prayer that I can actually keep it up. I can physically feel the night following closely at my back. I just know it’s waiting for me to slip up. And when I do, it’ll get me. When that happens, I don’t know if I’ll be able to fight it off, if that’s what I did in the first place.

Honestly, I’m not sure what happened.

I rush through empty intersections, dark houses and quiet streets pass me by. My breath comes in fast pants. My heart hammers in my chest. A sweat breaks out all along my body and still I run. I ignore the way my head pounds, and let my aching feet carry me far away. I run for so long in the dark, that a bright light heading in my direction blinds me. I don’t slow down though. If anything, I push myself harder not caring if this is another enemy or help.

The closer the light gets, I begin to notice things, like the fact that it’s two lights and not one. It’s speeding faster towards me and the sound of rubber grinding against asphalt is all around me. That’s pretty much when I realize that the light coming for me is a car, one that is in the road, where I am so stupidly running. Guess the night isn’t as empty as I thought.

Just as the car reaches me, I throw myself out of the way feeling the brush of air as it passes. In a skidding roll, I land on the other side of the road, and feel it the whole way. When I come to a stop, I swear my bruises will have bruises. That is if I’m even alive now. Feeling strangely numb, I don’t think I am. A high pitched screeching sound pierces the numbness coating me. Turing my head to face in the direction of the car, I find that it’s stopped.

I only have a second to hope that my memory block worked on the driver, when they back up towards me. They are going too fast, and I know I’ll never have time to move out of the way. But when they screech to a grinding stop again, just shy of my legs I might add, I don’t have to worry. Much. I do however, force my pitifully arms to scoot me away from the car. I’m barely getting away at a snail’s pace when the car door whips open. With a whimper I drag my frightened eyes to what will either be my savior or my destroyer. I really doubt the only driver on an abandoned street is here to recue me.

Ignoring the fact that the shadows that are (were) chasing me can’t be too far away, I let my eyes drift to the opening inside the car. There is a dim lite seeping out. It blinds me for a second. When my eyes adjust, I see the driver. All the breath rushes out of me. My whimper becomes a gasping cry of alarm. The drivers startling shade of crystal clear blue eyes is something I never thought I’d see again.

It’s Chance.

He leans out of his car (a red mustang that I didn’t see clearly until now) and holds out an outstretched hand to me. His eyes are wild, flickering up and down the road. They rest on me for only seconds, but I can clearly see him fear. He not only can see me right now, but knows I’m in trouble. I stare at his hand like it’s a beacon of hope, but I don’t reach for it. My own fear keeps me frozen in place. Questions run through my mind, but the numbness keeps any answers that might lurk from coming to me. I just don’t know what to do.

Frustrated tears slide through my eyes and leave scalding trails down my cheeks. A whining whimper escapes my clenched lips, and I can’t make it stop. I can’t do anything. Chance stops his eye movements, and lands solely on me. Fear rushes through me, even as my chest tightens at the sight of him. I’m afraid of the beautiful boy before me, a boy that I let touch in places like no other. I can’t decide if I should trust him.

“Take my hand rabbit, and get in the car.”

I jerk at his whispering voice. He shakes his hand at me, urging for me to take it, to trust him. I think.

So I do. Against my better judgment (that is currently cloaked in an ever-growing fear) I reach for his hand. His warm fingers envelope me and pull me up to my feet and towards him.

Letting go of my hand he tells me, “Go around to the other side, quick.”

Not stopping to think, I rush around to the passenger side. I’m just reaching for the door when he opens it from the inside. I quickly slide in and slam the door behind me. I barely have a second to catch my breath before he steps on the gas pedal. My body is slammed into the seat as we fly forward at a speed I’ve never been comfortable with. I cling to the seat, my hands squeezing the taunt fabric, and try to keep myself from losing it.