Shut Up, Padfoot!

73

My vision blurred. The wooden table went out of focus and my breath slowed. Mist float in the air from the cup, hot coco swirling slowly. The tips of my fingers burned on the porcelain.

"It's not really the end if you're a strega mortale."

A plate settled in front of me. The edge of the glass grazed my forearm. I tapped my nail on the mug. Curls of paint embed out and I traced it. My cuticle swarmed with green. Emerald traveled down my bare nail and tucked under.

"It's not really the end if you're strega mortale."

Scars that used to run along my palm sunk into my skin. The surface smoothed over, soft to the touch. The ends of my hair didn't come to my elbows anymore, they lost inches. Shorter waves fell in front of my face and poked inward.

"Cry."

With my thoughts broken, I stared up. The sound of sizzling dinner to my side grabbed my attention. Xenophilius stood next to me, pan and spatula in hand. A towel thrown over his shoulder and awaiting gaze.

"I asked would you like more?" he repeated.

Pursing my lips, I tore my look from him and back to my plate. Already, filled with enough food for tonight. I didn't notice.

"Oh..no, this is enough," I replied.

He listened and worked around the table, approaching his own plate. Pandora handed me a fork and sat back in her seat, placing the last fork next to his napkin.

I grit my teeth, tightening the grip on the cutlery. The other two began their meal, bubbling with short talk. He told her all about school and how well it was going. She responded with the uneventful things that have happened the past couple weeks.

Neither had the courage to address the important.

I feel sick.

"I can't do this anymore," I blurt.

Their heads turned to me. Her wrist rest on the corner of the table, scanning her eyes over me. Brows furrowed, frowns formed. Xenophilius chewed some more, blinking for some sort of explanation.

My fork clattered on the table.

I shot up from my seat, chair screeching on the ground. Their positions grew cautious, atmosphere enveloping in unease. My eyes flickered between them. A slight flit to my head and back to my face came from Pandora.

The metamorphmagus.

Quickly, I flew to the mirror on the side. The scratches in the glass wove from the corners. Black strands framed my temples, long and straight. Widening my eyes, I peered deeper.

My pupils seemed to have grown. Irises drowned in blackness. The dark lifeless glare reflected back at me. My heart dropped. A replication of the infamous killer. An illusion of a sister.

"Cry? What's going on?" Pandora questioned.

Biting my lip, I lowered my lids and forced myself to look away. Disgusting. I feel so so sick. I don't think I can do this all over again.

Another universe? Another one where he promised he'll kill me? Kill me in every single one and make sure I can never get away.

Whirling around, I made a run for it.

The back door came into my view. I ripped the screen door back, pushing my way through. The winter air sunk into my skin and I stepped my foot outside.

The snow soaked through my sock. Then the other. I ran into the backyard, snowflakes falling. My breaths went up and my heart skipped beats. Exhales condensed and the snow traveled up my legs.

The tall piles of white liquified and the thin layer of my pajamas clung to my legs. Dark sky full of lowering crystals of atmosphere welcomed me.

"Cry!"

Looking over my shoulder, I caught glimpse of following figures. My fringe fell into my eyes, causing my throat to constrict. I watched as the two waded their way through the snow. They completely disregarded their jackets, their shoes.

"I finally know why!" I shouted.

"What? Cry, what are you talking about?" Pandora yelled back.

She tried reaching me in her attempt. Her face contorted with concern, almost like she'll really witness the limits of my mentality.

"Get back inside, we can talk in there," Xenophilius ordered.

I smiled bitterly and turned my head up to the sky. A laugh erupted from my chest, a choked sob behind it. I finally get it now.

"I'm always meant to be killed. Whether it be this reality or the next, I'm supposed to die from his hand," I exclaimed.

Snowflakes landed on my cheeks and melted. Along with the tears falling from the corners of my eyes, welling up along my hairline.

I threw my arms in the air and stood, surrendering to the world. Chills wracked my body. When I did so, the wind picked up and I saw the fleeting glances of my golden hair. Acceptance has stopped its awaiting, it has finally settled.

I screamed.

Yelled at the top of my lungs. Poured my pain and my love out there. The answer was always there. I just chose not to see it.

I can fight as much as I want, in the end, I'll see the ocean. With my toes in the sand and the water drowning me, the end remains the same.

I'll stop breathing in this life. In the next. The other reality, this reality. The universe with subtle changes, the exact same as this one.

Cry Phoenix dies on the cusp of sixteen and seventeen.

Where summer burns the hottest and the train finally comes to a stop. In a train station filled with horrors and memories. Train tracks filled with blood and mutters of 'Until September!' every time the season comes.

My mouth closed, my voice has ceased. Now they know, now I know. And this divine truth will be something I'll discover in every reality, universe, life. This complete revelation will be the first sign that my death is near.

"Why couldn't it be sooner?" I cried quietly.

I fell to my knees. The tracks of my footprints leading to the deep intrusions in the piles led to my fallen figure.

Steam filtered through the sky. Tendrils of smoke licked the freezing climate. Fire seared through my blood and the heat radiated. Snow melted around me.

Burning flames erupted once again.

-lana