Grimm Reaction: A Price to Pay

Chapter 8: Answers?

"You're not Max anymore."

I stare at my friend, unable to speak. I couldn't argue with her. I knew I couldn't. Yet it all seemed too difficult to believe. Just a couple of days ago I had been mowing the front yard, doing my homework, throwing my homework away... and now I'm not who I thought I was?

I mean, yes. I always known that I was different, but I thought that was just because of my past. Not because I was some sort of... wait.

'If I'm not human, then what am I?' I thought, frowning.

My eyes returned to the book in my hand.

Answers. That's all I needed. But, did I really want to know? Can't I just continue with my life and forget everything that happened? 'No,' I thought. 'That didn't work last time. I shouldn't have even considered it. My life has changed again, and now I have to face it.'

"I'm going to open it." I said, breaking the silence. Liz looked up and nodded. Her face displaying a mixture of curiosity and fear.

I opened the book, and stared.

"Shadow? what is it? What does it say?" Liz asked, leaning forward. There's that name again.

"Whoever wrote this has a sick sense of humor." I mumbled. my friend gave me a questioning look.

"I'll read it out load," I decided.

"I'm glad you finally decided to actually read me instead of just talking to your girlfriend. Despite the fact that I'm a book doesn't mean that I'm not aware of what's going on and that I don't have feelings. And as a matter of fact, I have no writer, and my sense of humor is just fine." I stopped, "wait, what?"

I reread the last sentence, "And as a matter of fact, I have no writer, and my sense of humor is just fine."

"Maybe that's just a coincidence." Liz suggested.

I continued reading, "Tell your girlfriend that coincidences don't exist."

"Shadow. That isn't funny. What does it actually say?" She huffed.

"Hey, I'm not joking around. Look. That's exactly what it says." I showed her the book. Liz took a minute to read it and then laughed. "What?" I asked, looking at the page.

"Please tell her to not breathe directly on me. I don't want to smell like chocolate spread."

I glared at Liz. "Sorry, I couldn't help it." she said apologetically.

I rolled my eyes. "Okay, so the book is alive. Now I've seen everything." I returned to reading.

"Hardly, you haven't seen much at all." I growled, "What? I'm only telling you the truth.

"I'm the book of fate. And I can tell you anything you need to know, but only what you need. Not what you want. So go ahead and ask away. I'll answer what I can."

I paused, thinking. "What's the answer to life?"

"That's easy. Fulfilling your individual purpose. Humans like to overthink that one."

Liz perked up, "When will the world end?"

"Whenever it's purpose is fulfilled. Don't you two have a more important question to ask?"

We frowned.

I sighed, "Yeah, What am I?"

"Ah. Yes, much better. You are a very important creature. One that, if you didn't exist, would create an empty hole in history. Both in this world and others. And it's not just you either. Your friend over there is equally important."

Both me and Liz turn to stare at each other, our faces full of confusion.

"Who helped us?" I asked, wanting to know more about the guy who had left the book.

"The same person that sealed you in a human body. Geez, do you two know nothing?" Fate asked.

"No." I replied, annoyed.

"Fine then. I'll explain everything later. Your people are coming, and I suggest that you hide me."

I paused and listened, and, surely enough, there were footsteps. I quickly shoved the book under the pillow as Liz grabbed the box and attempted to gather the confetti. I scooped up what I could and dumped the bright litter into the trash beside the bed. All the while familiar voices crept closer to the door.

"......very lucky.....you should...proud."

"We are... God, knows what.......been through."

"Can I give...a hug?"

"Not now honey, she's still hurt."

Liz hid the box under her chair; I noticed the jar of coco-butter still sitting in plain view. The doorknob turned in slow motion as I quickly snatched the jar and tossed it to Liz. Who stuffed it in beside the box of confetti just as the door opened.

"Max!" A young boy around the age of four rushed into the room. His red hair was sticking out all over the place, and his freckled cheeks had random lines drawn on them. I had no doubt they were from my marker set.

"DeedasaidthatyoufaughtacarandbeatitupbutgothurtandIwassoworryedbutrememberedthatyouwereinvicable..."

"Whoa. Slow down there Sam, you're going to pass out." I laughed, "Get up here."

"What does that mean? Is it like passing gas?" My foster brother asked innocently as I helped him up onto the hospital bed. My side once again decided to make its presence known. I girted my teeth, but kept smiling. "Not exactly kid."

"Sam! I thought I told you not to do that!" Debra, my adopted mom, entered the room. Her eyes were underlined with bags, and her strict voice sounded tired. A female doctor followed behind her.

"But Deeda." Sam whined, sticking out his lower lip to pout.

"No buts," She said, picking him up. "Max needs be relaxing. Not wrestling with a kid like you."

"It's okay," I said. "It was my fault."

Dedra gave me a small smile, but I could see that it was fake. 'She's probably wondering about my hair...and my eyes...and the collar.' I thought miserably.

"I'll have to agree with your mother," The doctor said. "You shouldn't even be sitting up."

"Sorry, I told her not to." Liz spoke up.

I shot her a disapproving glance. She shrugged.

"Whatever, when can I go home?" I asked, the smell of cleaning supplies and chemicals was starting to make my nose burn.

The doctor gave me an apologetic grin, "In about a week. If you do well, that is."

"A week!" I exclaimed. "But I'm fine!"

"You were hit by a car. You have two fractured ribs, an open wound in your abdomen that had to be stitched, You have road burns all over your body, and we still don't know if you have any brain damage or what caused your hair and eye color to change." She said, narrowing her eyes.

I stiffened. 'oh, please don't tell me that your another Damond.'

"My what changed?" I asked, playing dumb.

"Somebody get me a mirror." The doctor mumbled in frustration.