The Witch's Toy ✔

29: letting it go

"Talisman is a shaman's primary form of defense," Uriel explained, handing me a stack of thin yellow sheets. They were bound together but done so in a way that would make it easy to tear a piece off when needed. "Because if you don't have the time to recite an incantation or have the ability to fight a creature off physically, a talisman is your last option."

I studied the papers, running my hands down its smooth, silky surface. It felt very delicate underneath my fingertips but held an immense amount of power. "Do I need a brush?"

"No." My grandmother shook her head. To demonstrate, she ripped a page from the stack, before flinging it in the air. As if on some kind of cue, the talisman flew to the wall in front of us, a character emblazoning itself into the yellow paper in red script. "You only have to think about what you want. 'Binding' something or someone is the kind you will most likely be using, though you're not limited to that one character."

"Are they... easily broken? The talisman, I mean?" I remembered how I had, with no effort at all, unbound Azazel from his resting place and freed Raphael.

"Only if the creature or person is strong enough."

I nodded.

When Uriel didn't move to give or show me anything else, I looked up expectantly, wondering if she wanted my attention before she continued. But by the expression on her face, I realized that she was, in fact, done.

"Am I —" My brows came together in slight confusion. "Am I... prepared already?"

She only offered me a smile, nodding. "Everything else about familiars, bonds, demons, and the otherworldy in general I've already told you. And because you have interacted with that world from a young age, I don't have to worry about you being unprepared or caught off-guard by an unknown creature."

"But I —"

"Yu Rui, remember that you are a descendant of an archangel, human or not," My grandmother said, stepping forward towards me. Both her hands came up to my face, her fingers brushing my long fringe away from my eyes. It'd grown long enough to reach my cheeks, but I never had the chance to trim them, nor did I want to before. Having long hair meant I could cover myself up, hide behind a black curtain, and disappear... even if only for a few moments.

I lacked confidence in general and at some lower points in life, lacked the confidence to continue living.

A waste of space.

Unneeded.

I'd felt like that constantly and though I've already convinced myself that death wasn't an escape from all my troubles, I knew the thought was always at the back of my mind, eating away from my self-esteem and self-worth. If I claimed I didn't feel worthless anymore, that would be a little white lie. Because I did still feel that way... and I'd told myself that I was useless thousands of times. I just didn't want to admit that I was like this.

Biting my bottom lip, I brought my eyes up to my grandmother's watching how hers seemed so luminous. Like something I could easily dive into and get lost in — an ocean so deep and wide that no one would be able to swim out of.

"Yeah," I whispered. "Yeah, you're right."

I desperately need that extra push — those words that could assure me that going on and living wasn't just purely existing. If I succeeded in taking my life on all my previous attempts, the cursed toys would still be in that haunted mansion. I didn't know if they'd be bound in there for eternity, or if someone else was going to accidentally wander in, perhaps have enough power flowing through their veins to break the same bonds I broke.