Edge Becomes a Witch | [Half Bad Fanfiction]

Daisy

My phone rings. I open my eyes to see vintage English wallpaper, lit by the scarce moonlight in the room. The window is open. I can't see it, but I feel the chill night breeze brushing over me from behind. Finally, my phone stops ringing. I listen to my breath, feeling as my lungs rise and fall at every inhalation and exhalation, and manage to resist the urge to scream.

I can't think of anything to do, so I just lie here, watching the moonlight on the wall change into a red, warm, sunrise. I try to daydream about Isabella. It helps. Warblers start to sing, I start hearing car traffic, and at last, doors shutting, muffled conversations and a busy staircase.

I sit up, and immediately notice how empty my stomach feels. Dad has sent me a lot of messages, but I can't look at them. I don't want to go out of the room. I know it's a boy's bedroom by how much Sonic I'm seeing; Dean's room.

I'm curled up in a ball, staring at the wall, when I hear a knock on the door.

'Edge? You awake?'

It's Arran. I don't move.

'It's almost noon. Aren't you hungry?'

I close my eyes.

'David made french toast for you... um...' The door opens slightly, and I open my eyes just enough to see his hand sticking out, holding a plate with french toast, 'I'll just put it here on the floor. When you're ready to talk, or if there's anything you need, we're here for you. Take your time and-'

'Just go,' I say, watching his hand slide back, the door shutting, and hearing him leave with a low, okay.

The french toast is ok. When I'm halfway finished with it, the room suddenly turns darker. I turn around to see Daisy standing outside my window, blocking the sun. Her thin brown hair is blowing in the wind, some of it covering her face.

'Why haven't you run away yet?' she asks, trying to get control over the hair in her face. 'You're at the first floor, you wouldn't even risk breaking a leg.'

'I haven't thought about it,' I admit. She leans down, resting her arms in the frame. She squints at me, studying me.

'Now who's lying?' She asks.

I drop my toast.

'What?'

'Last night you said - well, shouted at the top of your lungs - that you wanted to leave the whole mission behind, to go home and die. If you actually meant that, you'd be out of this place hours ago.'

'I didn't mean that... I think.'

'You don't know what you think.'

'Nup. I'm afraid I'll go crazy. I probably already am.'

'Ok... come with me,' she says, taking some steps back, carefully looking around to make sure no one's there.

'Where?' I ask, hesitant.

'A playground.'

'A playground?'

'Yeah, I got a doobie.'

'What's that?'

'You're so cute,' is all she says, before simply leaving. I stay put for some seconds, confused, and unsure whether to follow her, before eventually jumping out of the window with a half-eaten toast in my hand.

A doobie turns out to be weed, and, after a lot of pushing from Daisy (she told me she'd kill me if I didn't smoke it), I try it. It's my first try ever. It sort of helps, sort of makes me feel better, more relaxed, which is, I guess, what I need right now.

I and Daisy are sitting together in a spider web swing, instead of swinging, we're smoking. It's an empty playground in the neighborhood, not far from the house. The sun is high, and the warble birds are still chattering. Daisy smiles at me, and for some reason, I'm smiling back.

'So, now as you're calm and relaxed and not trying to hurt anyone, let's talk about lost memories.'

'Did someone make you do this?' I ask.

'If they knew what we were smoking-'

'Besides that?'

'I'll admit, Arran did whisper something in my ear. He thinks it might be better for you to talk to me, because you can't blame me for anything. I'm just an innocent girl.'

'Who smokes weed.'

'I'm more innocent than your parents.'

'Ah, not this again.'

'You're in denial. You don't want to believe that your parents are responsible for giving you a memory potion, because that sucks. I get that, but it's the truth, Edge.'

'I just don't understand why they would want to erase my memories.'

'Only the memories of Nathan, this side of your family, and magic.'

'But how come I don't feel like anything is missing?'

'I don't know, but you didn't exactly see us often.'

'How often did I?'

'It was like, once a year or something. Nathan and Gabriel visited more often than the rest of us, obviously. It was just us coming to New York, you never visited us.'

'If any of this is even true, I want my memories back.'

'They're gone, Edge. The potion doesn't block memories, it kills them. And if you're in doubt about any of this being true, there are more photo albums around.'

'How do I know it isn't all a set-up?'

'I would call you paranoid, but then again, I can't blame you. You just got to trust me, Edge. I still have memories of you and New York, and so does the rest of us.'

'Tell me about your memories of New York,' I say.

She does, and she describes the apartment, how good I was at building with kapla blocks, the piano that took up most of the space in the tiny hallway, my goldfish George, and the billion refrigerator magnets.

I don't know what to say when she's done. I have to believe her. She rests against my chest, and I wrap my arms around her.

'I'm having my Giving December next year. Will you come?'

'If I'm alive December next year.'