Prophet - Five Hargreeves X oc UMBRELLA ACADEMY

18

Little anneli was reading a book on superstitions around the world; a book she had borrowed from the library and hidden in her bag until she got to the confines of her bedroom. So she would be able to read without criticism or feeling like she was doing something wrong.

Still, as her eyes took in the facinating words, Anneli knew her mother would burn the book if she ever found out.

She had read about magpie's and how the number of them in appearance changed their meaning... Five for silver, six for gold, seven for a secret never to be told...

Or how in Germany you shouldn't congratulate someone before their actual birthday, due to the tale that demons can hear good wishes and would strive to make sure they didnt come true.

She read on - It is said that three knocks upon the door (when there appears to be no one on the other side) foretell the coming of death; a sign or signal that death itself will come to take away the soul of the living.

She pondered this passage with wonder, unsure why it stuck with her. Why it spoke to her.

When her door is flung open, Anneli quickly covers the book with her blankets, hoping, praying, her mother didn't see.

Her mother didn't ever knock.

Her mother spoke stoically, almost robotically calm. "I have something important to ask you." she spoke gently, making Anneli's hackles raise.

Surely her mother knew about the book. She was just tormenting her to make the punishment even worse. Surely her mother wanted her to confess to what she har done, what she hid under her blankets.

Her mother took a seat on the edge of her bed and Anneli watched wide eyed, confused. The woman glanced down beside her leg, where the book was hidden, but met her eyes seriously as though ignoring it.

"If you could go back," her mother began gently before trailing off. "would you?"

Anneli frowned and searched her mothers eyes, finding them strangely blank and devoid of emotion. She would have preferred anger to this strangeness.

Anger, at least, she could predict.

Thinking back on it, she wondered why this memory was toying with her. She knew the memory.

This wasn't it.

Her mother had found her book and upon reading some of it's contents, dragged her downstairs to watch her burn it over the stove flame. She had cried that she needed to return the book, but her mother had dared her to say another word. If she did, she would put her hand over the flame instead. 

But this memory had been twisted, and her mothers voice didn't sound like her own.

Her mothers eyes met hers calmly in this altered figment of her mind. "If you could go back," she asked again, unblinking. "And do it again, knowing what you know now..."

"...Would the outcome still be the same?"