Twisted Souls || Michael Langdon

Chapter Thirty: Practice Makes Perfect

Solitude. 

Something I knew all too well since my parents passed. Without them, it was just me in the world. Calls and Christmas cards from aunts, uncles, and cousins slowly faded away as the years went by. Relatives who plastered artificial smiles on their faces and spoke in shrill tones no longer extended an invitation to their homes. Though... I didn't mind. I knew they talked about me and each other when backs were turned. No longer having them part of my life was freeing, like cutting off an anchor from a boat. No more gossip, forced conversations, and judgemental glances at every family event. 

At first, I despised being by myself, at the thought of no one caring for me when it comes to my family. I was scared, clueless on how to navigate life without the wise words of a caring uncle, the soothing touch from an aunt, or the light-hearted advice from a slightly older cousin.

I was alone. 

But, solitude became my friend.

I learned how to get through life by myself, working three jobs to earn money, living in the filthiest apartment to have a roof over my head, and learning how to cut back on meals to last me through the week. I put myself through college and learned how to stand on my own two feet. Being alone only made me stronger.

However, I also came to learn that love not only came from family but from friends as well. Lillian Greyson and I met and it was like two puzzle pieces finding each other. We were each other's best friend, soul sister, and more. She sprinkled more light into my life, along with the other friends I made through the years.

But there are moments where I do crave solitude, being alone. 

And that is why I stood in the middle of a field one evening, the moon high above my head, my back flat against the ground. My shift at work was difficult, the details from my patients' sessions weighing down on me, which rarely happened. 

I needed to breathe, to escape, to have time away from people for a bit. As soon as my shift ended, I jumped in my car and drove to the nearest prairie. The dried texture of the barren grass beneath me scratched at the sleek, black jumpsuit and matching blazer I wore. But I had no care in the world. I savored each quiet moment, calming my racing heart and mind.

Slowly, I raised my hand and closed my eyes, envisioning the moon's rays in my palm. A warm glow graced my cheeks and I smiled, knowing that I was successful. Without hesitation, I swept my fingers over the grass near me, opening my eyes to see the blades come back to life. Green and plump, a complete contrast of its dead counterparts beside it. 

Not bad.

My smile grew as I again withdrew light from the moon and continued to bring the area around me back to life. Once I had made a small bed of living grass around me, I traced my hand in the air and began to draw shapes with the moon's rays over me. The light sparkled and glowed, creating a comforting area amongst the darkness surrounding me. 

"You're very talented." A voice crept up into the night air. Confused, I jumped to my feet and whirled around, only to find no one there. 

"Who's there?!" Again, I turned towards the opposite direction, but there was no one in sight. Instead, only the vast emptiness of the dried up field met my gaze. A mile away, parked at the side of the road, was my car, with no other vehicle near it.

"Who taught you how to do that?" The voice questioned, gentle as a dove's feather, smooth as silk. 

"Show yourself!" I yelled with my hands raised up, ready to use my magic, but no one stepped forward. 

"Let's see how good your teacher is." He responded back and in that moment, the air became ten times heavier. An eerie feeling descended onto my shoulders as the temperature dropped a few significant degrees.