SHADOW OF MYSELF

Chapter Seven(ii)

Prisca's POV

Dread coiled in my stomach as I descended the stairs. Every face I saw held a mix of grief and anger, except for Joshua's, which was conspicuously absent. My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs. Where was he?

Finally reaching the bottom step, my mom's voice, laced with venom, shattered the tense silence. "You witch! You took away the one person brave enough to protect you!"  Disbelief washed over me. Did my own mother just call me a witch?

Before I could stammer out a response, Aunt Carolina lunged at me, her grief manifesting as two stinging slaps. Her hair was disheveled, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy from crying. She looked like a woman on the verge of collapse.

Tears welled up in my own eyes, a mixture of confusion and anger boiling over. "What did I do?" I cried, my voice shaking. "Why are you treating me like this?"

My mom stormed up to me, her eyes blazing. Three more slaps landed on my face, each one a searing indictment. "You don't deserve to live, Prisca! How dare you ask what you've done?" Her voice cracked, and tears streamed down her face. "Can't you see the pain we're all in? You were unconscious for three days while we mourned the loss of a family member!"

The reason for their anger was lost on me. I hadn't killed anyone. But a more pressing question gnawed at me – who had died to cause so much heartache, so much raw grief that it turned my own mother against me?

"Who died, Mom?" I pleaded, desperately seeking an answer.

My mother glared at me, her voice a chilling hiss. "Don't play dumb, Prisca! It's the only man who would do anything for his cousin."

My body went rigid, a cold dread seeping into my bones. Tears streamed down my face as the pieces clicked into place. I wanted to ask how, but the question died in my throat.

Aunt Carolina, fueled by her grief, grabbed me roughly and doused me with gasoline. Panic seized me. Just as she reached for a match, Zach burst into the room, his face etched with urgency.

"You can't do this!" he roared, yanking the matches away from my aunt. "Joshua wouldn't have wanted this. Please, think straight!"

Relief washed over me at his intervention. Aunt Carolina, however, remained unconvinced. Tears streamed down her face as she argued, "Why should I stop? She's evil, don't you see it? Everyone around her dies; that's her curse, Zach! If you don't want to be next, let me end her now before it's too late!"

My heart ached. The aunt who once loved me dearly now saw me as a monster. Through tear-filled eyes, I choked out, "I didn't do anything wrong, Aunt Carolina! Why are you trying to kill me?"

Her reply was a stinging slap. "Your attitude is the problem, Prisca! You don't deserve protection! You are those shadows themselves – the ones that hunt you – the ones that took my darling Joshua days ago, you witch!"

The world spun as I heard the confirmation of my worst fear. Joshua was dead. The pain echoed the nightmares I'd been having, a recurring premonition of loss.

Grief rendered me speechless. I simply turned and walked away, my feet carrying me aimlessly for hours. Just when my legs gave way and I sank to the ground, a familiar voice echoed in my head, cool and calming.

"I'm here for you, Prisca. Don't let the shadows from the past consume you. This isn't the end. There's more to come." It was Joshua.

But where was he? The question remained unanswered. Instead, I succumbed to a wave of fresh tears, clinging desperately to my chest as the sound of rushing footsteps reached my ears.

Lifting my head, I saw three dark figures approaching. Fear propelled me forward, but my legs wouldn't cooperate.

Just as despair threatened to consume me, the black clouds and suffocating darkness descended once more. My vision faded, and I was plunged into oblivion.