Keychains ✔

VIII

**Note: This is about double the usual length of my chapters, but a) I felt everything was important to a certain degree, and b) I am happy but absolutely exhausted from editing and reading and internally criticizing it way too much. Take your time, and feel free to point out what works and what doesn't. It is imperfect but here it is, the half way point. Thanks so much for reading. :)

Oh, also do take your time through this chapter. It's an emotional whirlwind, and I may suggest drinking some liquid goodness afterwards. <3 If you're not comfortable reading potentially triggering stuff, you can stop after the time skip and go directly to the memory fragment near the chapter's end. Then I've provided a summary of everything that happened.  

In the early morning rays, the downtown shops lining Yonge Street stirred. Those whose owners were early birds, like me, were switching on their lights, wiping their windows, and welcoming their first customers. Storefronts held hints of Halloween decor, while others were edged with piles of fallen leaves. I passed Coop's Bistro and Bar, which wouldn't be open till noon, and Hannah's confectionery, where I waved to Emmanuel rolling out a rack of freshly baked croissants. My condo stood at the next block, patiently waiting for me to gather my nerves. A school bus passed me filled with little kids. A few stray leaves blew my way, hitting my face. They were fun to play with as a kid.

As a teen, I imagined fantasies where my Unlocking ability could help others. Like a fortune teller. People would come in to have their keys read, shed light on their past, and guide them in a better direction. What better way to use my power than giving it a purpose? It was an eccentric pathway I had seriously considered before concluding that it wasn't realistic. Still, the strangeness had its appeal.

The notion oddly reminded me of Tai. I had his number, but discussing my own problems after breaking up would be rude. Still, talking to him was...well it felt like I could tell him anything, and he would understand. 

Not about my parents. Not yet, anyway. But about the strange part of me. My Unlocking and my visions. At one point I'd even used my limited scientific knowledge to speculate the reason for my power's existence. And if there were others like me.

It was late to think like that. If I had given my number to Tai that night—which remained a hazy memory—wouldn't he have called me by now? Other dates have called me back before, mostly just to say hi. It worked to confirm that no, we weren't good matches but yes, we were decent people otherwise. For Tai, all of that was a question mark.

I owed him an apology. It wasn't right for me to treat him so rudely. How long would I take mopping up my mistakes?

As time edged nearer to the inevitable, I made for my condo. Tai might be gone, but my parents would stay in my life no matter how far away I lived.

It was time to have a chat with my parents.

—

Ten minutes left. Hannah offered me a cup of coffee. I sipped it, hoping it'd take the edge off my nerves.

"It'll be okay." Hannah smiled, worry creeping into her eyes.

Meabh sauntered on the floor, stretching in the sunlight that streamed through the windows. She came to my hand and let me scratch her chin.

Hannah picked up one of Allison's paintings, which I'd left on the table beside my laptop. I felt stronger with them. They told me the MacIntyre house was real. Allison was real. And my visions held the key to a deeper truth.

"Your aunt imitated Van Gogh's style in this one," Hannah observed.

"What do you think it means?" I asked. It was a relatively simple painting. A vase of flowers, painting with multi-coloured brushstrokes that moved if I looked at it long enough. Movement in still life. The opposite of the pastel-coloured company graphics I was accustomed to. Yet Allison's paintings drew me in.