Fragmented Soul

Sadie Miles

I was never anyone's first choice in anything.
It is sad thing to say, but that is true.
Let me explain.
See, most of the friends I had, they are not my friends any more. Jacob and I fell apart, and that led to me and Maximilian falling apart. Carla talked shit about me in front of all of our class to my face, which naturally means she doesn't give a host about me. Caleb moved away when we were eight, and I never heard of him ever again.
Lydia and I are still friends. She is an exception, but I'm not her first choice, her parents are her first choices. Johanna and I are some kind of frenemies. We are good most of the time, but when we fight, we can go without talking for weeks. Emma and I are old friends, and we still hang out, but I know that she has her priorities well sorted out, and I just come little below them.
And there is Abby. We are more like summer friends than actual friends. We hear from each other every week, but we see each other only during the summer and sometimes during school days. Her brother Ethan and I are also summer friends, some others that spent their summers in Genoa too. Roberto and Theodore, Alexis, Mark and Luna, Rosa always come there during summers, but we are not exactly friends outside Genoa. We hear from each other, but we aren't each other's first choices.
Sasha is like my sibling even though we are not blood related. We are really close and I can tell them anything, and they can tell me anything too. The only problem? They are non - binary and pansexual, which most of my family find odd. My mum constantly tells me to stop hanging out with Sasha and start hanging out with people my age, even though Sasha is only two years older. We are nobodies first choice. We choose each other, and other people as well as our choice; Sasha their mother, and me Henry.
Then, there is Henry, my little brother. He is almost three years younger, and we are still good siblings and we get along. It's just,... I know that Henry would only choose me not to disappoint me or our parents, but usually, I am not his first choice, it is our dad. It hurts, because he is mine first choice along with Sasha.
My parents love me and Henry, but we are their second choices. They would chose each other first, then, right away, Henry and me. I guess that's reasonable. Henry and I are just kids, and they are soulmates, loves of their lives, even if they're not married.
Maybe I sound selfish. I don't know. I probably do. I don't care. I would choose someone first, I want to be chosen first by someone. I am only thirteen, there is still time for me. I want to feel loved, really loved, loved by someone who doesn't have to love me, by someone who doesn't feel obligated to care about me.
But, then again, I don't want to be a burden to anyone. I want to be free, successful, happy, truly happy, meet people I can trust with anything, have good and healthy relationships. I want so, so many things. And sometimes it feels like I have so, so little of what I want.
I know I have to work on it, and I do, but sometimes it is just so hard. Healthy relationships? I think so. But good? No. Am I successful? Not yet. Am I happy? Not truly and not always, but not always being happy is a part of life and that's normal. Do I know people I can trust with anything? Yeah, I can trust Sasha with most of things, but some things are exclusively for me and for nobody else, they are my secrets.
I wish we were born into families that fit us the best, but we don't. We have our family bonded by blood, that does not necessarily mean that it fits us. It usually doesn't, and then, we have to find our families that we build together just for ourselves, that we chose. Sometimes, I am tired of searching for it because I feel like I will never find it.
I put my denim jacket on the hanger and put it in the closet. "Hi, guys!" I yell.
"Hi," Henry grumbles. I untie my shoelaces and take of my black Converse.
"Hi, Sadie," Mum says. "Where did you and Johanna go?"
I look into the living room from its doorway. Mum is sitting on the couch, watching Netflix and Henry is playing PlayStation 9. "Where would we go?" I sigh, leaning in on the doorway.
"Where do young people go?"
"We were at Wendy's," I say. "Young people go there," I turn around and go into my room.
I lay down on the bed, staring at the dark blue ceiling with plastic stars glued to it. I move my fingers in front of my eyes, playing with my dark gray aura, which tickles me. It always does.
My parents don't have auras, at least that I know of, but Henry does. It is the same colour as mine, and we have the same abilities; mimicking one's ability if they're close enough.
When I first discovered my aura, I was ten.
Jacob Manson, a boy from my class, and I were supposed to do some stupid presentation about the forests together that day in the end of third grade. We were walking in the local forest, trying to find some useful information for the presentation. The forest was not big and people visited it often, but it was fourteen o'clock on Wednesday so there was nobody in it. It was chilly since it was November, and both of us were wearing feather jackets.
The path was narrow and we were walking next to each others, our hands brushing. One time when they touched, I felt I jolt of electricity go through my hand. I winced in pain, but did nothing more, attributing it to the physics.
We were talking about school, our presentation and book report we had for that month. Jacob finished talking about his ideas for the presentation after me and we went quiet. I was somehow thinking about Harry Potter and their Care of Magical Creatures classes in a forest like this. All of a sudden, branches around Jacob and I gained foot and started walking. I jolted back in fear, but Jacob stood his ground. The branches fell on the floor again.
"How did you do that?" he asked in surprise.
"Did what?" I asked, confused.
"With the branches. How did you do it?"
"I did not do that."
"Well, it wasn't me," he said, than muttered something under his breath. I tried to make it out, but couldn't. A dark gray light formed around me. I looked at Jacob, even more confused. "What did you do?"
"I summoned your aura," he said, but his mind was somewhere else. "But I didn't expect this colour. It should not be possible."
I remembered what we learned in school about people with auras. Each kind had its unique colour, and each type the variant of that colour.
Controllers, gifted ones with red auras, control one of the elements or more of them. Green ones are chameleons, and they were able to become invisible or turn into someone else. Some of them are able to copy voices or personalities. Gifted people with blue auras are memory carriers, they can mess with your head and delete your memories or replace them. They take the memories for themselves and they can give it to someone else. Shapeshifters have turquoise auras, and, just like their name says, they shift shapes in anything they want. Yellow ones are imaginators and they can make people see what they want them to see. Pink auras represent healers, whom can heal and fix anything. People with purple auras can talk to animals, and sometimes, if they are powerful enough, turn into a one. Influencers have orange auras and they can influence anything to become something else they want. They can make stones and branches walk and cats have fins. I didn't know it then, but Jacob is an influencer.
But there was no mention of gray, white or black. Or golden and silver for that matter. I found about them later on. "Gray aura doesn't exist, does it?"
"It does exist now, and it did long before," he said slowly. "But people like you, takers, they mimic others abilities, and they can take others auras. You're more dangerous than memory carriers and controllers."
"What happened to other takers?"
Jacob looked at me, than away in the woods. "They are dead. For around fifty years."
"Where did you found this out?" I asked in shock. This was whole lot of information, but I was ready to take much more in if it meant answers.
"My parents told me."
"It could still be possible. Their families aren't dead, right?" I waited for him to nod before I continued. His nod was slow and hesitant. "They still carry the genes for gray aura, right?"
Jacob nodded. "Well, yes."
I bit my lip. "But my parents don't have auras."
"How do you know? Maybe they are just good at hiding it," Jacob suggested, but he was obviously puzzled.
"I saw yours twice," Jacob seemed surprised and scared at the same time. "When you were tying your shoelaces and when you had your pen writing for you. You weren't careful enough," I explain.
"I was. Or at least I hope I was," he said, his voice cracking. He was on verge on panicking.
"Nobody else saw it, don't worry."
He nodded, tears in his eyes. I thought of hugging him, but he whipped his tears and started walking again. "Let's go. We'll talk about this later."
I start walking after him. "Do white or black auras exist? Or silver and golden?"
"People who had them are dead," he turned towards me again, walking backwards. "That's a good thing though. They were extremely dangerous."
"We are all extremely dangerous but nobody understands it."
Jacob turned his back to me again. "I'm not dangerous," he muttered.
"Jacob, if you wanted, you could kill all of the mankind if just a few days."
"No, I could not. I'm not strong enough."
"You could be."
"My parents don't think so. They don't say it, but I know they think it," Jacob stated bitterly.
"I know that you could be powerful," I said. "And you will be."
I thought he was going to say something, but he just kept on walking and I followed him.
And that's how Jacob and I became friends. We were friends for couple of years, but somewhere before seventh grade, we fell apart. I talked to him few times after that, but he felt... distant. I don't know what happened, but I decided that, if he didn't want to be friends, I wouldn't want to be friends either. I tried faking anger at him, but the truth is, I miss him. He was my best friend for almost four years.
I get up from my bed and take my phone. I think about sending Jacob a message, but I don't. We aren't friends. Instead, I scroll through Instagram, deciding to search for the name Caleb Miller. He was my childhood best friend, but he moved away when we were seven and I never heard of him after that. I decided to try to change that.
There are three Caleb Miller's, all of whom have private accounts. I follow all three of them, hoping that one of them is my long lost friend. Staring at the screen, I start thinking about school, which starts tomorrow. I don't know if I'm mentally ready to go back there with my head up high. Another school is not an option, nor ever was, because I apparently can handle one more year before secondary school. I will study hard, go to a gymnasium, go to university and make friends I don't have here in primary school. Not anymore.
The worst thing? Carla was my friend. Not as good as Jacob, but a good friend. She and I were friends since day one of school, but she still accused me of copying and following her last March. That wouldn't be to big problem if we solved it alone, but she did it in front of whole class and our English teacher. I should have seen it coming, but that week, I was so caught up in my mind I didn't notice that the storm was coming.
I remember the shock on teacher's face, the forming tears in my eyes, my hands shaking and whole class murmuring and whispering. I denied it, but she insisted that I was lying. By that time, I was crying, but nobody cared. They all just looked at us in shock, knowing that we were good friends. It was obvious that she was lying, but nobody said out loud, probably because they were to scared.
Jacob and Max was peacefully watching until than, but decided that it was time to speak. "Carla is lying," he said, loud enough to be heard. "We all know she's lying. We know her and how easily she gets jealous, and we know Sadie and that she's a sweet. She would never stalk anyone, especially not her friend."
"No, I am not!" Carla denied it immediately.
"Yes you are," Max chimed in. "Sadie doesn't have a reason to do so, and you are jealous because she got an invite to the Gymnasium of William Shakespeare."
"You are lying!" Carla yelled. "I am not jealous of a stalker like Sadie."
"You wish," Max said, muttering, "Bitch."
"What did you just call me," Carla was furious, but Max looked calm.
"A bitch."
Others started muttering between themselves, and the teacher saw these was going out of control. "Everyone, quiet down," she shouted.
Carla finally shut her mouth after that, and professor sent me to the toilet to clean my face. I stayed there until I finally calmed down and ready to face the world again.
Later, when I tried to thank Jacob and Max for defending me, on which Jake only shrugged, saying, "It's the truth, and someone had to tell it. That someone happened to be me," and walked off.
Max asked me if I was okay, and when I nodded, he patted my shoulder and followed Jacob. I haven't spoken to Jake since, and I haven't talked to Maximilian much either.
For next couple of days, actually, I didn't talk to anyone in class, and nobody tried to speak to me either. I was more than pleased with that. My mum was mad at me for doing that, even though I explained that I didn't feel like talking to stupid jerks. We had a major fight over it, but dad stopped us from exaggerating and turning it into something bigger.
I decided to talk to Clara after a week. "Why did you do that? We were friends!" I said to her. My gray aura flickered, but, luckily, she didn't notice.
"Yes, we were friends," she admitted. "And I'm sorry, but I thought it was the right thing to do and I still do. You are so perfect, Sadie. A sweet and kind soul," her voice was full of poison and jealousy, "you wouldn't hurt a fly, you are the smartest in class alongside Jacob and Maximilian. You are respected and appreciated, even by people whom hate you. And me?"
"You are smart too," I fire back. "And you are respected and appreciated too, and nobody fucking hates you. Some people fear you, yes, but they don't hate you for who you are or pretend to be," my voice was shaking in anger. "You are kind to people who deserve it and mean to those who deserve it," except for me. You are mean to me and I don't deserve it.
"Look, you lived your perfect life in your perfect world. It's not like that in real life, and someone had to teach you that," Clara spat.
I remembered my social anxiety and all of the people that bullied me. I remembered Henry being jealous of me because I got more attention from time to time because my trauma needed to be tended. I remembered the time when Jacob and Max were my only friends, when Clara and I fought and I fell out with some other friends. I remembered my grandmother saying that I hadn't gotten any other friends because I had messy hair and yellow teeth, which wasn't even true. I remembered the pain of my childhood best friend leaving. And I knew that I had a taste of the real world. It was bitter and I didn't like it. I had to deal with it, but I didn't like it. Not at all.
"You're wrong," I said firmly, "and you know it. You're only trying to make up excuses for being a jealous bitch."
All of a sudden, as I was scrolling through my phone and thinking about returning to school, I had an unpleasant feeling in my chest. Like someone put a rock on it. I am a bit scared of returning to school, but much more, I want to cry. I put my phone aside and try to concentrate on my breathing, but that's a bit hard when you're allergic to mites whom are all over my bed. I take deep breaths, in and out. I stare at the ceiling again, but I don't see the stars. My vision is blurry and I finally start crying.
"Ben, go check on Sadie," my Mum yells out to my Dad.
Soon, he is in my room. I don't want him to be here, but he is. I sit up and he sits next to me, hugging me around my shoulders, my head falling onto his chest. He hugged me the same way after he come home the day Clara's outburst on be and than again after our fight.
"Are you alright?"
"Do I look like I'm alright?" I answer with a question.
"What happened? Who do I need to beat up?"
I chuckle. "Nobody."
"What's up, then?"
"Typical last Sunday before school years starts. My anxiety got better of me and I started crying to get it out," I say, looking down at my hands in my lap.
"If it's because of Clara, she's not worth your time or tears. You have other friends, like Johanna and Sarah."
"It's not just about Clara," I sigh. "I miss Jacob. And Max too, but not that much. At least I see him at fencing practice."
"I always knew that you liked Jacob," he teases.
"What?" I say in surprise, playing the game. Still, a small smile tugs my lips. "No! I don't like him as more than a best friend," I say, saying the truth.
"Really?" Dad teases some more.
"Really!" I smile, but that smile fades soon.
Dad notices that. "It'll be okay," he says. "And remember, if you need it, I'll always be ready to beat someone up," he jokes, and I smile.
"Of course."