Twisted (Editing)

Chapter 27

When I came down for breakfast the next morning, Jonah wasn't there. I looked down at my plate of breakfast and at his. Nearly identical. The Luna wasn't here, so perhaps the cook made it. I switched the plates. If he consumed the potion would be more of the same from him. But I couldn't dare be trapped under it today, all my plans would unravel. If everything went well, I would come across Nia and Iris again and ask them how the supply was going. And if let the feelings of her darling baby boy take precedent again, I was in trouble. Jonah lumbered down the stairs, hair mused, shadows under his eyes. We locked eyes and this time instead of a mask, I read guilt. The look disappeared quickly, still, it was enough to convince me of yesterday.

"Feeling better?" He asked.

"Much." I knew he was banking on my naivety. I mean, why would I know what types of potions witches had? I finished my breakfast quickly and moved into the living room to watch the news.

Jonah's parents never let me near the T.V screen. But they weren't there right then and I couldn't sit around pondering where'd they gone. So with the volume low, I turned on the news.

I smiled at the sight I saw. With the 24-hour news cycle, I thought the story of my kidnapping might have been brushed aside. Yet the firestorm continued. Another clip of my crying mother was played. "Please, we just want our baby girl back." If I would go back to them, I wasn't sure. They could've killed me with their nature potion making. Chemist they were, but not witches. The tiniest amount of imbalance in the materials could've ended my life and that's not something I can forgive them for. But escape here? That's not something I have to think about.

Not only was there a growing military presence outside the town, there were protesters. Many of them, holding picket signs and posters. "No occultist in our state." and "Let her go and go away, no cults in the USA." The news reporter kept talking and the video on the screen changed to one of the human side of town being evacuated following the first military scuffle. Families packed into cars, bringing what they could and leaving their homes behind. A woman stopped in front of a teen girl with flaming red hair talking to another with brown skin and long black hair. Liz and Yasmine. My friends. Sorrow bloomed in my heart. A microphone was thrust in their faces.

"We're told that you were friends with the young woman taken. Tell us how you've been dealing with this experience." Though Liz had makeup on like she always did, it was hastily applied and the shadows of bags under her eyes still showed through. It had been a stressful time for everyone.

Yasmine spoke first. "We miss her and we want her home. Her parents were nice people and she was a great friend. She was lots of fun and she had a smile that lit up the room. We're telling the family that's keeping her under bondage to let her go, please."

"It was reported that among her kidnappers is one of your classmates, who since he is a minor, his name cannot be disclosed. Still, did you see any of this coming?

Liz took the mic. "At first no. He stayed within his circle of friends and we stayed within ours. He hated us like seemed to hate everyone. He was cold, reserved and should you speak to him he was rude. And then they were partnered up in class. Imani is a sweet girl, a kind person who showed almost everyone affection. I'm sure a hateful, depraved person like him could confuse that general affection for something deeper."

"We hear that you were witness to his growing obsession as you describe it. Tell us more."

She gulped and looked around. Yasmine put a hand on her shoulder and Liz took a deep breath. Tears clung to my lashes, blurring my view of the screen. I wiped them off. "We were on the school's camping trip. In Evansville, each high school class goes on a camping trip and we're left pretty much to our own devices. Should we ever get too hungry, teachers would intervene, but the point was to be able to trust your group partners and to cooperate even in the hardest of times. Imani was in my group, but she got sick while I was berry picking. When I came back, his friends were surrounding her and he was crushing her into his arms. His friends blocked my path to her as she begged for help. He told me that it wasn't any of my business and his friends pushed me back again. When I finally got to her, her head was burning and she looked at the point of death. That's when I thought, something is really wrong with that kid."

"How did Imani react to this the next time she saw you?"

Yasmine took the mic back. "She told us it was an allergic reaction. Someone swapped her toothpaste during the trip. I don't know if it was a mistake of a prank. When she got back to school, she didn't remember much of what happened, only bits and pieces. I wouldn't either if I was in a feverish haze."

The reporter checked her watch. "Anything else you want to add before w go to break?"

"Yes." Yasmine faced the camera as if looking into the eyes of the viewers, in my eyes. "To the boy that took her. She is not yours, she doesn't love you and you need to return her to her parents where she belongs. You're sick, your family is sick and I hope you get what's coming to you." She was breathing heavy with rage by the end of her words. Liz patted her back and led her away off-screen. My hands trembled and my cheeks were wet with a trail of tears.

The reporter turned to look at the camera. "Should you come across this part of the state while driving, always take the detour. Officials advise you to stay out of a twenty-mile radius to the town, but only ten miles is enforced. These people are heavily armed and its best to stay clear of this part of the state should you be able to. Next up, two police officers wake up critically injured and confused after being sent to look for Imani Walker. Watch that at six."

I was engrossed in the stories, the people, the faces. The T.V went dark and I snapped my head around. Jonah stood at the back of the room. "How long have you been here?"

"Long enough. You're not supposed to watch that?"

"Am I a child that needs to be told what I can and cannot watch? We're nearly the same age."

"You know those people don't know the true story. What's the point of watching it?"

I scratched at my hands. "To see the face of my friends and my parents. I miss them greatly and this is the only thing I have left to connect me to them."

He sighed. "Once this is cleared up-"

"Don't repeat that to me. I have no interest in hearing any excuses."

He pressed his lips together. "It's the truth. Once this is cleared up, and our witches have a solution, everything will go back to normal. People will come back to their homes, you'll go back to school. It's only a matter of time now."

"Will I go back to my home? To my parents?" I said this even though I had no real intention of going back there. But it was to the same point. Would I be allowed to leave this house?

"You know the answer to that."

"Yeah, but it never hurts to try right? That's all I have these days." I stood up, my legs stiff from sitting crisscrossed and walked past him.

"It'll get easier," he said as I walked past.

"Sure."

"I'm going to a meeting with my soldiers. Lara's out with friends and my parents are busy doing official functions. The servants have a day off too."

"I'm alone today."

He winced. "I know. Don't do anything stupid that'll hurt you more then it'll help you. Please just simmer down, if only for today. If you want, watch the news, but don't do anything reckless."

"I won't."

"Promise me."

"I promise." I climbed the stairs to my room as he left and shut the door behind him. I raced to shower and change into day clothes. I looked out the window. He was gone. Reckless, I snorted at that. By whose definition?