Chapter Seven

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The past weeks had left El in constant anxiety. Every day was a gamble. Would they find Brenner? Or would Brenner find Sarah?

She never knew, and her powers could only help so much.

After some time trying to fix a difficult relationship, trying to fix it for their daughter, El and Mike's marriage began to do a balancing act.

But the rope was on fire from both ends, and there was no water. And slowly the rope was getting thinner and thinner until ultimately it would just--

Snap.

Until ultimately it would snap. Sending them through the air at a high speed, killing them on impact then or when they fell from the rope.

Now that Sarah was being trained with powers, El was waiting anxiously for Brenner to find her. She was waiting with baited breath, until that night.

Mike was working the night shift, leaving El alone in that old house. The place was cheap, and the heat didn't work.

Even if it was summertime, Illinois got frigid at night, or at least, the home did. Normally, at all times of year, she'd need Mike to keep her warm.

A spoon was wading through a bowl of cold Alphagetti. El didn't want to cook for herself, nor could they properly afford good food right now. They both worked jobs with shit pay.

She was spacing out, staring off into the mucky green coloured wall. Thinking. Thinking about her daughter, about the life she was making for herself.

The soup was left after a couple bites, and El went to the washroom, scrutinizing the woman staring back at her.

She remembered how she looked when Sarah was born, and tried to imagine how she might look now had she not been forced to leave her.

She had a few strands of gray coming in, which, if we're being honest, she would've had anyways. But this wasn't how she pictured her thirties.

She imagined a life on Maple Street. Her dream would be one, maybe two, more children. Children who went to school. She imagined being a kind mother, always there for her children.

She closed her eyes and began to think of this house like their suburban home. Where the food supply was plentiful and they weren't surviving by the skin of their teeth for the past 12 years.

12 years.

12 years.

It had been 12 years of constant struggle. Constant anguish and anxiety. Longing to know their daughter. Longing to show her all their music, their songs.

Longing to give her a life where she was fully content. A life that El never got.

She dreamed of giving her children everything they wanted, because out of everything she wanted and got, she only remained with one. Her husband.

She got everything she wanted, and because of her past-- because of her, it was whisked away in a blur.

All because of her past circumstances, most of which led her to lose practically everything.

She opened her eyes again. Staring back at her was her reflection. But it wasn't her. It was a tired woman. But just as a reassurance, she still pictured herself as the teen, climbing to Weathertop with her friends.

She looked at her pale complexion, admiring the purple bags taking residence under her eyes.

Tiredly, she decided to get some rest, even if it were just hitting 9:00.

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