Caiden hoped her school days would've gotten easier to get through or at least more comfortable, but they hadn't. Not even close.
Being constantly in a state of anger, sadness, or on edge was all that she got from her peers. She understood that this was normal, considering the time of life they were all in, but none of them had to feel all of that every day all at once. They didn't have to get used to it. Which was why she couldn't wait until the bell rang for her to go home. At least there, if Iela or Roxa's emotions got too much for her, she could just go to her room.
The bell rang for lunch and Caiden was about to follow the traffic when she felt that pull again. She looked around for that familiar energy, but couldn't find him yet. He was near though. At that point, the searching and the need to be with this total stranger was getting ridiculous.
Who was this guy?
She stood in the middle of the hall as it began to empty, but Timothy was nowhere in sight. Caiden caught herself as she felt something nudge her arm. She spun around.
"I'm gonna brave the free fare today. What about you?"
Aza was holding one of those vintage pail lunchboxes. It was lolita-themed and orange with a few shiny scratches on the bottom corners where the paint had come off.
"Bacon turkey wrap," he said, smiling and admiring what seemed to be a collector's item.
"Aza, right?" she said, distracted. She knew that was his name, she had no idea why she posed it as a question.
Timothy's energy was still in the vicinity, but she didn't know how long he would be there.
"That's right. Caiden."
Again with her name.
She wondered what he was trying to do to her or even if he was aware of what he was doing. Awkwardness arrived and a few clunky seconds of silence sat wedged in between them. Aza was usually more conversational than this, but he found himself losing natural word flow when he spoke to Caiden. He was more focused on not saying the wrong thing. And not saying something that would get him into trouble.
"I'm sorry," she said, which seemed to be her knee-jerk response to everything bad that happened. "About before, I mean. And now. I have to go."
He noticed her eyes wandering. "You're forgiven both times." He gently swung the lunchbox by the handle. "I'll keep this for myself if things go south."
"I'm gonna go to the restroom," she said, forever penitent, and turned down a hall.
A few stragglers were gradually finishing up in their lockers. All, but three boys. One's attention was split between his friend's raunchy jokes and his phone. The other two were intent on playing with Timothy. It seemed he knew them or he used to.
Caiden was standing by the lockers, not too far away, but she could tell Timothy looked different from the very first time she saw him. The bags under his eyes were heavier, his dark circles were more prominent, and his gait had slumped to where he looked shorter than he really was.
"Aye! It's that boy Tee-Tee. Nigga get hard hearin' his own name," one of them jeered. His expression indicated that he was enjoying every second of this teasing and it was going to get worse.
Timothy didn't have it in him to fight back. "Yeah and you can suck it," he fired, trying to escape into the boys' room.
"Ooh. He mad. Tee-Tee mad," the other boy joined in, laughing and following the leader into the restroom.
Like they were taunting her as well, Caiden began to follow them.
"Caiden?" The Voice called, sounding puzzled.
At that moment she heard shuffling.
"Bitch! Get yo' hands off me!" the first boy yelled.
And she couldn't be stopped. She bum-rushed the door of the boys' restroom and three things happened in just a matter of seconds:
A sword slicing gust of wind was heard.
The lights flickered as if the wiring was faulty.
And Caiden found herself knocking out two of the students and choke-holding the other, all without dropping her briefcase. All without thinking.
Now, they were struggling to catch their breath, trying to figure out what the hell just happened. Caiden was perhaps the most shocked of all. She was a bit astonished at how easy fighting came to her. Not the act itself, because Iela would be remiss in her duties as a mother if she hadn't taught her self-defense, but the fact that she could naturally use these learned skills like they were an innate form of preservation for herself and for others that needed her whenever a situation called for it. Like now.
Timothy needed her.
She looked down and could make him out on the floor, looking lost and bewildered at her and the three boys.
Their eyes locked. He stared at her in confusion and then he stared at his bully, who was considerably taller than Caiden, wrestling against her chokehold.
Then, the lights went out completely.
"Get out. Now."
With The Voice's words echoing in her head, Caiden released the boy and hauled ass out of there. She went straight into the girls' room and dropped her stuff.
She was alone. She could sense it.
Her mind, her eyes, her heart were running ragged.
"Why did I do that?" she said, still not able to breathe steadily.
Adrenaline and that something else, that unfamiliar and foreign something, had invaded her system again. She hurried to the mirror and got lost in her reflection's eyes. They were shooting through the rainbow as they were now beginning to water. She couldn't even blink. Not yet. Not until her eyes told her what happened. They could never lie.
"Why did you do that?" Caiden was staring at herself, waiting for an answer.
"That was far, Caiden. Too far," The Voice said.
She took deep breaths and tried to center herself. When it got as close to regular as she could get it, she picked up her briefcase and walked to the door. She lingered. Her trembling hand went to her chest where her light was pulsing underneath her sweatshirt. Then, she walked out of the door.
Caiden left the girls' room and headed straight towards the cafeteria. Aza had watched her with the boys and could see she was still in the process of calming herself.
Moments later, Timothy came out of the restroom still looking bemused. He scanned the halls for the girl that had just saved him, but like his bullies, she was nowhere to be found.
Aza waited for Timothy to leave before he went into the restroom himself. As the door closed behind him, the lights began flickering again.
***
Iela was in the library of all places, skimming through pages. She wasn't reading, just trying to keep her mind occupied, at which she wasn't doing a very good job. It was clear that she rarely frequented this particular part of the house, but it was the quietest next to the study downstairs. The only reason she wasn't in there now was that she'd just come out of Caiden's room doing her daily inspections. Nothing that required flipping over mattresses or rummaging through drawers, just to make sure she kept it how she left it. Iela knew Roxa couldn't help herself sometimes and would peek inside every now and then.
She heard one of the doors open and saw Roxa come in with an armful of books. She was briefly startled to see her.
"Your daughter is just as messy as you are."
"If you got those out of Caiden's room, you can put them back where you found them."
Roxa rolled her eyes. "You know, for somebody who's barely here, you sho' is sayin' a lot about how to run my house. What are you doin' in here, anyway, of all places?"
"I was waiting for you," Iela said with dry facetiousness.
She eyed Iela as she put the books up in their assigned homes. "What do you want with me?"
Iela's attention went to the books Roxa had and she'd forgotten about what she was initially going to say. Roxa already knew what was coming.
"Those better not be from where I think they're from." Her face had turned hard as she took one of the books out of Roxa's arms.
"They're Caiden's," Roxa defended. "You don't have to worry about the Sisters. They should know better by now."
"Do they?" she asked, knowing full well they hadn't.
They both fixed on each other. If Iela could rid the world of anything, it would be the church. Just the mention of the word or anything known to have a connection with the word cooked her blood to a boil.
"It seems they must've forgot." Roxa continued putting them up. "...Now, they talkin' about some cure..." she said, hesitantly.
She watched Iela out of her peripheral just to see if that got some reaction. Iela watched Roxa as she took her time before making eye contact again.
"You look convinced."
"I'm convinced that they convinced. You know how these southern baptists are. The Word is law, and if you don't originate in the Word, then they make it their duty to fix it to where you do." Roxa swatted the air with her hand. "Heathens. Every last one of 'em."
"So, when are you going down there?" Iela asked, knowing she would sooner or later. Being a Sister was in her DNA whether she wanted to admit it or not.
"I'm not," she said with her nose slightly up in the air.
"Not today," Iela said to herself.
Roxa remained quiet.
"Just let me know when I should drop you off because it will be the last time you see me or Caiden."
"Who the hell you threatenin'?" Roxa turned and rested her knuckles on her wide hips. "They said they have proof. If I do go down there, it'll be to see what poor, pitiful fool they got chained up in they holy water shark tanks."
Iela had been told off by Roxa numerous times, but the response she got back when she mentioned separating her from Caiden was one she never understood.
"There's no way in heaven I'd forgive them for what they did to that girl," Roxa said, now shoving the rest of the books on the shelf.
"Good," Iela said as memories of the past flooded her mind.
She left the library immediately with a glaring Roxa as a parting gift. Iela stood in the dark hall a second as her eyes wandered to her daughter's bedroom. She went up to the door about to go inside but thought better of it.
"Iela..."
She turned and saw light before anything else. Caiden was standing at the top of the stairs with her briefcase handle clutched in both hands. What her heart illuminated and from the lights that were on downstairs, Iela could see that Caiden seemed a little confused as to why she was standing in front of her door. For some reason that made Iela angrier than being caught about to trespass into her daughter's room for the second time.
"Why do you call me that?"
The question caught her off-guard and she didn't answer at first. She wasn't sure of the answer herself.
"I'm sorry."
"That's your answer for everything," she said, walking toward her.
Caiden naturally tensed up and though it was dark, she could tell her mother saw it and she slowed down.
"Roxa's got some more books for you."
Iela felt that was a good way to end this unexpected talk. Caiden moved out of her way and she headed downstairs to her study. Well, it was Roxa's study. It was Willard's before and after he died, Roxa would rarely go in there. It brought up too many memories, so Iela made it her own as soon as they were sure they'd make this place somewhat of a home.
The room was small, like a box, with a desk and a couple filing drawers. A few small lamps were set up on the only flat surfaces. Similar to her and Caiden's bedrooms, the lamp was the only source of light. The study had a window, but like Iela's bedroom, they had been boarded up.
She turned on the lights and went to sit at her desk where she unlocked a drawer.
Iela paused, not sure if she wanted to see what was inside. She transformed into a different woman, almost gentle, but her expression remained unchanged. She pulled out a small box big enough to hold letters, and when she opened it, that's exactly what was inside.
All white. Sealed elegantly with white wax, professional and classic, from an old forgotten time. But there was no return address, just her name written in sloppy cursive on the front. There were about five of them. All were opened.
She looked at them a moment, her eyes sinking from her natural deep auburn to a dark carmine as she skimmed over them, reveling in the words that she could probably recite in her sleep.
Iela calmly closed the box and locked it away again. It took some time for her to pull herself back together, but she did like a slow dimming switch. She stood up, turned off the lights, and left.