I had finally made it to Donna's house, feeling slightly jittery all the way over. As sweet as Donna seemed, she had that same off feeling that everyone and everything around here seemed to have. I stood in front of her door, studying the dark brown patterns in the glossy wood. Surely this wouldn't be a long visit, so I wouldn't have much to worry about, would I?
I knocked on the door three times, hearing the noise echo through the building. After a few seconds, the door creaked open to reveal the dark wooden inside of the house. The days seemed to grow darker and darker, so despite it not being late into the afternoon, the cloud covered sun would soon be setting. Shadows seemed to be cast over this particular part of town, and the old fashioned rooms were only lit by candles and gas lamps.
"Hello?" I called out, my hands clinging onto the strap of my cross-body bag. I took a few steps past the door, taking in my surroundings. A staircase with deep red carpeting was to my right, and in the center of the room there was a rocking chair and a table covered in sewing supplies. The inside of the house had a vintage smell to it, like the comforting pages of an old library book.
"Donna?" I called for her again, and once more received no response. I took a few steps further into the house, running my fingers across the smooth wooden walls. Although the place gave me a slight case of the chills, it was beautiful and oddly nostalgic. I walked over to the base of the stairs, searching for the mysterious woman, when I noticed a portrait was framed to the right of it. Inside the dark lumber was an oil painting of a woman in black, her lips pulled taut into a smile. She had dark eyes, pale skin, and her hair was pulled into a bun. Beside her was a doll I wished I didn't recognize. Was this Donna? I couldn't quite tell.
A hand gently touched my shoulder, nearly giving me a heart attack as it came into contact with the fabric of my shirt. I quickly spun around, coming face to face with the veiled woman.
"Hello," She greeted. Her voice was hoarse but welcoming, and my fears quickly ceased. I smiled at her, hoping I didn't seem suspicious.
"Donna, I was just looking for you." I said, letting out a half laugh half sigh of relief. I waited for a response but there came none, so I continued. "I've been here for a few months, as you know, and now that I'm sort of used to things I thought it was time that I actually got to know everyone. I've also heard that you make a good cup of tea, so I thought I'd stop by."
Even though I couldn't see her face, I got the feeling that she was smiling. She nodded, and made a motion for me to follow her. Her dress twirled behind her as she walked, leading me down a short hallway into an old kitchen. She pulled a chair out from underneath a small table adorned a white lace table cloth, and immediately walked over to her stove, filling a kettle with water. I sat in the chair, watching her in silence as she turned on the stovetop and began heating the water.
"Are you," She paused. "Adjusting well?" Her voice was awfully quiet, and she seemed to be carefully choosing her words.
"I supposed you could say that." I tell her, feeling the need to be mindful of my words as well. "Things are different from how I remember them- when I was a kid, that is. I've been adapting though, so things aren't too bad. At least not until winter." I laugh awkwardly. She nods, opening a cupboard and pulling out a glass jar with a few tea bags in the bottom of it. She pulls out two, placing them each into a mug.
"And your mutation? I see you still have bandages on your arms." She points out, still facing the counter. I fidget in my chair for a moment, trying to feel a little more comfortable. I don't really notice as I run my finger over the lines in the bandages, a little I habit I'd developed over the past few weeks.
"It's getting there. Controlling it isn't the easiest, but I'm figuring things out." The room goes silent, only to be filled by the sound of hot water being poured into gray ceramic mugs. Donna puts a cube of sugar in each, stirring it around a few times before brining the drinks over to the table. She hands me one before sitting down in the chair across from me, her hands folded neatly in her lap.
I've got so many thoughts running through my head at what feels like a million miles an hour, and I can't help but let my questions get the best of me. I look up at her, wetting my lips as I struggle to form a normal sentence.
"How do you control it?" I ask her suddenly. She tilts her head at me, not understanding what I mean. "Mutations. I feel like I'm so close to figuring it out, Donna, but I'm just not there yet."
She stiffens, and I worry I'm asking her the wrong questions. Before she says anything, she grabs her cup of tea and lifts it up to her veil.
"That's..." She pauses. "A difficult question to answer."
She lifts her veil, not all the way, but enough for her to blow on her tea. She takes a sip, and in that moment I see enough of her face to notice all the scarring on one side. I look away, not wanting to intrude on her privacy, and I can feel my face heat up a bit.
"Everyone's mutation is... different." She says. "But everyone is driven by something, has a purpose for being here."
She sets her tea down, and once more her face is covered. She folds her hands in her lap again, but this time leans in closer to me.
"If you want to avoid spiraling out of control, focus on yourself. Your... consciousness. Ground yourself, notice your surroundings. That... is the best advice I can give." She says, taking pauses as she talks, as if speaking is strenuous for her. I nod, and lean back into my chair. I grab my own tea, which smells like honey, roses and lilac, and I quickly find it tastes the same.
"Thank you," I tell her. "For the advice and the tea."
She lets out a small, "Of course!", and we sit in a comfortable silence. She's nicer than I remember, and her quietness doesn't bother me. The tea reminds me of Jack.
________
"That's all?" Heisenberg asks.
"You know she doesn't talk much, and at least I was able to get something out of her." I say, almost feeling the need to defend Donna. A day had gone by since I'd gone to see her, and I was back at the factory telling Heisenberg everything I'd heard.
"I just expected something, anything about Miranda. Those freaks are such ass-kissers I could've sworn she was all they thought about." He groans, leaning back onto his desk with his arms folded. I roll my eyes.
"Well she was able to give me better advice on my mutation than you have old man, so unless you can top that I'd say I was pretty successful." I tell him, crossing my arms mockingly.
"I don't believe a single thing any of those lunatics say." He says, suddenly standing and quickly walking over to the door leading out of the factory.
"Wait, where are you going?"
"Don't you want to put that advice to the test?" He asks, looking at me from over his glasses. I'm slightly baffled, but I walk over to him, almost feeling a little defeated. He smirks and holds the door open for me. "Ladies first."
My heart skips a beat. Like usual, his arrogance leaves me at a loss for words.
The walk to our usual clearing in the forest isn't long, and I fiddle with my bandages the whole way there. I always get nervous before training, I can't help it. Part of it could be the fact that I always wake up sore the next day, but I think it's mostly because I find myself hoping for some sort of progress. I'm always hoping that the next day is the day I'll finally figure things out. Finally, I'll be in control myself. I'll be one step closer to getting my life back.
Now I'm sitting in the grass, trying to control the rushed beat of my heart. I'd just taken the bandages off my arms, exposing the eyes sticking out of my flesh, and I can already feel the skin around them begin to grow hot. My head and my teeth start to ache, and I can't help but groan, squeezing my head in between the palms of my hands.
"Alright kid, you know the drill, get up." Heisenberg coaches me, stern but encouraging. With some struggle I'm able to get to my feet. I stumble, but quickly steady myself.
My face burns. Crawling sensations go down my spine. I've done this a million times before and it never gets better. I can feel the bones in my fingers extending up through my nails into claws. I can feel every inch of my body and I hate it.
"Focus on your surroundings, guard dog!" He calls out. His voice is starting to sound fuzzy, but I can still hear him.
That's right. I forgot about Donna's advice. I try slowing my breathing, focusing on the gentle breeze in my hair. I'm in a grassy field surrounded by spruce trees, clouds covering the gray sky above my head. I wince, sharp pain shooting through my spine and deep in my stomach. It's hard to breathe.
That familiar black liquid is dripping down my face and arms again, but this time I don't pass out. For once I'm awake. It's not much, but progress is progress.
"Talk to me, kid," Heisenberg says, a little bit closer to me now. I've got enough control over my body for me to be able to look up at him. He's bent over to my eye level, lips curled into a serious frown.
"I'm trying, asshole." I managed choke out through anguished breaths. He grins, standing back up to full height and taking a few steps back.
"Why don't we see if you can actually land a hit on me this time?"
I straighten my back and widen my stance, wobbling a little bit but stay mostly stable.
"You wi-"
My head suddenly started to spin, and before I could even take a step, my eyes closed and I hit the ground.