After a long string of Alexander's useless ramblings I decide to pipe up, after all, now he's just saying how advanced I am in my powers, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.
"So, where exactly am I on the, you know." I hesitate to say social order, however that's exactly what I mean.
"Social order?" Alexander sighs, "that, I am not aloud to tell you. You see, the parent of the switched says what we can and cannot explain to the switched child." He looks at me sympathetically, as though apologizing.
"What do you mean your not aloud to say? That's a stupid rule. I thought you were supposed to take me back and teach me about the history and blah blah blah boring!" I feel my anger ripple through me like a volcano about to erupt.
Alexander held his hands up as though to stop me from yelling. "Kimberly, please let the knife go." His voice trembles as he speaks, all gentleness in his voice gone. His voice was cold.
"What are you talking about?" I snap, feeling Stiren's hand on my back, "STIREN!"
"Kimberly, seriously, having a knife at my neck is not going to change the situation." Stiren says calmly, retracting his hand.
"I DONT HAVE A KNIFE AT EITHER OF YOUR..." I feel the blood drain from my face when I look at Stiren. Sure enough, there is a knife at his neck only, nothing's holding it. I immediately draw my hands away from him and press myself backwards into the couch. As I pull back, the knife follows my hands motion, a soft gold shimmers between my hand and the knife, as though it was attaching me to the handle. The knife was a cold steely colour with a bone handle.
"Kimberly place your hands on the side table." Alexander says slowly. He moves cautiously towards me, his hands open.
I do as he says and place my hands on the side table to my right, and amazingly, the knife follows suit. The knife lays next to me, a thin trickle of fresh blood trails down the edge of the knife, turning it an ugly copper colour. Again I feel the blood drain out of my face, when I recognize the knife. My panic surges up through my stomach, biting at me, twisting my innards and pulling at them. I feel a sudden wave of nausea wash over me when I see the flakes of old, dry, blood that clings to the knife for everything it has.
"Are you alright Kimberly?" Alexander asks gently, "you look faint, would you like some water?"
"Where did that knife come from?" I say, startled. I look back to the old knife, that ugly copper colour teasing me. And I can't figure out why.
"You conjured it up," Stiren says calmly.
I swallow and nod, barely even able to breath. There is no way that this is one of the knives that... it just doesn't make sense. It can't possibly be. I pick the knife up, my fingertips brushing its edges. The knife my sister stabbed me with, back after all these years.
I turn its tip towards me and feel my heart race. Before I can react, I hear shouts in the kitchen, and a sharp pain in my chest. I look down and find the knife implanted in my chest, just at the right spot, for it to pierce my heart. A shimmer of black, the outline of a hand, disappears as I hear the sound of a single pair of running feet. Before blackness, a hard clattering sound, then nothing.