Killer by Bastille (feat. F*U*G*Z): "So you want to be free, to live your life the way you wanna be. Will you give if we cry? Will we live or will we die?"
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C H A P T E R 68
"I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart. I am, I am, I am.”
― Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar
Aura feigned sleep as she lounged on the couch, her arms behind her head, her ankles crossed. The blanket that she had been using had long past slid off of her but she hadn’t been bothered to pick it up. She had been floating in between the realm of consciousness for a while, her eyes unblinking as her mind ran, nostalgically flipping through the moments of her life, from trivial to the more life changing ones. She allowed the emotions of the events to wash over her. It was a sort of spiritual event for the young woman.
For the past week, Aura had refused to go back to the penthouse, instead bunking at the Leroux house, busying herself with babysitting Adelaide and Aaron whilst Dev occasionally kept her company, the other Leroux’s ventured in and out of the house, either making plans with their friends or lounging around the house. Carrie only stopped by once to check up on Aura but had altogether kept her distance. Annalise had taken Aura’s job as Mr. Leroux’s full time assistant and when Mr. Leroux was out of the house, Mrs. Leroux answered any questions that Aura might’ve had, mostly reciting tales of the adventures she and Aura’s parents went on.
Aura had heard all kinds of tales of her parents, from when they first met (Mrs. Leroux had set them up), to their wedding disaster (at least there was a happy ending), to all of the people in Mr and Mrs. Leroux’s group of friends having kids and sort of drifting apart, although Aura’s parents and the Leroux’s stayed close up until their death. Aura felt more connected to her family if possible and found herself growing sadder over their absence each night.
After the talk of Aura’s powers and the meaning of her existence, Aura had politely evaded any more conversations of the subject. She wasn’t sure that she wanted to learn more, all that she had ever wanted was to live a normal life with a normal boyfriend and a normal family. Normal had never found its way to Aura though; it had always been kept just out of reach.
“Hola chica, como estas?” (Hi, how are you?)
Aura was snapped back into her body as she sat up, not missing a bit. “Never piqued you for a Hispanic, pero yo soy bien nonetheless.” (But I am good nonetheless)
Christie shrugged, looking comfortable in the recliner across from Aura. “Eh, I have Hispanic roots, nothing too deep. I don’t think you’re telling the truth.”
It was Aura’s turn to shrug as she stretched, relishing in the release of tension from her muscles. The chair that she lay in wasn’t the most comfortable of chairs. She rolled her shoulders as she responded, as nonchalantly as Christie looked. “Despite the circumstances, I consider myself to be quite well actually, y tu?” (and you?)
Which was true but she could also consider herself crazy although she already did. The thought of seeing a therapist stewed on her mind and made her snort every time. That’d send her straight to the asylum for sure.
Christie raised an eyebrow at Aura’s comment, scoffing. “Really? Because if you were quite well, you’d be able to go back to the penthouse and face everyone. You’d be able to deal with this without running away or hiding or whatever you’d like to call it, and you’d be able to get this little fiasco over with. Because let’s face it, everyone’s waiting for the world to either end or get better and shucks for you but you’re the girl for the job.”
Aura’s eyes narrowed in challenge. “And how exactly does everyone know that? For all we know, it could be someone else, anyone who isn’t me.”
Christie rolled her eyes. “Read up on your history, why don’t you. Or at least go back to the penthouse and have a talk with Elisia. Because if you were smart, or at least brave enough to actually face the fact that you are the all-empowering savior, you would know that while there have been many trials and errors to cleanse the world, the only ones who have been known to have the power to actually have the power to do it, were the direct descendants of Aixa herself.”
Not giving Aura the time to refute, Christie stood, fixing the sleeve of her shirt. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I must take my leave,” Then as an afterthought. “Oh and Faye is on her way and she is not very pleased with you,” She snorted. “To say the least.” The woman then saluted, the sly smirk ever-present on her face. “Hasta luego.” (See you later)
And then the woman was gone.