Kapitel 13: Chapter 13: The Crying And The Yelling Stuff

Someone had to switch on the light. I found the sudden brightness oddly offensive. And, what's worse, the slender thread holding us snapped and I shivered in my robe, empty and cold. It bothered me I could get so wrapped up in the illusion of candlelight. When it broke and reality came back it was always disappointing to find myself in an ordinary basement.

Not that the magic was a sham, quite the opposite. In fact, it was way too real for me, always had been. Ever since I could remember I resisted who and what I was. Moments like the one I just shared gave me the creeps, even if they felt good at the time. What was I thinking? Normal. The ultimate goal was to be normal. My parents might be able to force me to do this song and dance for a couple more years, but eighteen here I come.

I winced as one of the men stumbled against a cardboard box marked "China." A soft tinkle whispered of something delicate shattering. I guess it was fitting.

The crowd dissolved into a group of 'just folks', shedding their robes, revealing jeans and business suits underneath, as conversation started.

"...had a chance to try out the new babysitter? She's a pet..."

"...was sure the boys would pull their socks up this year, but so far they're still at the bottom of the league..."

"...love your new shoes! What's the name of the store..."

It amazed me they could simply shrug off the residue of power, the huge and scary stuff we did, and go back to an 'ordinary' life without even a hint of the truth showing through.

I, on the other hand, was terrible at it, like most everything else in my screwed up life. It seemed like after every ceremony I attended it took me a couple of days to stop dropping bits of magic here and there. Nothing major or the coven would take steps, but enough to reinforce my absolute resolve to get out of this crazy life forever.

I shucked out of my robe with relief. The only things keeping me from leaving it in an unruly puddle on the floor were my mother's eagle eyes and her crooked finger summoning me closer. I was so tempted to do it, to see what would happen, what she would do, say, to piss her off. I was in that kind of headspace, a mother-baiting mood usually starting so innocently and ending in punishment and tears. But, instead, to keep my father happy, I slouched toward them as Mom addressed the crowd.

"Snacks in the kitchen. Erica, will you open the wine, please?"

Erica Plower, my mom's best friend and second, waved as she left, shiny blonde bob swinging. I ignored the pointed glare she shot at me before leaving, knowing I would have her smart comments to deal with later. At least Mom had a good friend, but because Erica knew us all so well sometimes it felt like I had two mothers.

Personally, I figured the one I had was more than enough.

The crowd followed Erica, moving to the stairs, talk getting louder as the real world finally took over and the hungry horde made its way out of the basement. Gram, her ears perked by the mention of food, dashed from my side before I could stop her and pushed her way through the rest of the crowd. She disappeared through the door and I heard her badgering Erica for chocolate. Meanwhile, Mom slipped her arm around my shoulders and hugged me a little harder than necessary as she smiled at the exiting group. No escape for me. Meira hovered near Dad, as if she knew something was coming but was too young to realize it would probably dissolve into a mess she shouldn't witness.

In fact, from the expression on Mom's face I was sure Meira should leave before we tore into it. But as I drew a breath to make that very suggestion, the last of the coven vanished up the stairs and Mom turned me bodily toward her, a frown creasing her perfect face.

"Thank you for your enthusiastic participation, young lady." She tried very hard to be stern, but my mom didn't do stern very well. It came across as huffy.

"You're welcome."

Her eyes flashed fire, normal Mom fire, not the magic stuff. Dad chuckled. She spun on him. He held up his hands for protection.

"Miriam," he started.

"Harry!" She finished.

It dissolved into them sweetly gazing at each other. Would my time in family hell never end?

"Can I go?" I glared back and forth between them. "I have homework."

Mom crossed her arms over her chest.

"You would think you didn't want to see your father, Sydlynn."

"Mom... "

"Of course she does," Dad said, "don't you, Syd?"

"I love seeing you, Dad." I really meant it.

Mom softened a little, but I knew the dangerous stuff was still to come. The crying and yelling stuff. To be honest, it was getting to the point where I hardly listened anymore. The same old, same old. And yet, there was obviously more ammunition on the way. I braced myself for the guilt trip and held on.

"This ceremony is very important to the family. You know that."

"Yes, Mother." She hated it when I called her Mother. What was wrong with me? I was only making things worse for myself, prolonging my grief. I zipped up and hoped she'd give me a pass.

She glared as I shifted from one foot to the other, the cloak getting heavier and hotter in my arms, hoping the expression on my face radiated innocence.

No such luck.

"And yet again, you have this... attitude."

I gritted my teeth and tried to keep a calm expression. More attitude would make her crazy and I'd end up grounded or a frog or something.

Unfortunately, my brain and my mouth had a miscommunication.

"Yeah, Mom," I said. "It's called 'I don't give a crap.'"

Mom's face crumpled. Oh damn, the waterworks. My mother was a freaking supernatural faucet.

She reached out and brushed her fingertips over my cheek. "You have been fighting your power your whole life. Would it hurt you to participate just once? We're your family, honey."

"We've had this conversation." I tried to keep my voice low and rational and succeeded not badly. "You know I don't want to be a witch. If you would let me give up my powers now instead of making me wait until I'm eighteen, you wouldn't have to worry about it anymore."

Mom's eyes brimmed. "So this is my fault? I'm a terrible mother for bringing you into the world, for cursing you to be a witch and not letting you go?"

"Oh, for... seriously, Mom, this is getting so old." The drama was far too familiar and wore me thin. I tried to take a step back, but her power caught and held me. No way! I struggled against her, furious.

"Let go!"

"How can I let you go?" She cried, tears coursing in elegant lines down her face. How could she be so perfect in everything, even crying? My anger cranked up a notch.

"If you really loved me, you would."

Mom looked like I slapped her. I'd never used that line before and wished I could take it back, especially since Dad's expression matched my mom's. As a matter of fact, so did Meira's.

"Miriam, Syd, I think that's enough." Dad slid an arm around Mom while my sister leaned into his free side. Talk about a united front. I felt like a huge wall stood between them and me and knew I was as responsible for its construction as they were.

Mom cried openly. For the first time she was a real person in real pain. I felt like crap, but I was determined to keep the ground I gained. This was my chance to cut myself free.

"Is it really that horrible?" Mom's eyes were red rimmed. I'd pay for that. "Being what we are?"

"I don't want to be what you are," I said, voice barely registering calm. Barely.

"Why not?" Mom's confusion was genuine. I knew that.

I had two choices. I could go easy on her and lie about how I really felt like I always did. Or, I could open my big mouth and say the exactly the wrong thing, purposely breaking her heart.

Guess which one I picked.

"I don't want to be a monster!"

I thought Mom was stunned before. Dad reached for me, but dropped his hand. Meira started to cry.

"Syd," Dad whispered, "whatever gave you the impression you were a monster?"

Was he serious? Had he looked in the mirror lately?

"Dad," I stretched out the word, trying to add weight to it, to make him understand. "You are a demon. Exactly where is the descriptive confusion here?"

Dad didn't answer. He didn't have to. I was on a bridge-burning roll, uh-huh. Might as well finish the demolition and ride the flames like a cleansing pyre.

"I hate what we can do. I hate the way it feels and I want out! Why can't you understand that?"

I totally lost my temper. Bad to worse in a mere instant. Why did Mom have to pick right then to challenge me? Why couldn't she let it go like she always did? I wasn't prepared for this conversation, especially not with her. It would have been easier with just my dad and me. I could have made him understand. But my mom and I knew each other's buttons and which ones were atomic.

Case in point.

Dad gave me the Father face, the angry Father face. I knew I finally found his button, too.

"I want you to apologize to your mother, young lady. This is hard enough on her as it is."

Hard on my mother? Hard on my mother?! I am embarrassed to admit I suddenly and completely lost it. I dropped my robe on the floor in front of them with deliberate determination and crossed my arms over my chest.

"You have me until I'm eighteen. You know what happens then. You've always known. When the choice is mine, I'm done with magic, once and for all. If that means I'm done with you too, I guess that's the way it has to be. End of story."

I turned and walked away. I actually walked away. When I hit the bottom step, my heart felt like it was breaking, but I would not give in. Would not. I stopped at the bottom of the stairs, breathing a little heavy, not wanting to look back, knowing this conversation always ended with my mom crying and my dad upset. And worse, this time, because I finally told the truth. But I did turn back, if only for one reason. Dad, his power to remain with us almost used up, would be leaving soon, and I wanted to at least let him know I wasn't angry with him.

"Nice to see you, Dad," I said and left.

***

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