thelibraryharlot
It starts quietly and builds, slowly doubling and tripling, growing unstoppably in her chest. What was a soft, ladylike grief is now overwhelming in its incessant rockstar clamor. A cloud of gold glitter and crashing cymbals, a rush of heady smoke and rushing voices take over and she's lost in it. The simplicity of her bedroom vanishes. She's in a crowded room, hot sticky bodies pressed against her to every side. Bass pulses in her ears, rocking her body and heart in its pounding crush.
If I didn't know what I was doing before, I certainly don't now.
I wandered down the street, idly wondering if I should knock at any doors or shuttered windows, but no light came from the cracks under or around them. Indeed, it seemed like I was the only person alive in the world--a world that now consisted of nothing but this long, orange-lit street with it's countless doors and never-ending buildings.
There were no alleyways, no parked cars. Just the smooth, dark asphalt of the street that gently sloped up to become a sidewalk on either side. There were no sounds, save the click click click of my heels as I walked, looking for the end to the street. When I looked behind me, there was nothing but more buildings, stretching behind me unendingly.
My feet began to ache. I yanked the shoes off and threw them, one striking with a clack against a set of closed green shutters, the other clattering off an empty metal garbage bin.
I walked on. The asphalt was warm against the soles of my feet.
"Please, PLEASE stop snapping your gum, Bee. It's driving me up a goddamn wall." Anna crossed her arms over her chest and slouched down further in her chair.
I discretely spit my gum into my napkin and folded it, tucking it under the edge of my plate.
This is my noble quest, my heroic epic story--to go chasing across the world after a reckless runaway. I'm only a secondary character in my own book. I'm, at best, her deus ex machina. At worst, I'm a forgotten left-at-home family member. The mother to Wendy and the boys, left staring out the window, hoping for their return and glaring at the nightlights who neglected their duty.
I hate her for leaving me, for never listening, but I can't really hold it against her. Everyone is entitled to their own adventure and my warnings are so easily dismissed as jealousy and over-protectiveness.
But I love my baby sister.
I will bring her home.
Struggling to hold Joss upright, Gwen squatted in the wagon. It jolted over cobblestones and her eyes flicked around the enclosed space. Gods, but it smelled awful in here, she wished she could pinch her nose shut.
Oh SHIT.
The figure, lean and shining in golden armor, was now easy to identify. God dammit, Anna. I can't let you out of my sight for one minute, can I? If you had told me a year ago that I would be trying to find a way to get her out of a stadium under the nose of thousands of cheering spectators who wanted to watch her be torn apart by lions, I... well, actually, I doubt I'd be surprised.
There was a sharp crack as her hand met his cheek. "How DARE you say that to me?" she hissed. "You have no idea what I've been through in the last few--"
"Last few what, Gwen? Last few weeks? Do you have any concept of what the last few years have been? You took some sort of magical dimensional shortcut and have no concept of what the rest of us have had to endure, all while thinking..." He rubbed his hand over his face and looked away. His voice was soft when he continued. "All while thinking you were dead."
She yanked at her ear, trying to avoid pulling on the jewelry itself. Gods but it itched. Oh if her father could see her now.
But it was for the best. Better to blend in down here; better to not draw attention to herself and her newfound... abilities. So she screwed her eyes shut and nodded to the woman with the needle. Only four more to go.