Questions without answers
307 Words
Aeris barely spoke as Lyria dragged her through the school hallways, steering her straight into the empty library.
The moment the door shut behind them, Lyria whirled around, arms crossed. “Alright. Spill.”
Aeris blinked. “Spill what?”
Lyria scoffed. “Don’t play dumb. You threw Camille like she was a rag doll, and I know you don’t bench-press cars in your free time. So, what the hell was that?”
Aeris swallowed hard. “It was… an accident.”
Lyria arched a brow. “Accidents are tripping over your own feet. That—” she pointed dramatically toward the gym, “—was not an accident.”
Aeris hesitated, her fingers tightening around the hem of her sweater. “I don’t know how it happened, okay? I just… reacted, and then she was on the floor.”
Lyria studied her for a long moment, then sighed, plopping down into one of the chairs. “Alright. Let’s say I believe you don’t know. That still doesn’t explain how you did it.”
Aeris wished she had an answer. She had felt something before Camille went flying—like a surge of energy rushing through her veins, waking up something she didn’t understand. And it wasn’t the first time.
The whispers. The strange dreams. The mark on her wrist.
It was all connected.
She just didn’t know how.
Lyria leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “You know, if you suddenly tell me you’re secretly a superhero, I won’t judge. Actually, I’d be pretty jealous.”
Aeris let out a breathy laugh, but it died quickly. “I’m not a superhero, Lyria.”
Lyria tilted her head. “Then what are you?”
The question hit Aeris harder than it should have.
Because the truth was—she didn’t know.
And that terrified her.
- Writer
