Scars - Pigeon (redone)

796 Words
A/N: Sorry that this one is short, I just couldn’t think of much more to add to it. *********************     The woman finally stood back from explaining her secret, our secret now, rocking back on her heels before standing. While she appeared energized and excited, I was exhausted. My whole body hurt like it did after Carter crashed his bike and I fell off the basket. I’d had bruises all over my body for weeks. It felt like I should now, with whatever magick she had placed in the necklace beginning to absorb into me.     Or whatever was happening. I was still half-convinced that this was all a dream.     “Licet motus.” She muttered, picking up the bloody knife. I felt light, as though my body was full of helium. I didn't dare to move again, even though the spell she had placed on me was gone. The small voice in my head that came and went kept whispering to me to keep still.     There was blood on my rug. The red looked so... violent against the white. The woman's eyes followed the line of mine and saw it. Her eyes jumped around, so I could only assume that there were more spots. Reaching into her pockets, she pulled out a small purple vial and poured a slime-like mixture onto the stain. It moved to cover the entire mark before taking on a pink shade. Before five seconds had passed the slime removed the blood and left my rug the pure white it had been.      Leaving the slime there, she moved around me and poured more on the other stains. While she walked around, the one beside me hardened into a purple-red stone. Continuing to lie still, the woman came back around and picked up the stones, saying "There all clean. Why don' you try getting up? I'm sure that the floor isn't very comfortable.." Walking across the room, she blew out her candle and placed the strangely tinted bricks into her bag with the candle, bowls, and knife.      Turning to face me, she laughed as I pushed myself up onto my elbows, my shaking arms collapsing under me as blood rushed in my ears. After a minute, I slowly sat up, pushing against the floor with my arms and crawling to my dresser. Leaning against it on shaky legs, I reached for the necklace she’d placed on me.     Looking into the mirror, I first noticed that I looked like Hell. My face was patchy and red, and my skin was too pale, well, paler than usual. Dark circles under my eyes gave away my pain and tiredness. Fingers dancing down the thick chain now laying on my neck, I brushed against the cool stone.      In the now normal moonlight, I could see that it was very expensive looking. The gem was cut into a thick crescent, as though it had been shaved from a sphere. It had changed from its original smoky white to the same color as the blood it had been dipped into, and the metal was woven around it, creating a protective cage. Looking at the nearly reflective scars on my palms, I could tell that they matched the shape of the necklace.     Coming up behind me, she placed an icy hand on my shoulder and spoke softly to me while staring at her own pale features. I met her eyes in the mirror, hoping I looked angry and not tired. “You need to sleep. The magick will settle into your body over the next few days, but you will be very sick until it stabilizes within you. By the third moon, you will begin to feel better, the spell having solidified.”     I stared at her in the mirror, struck again by how much she looked like Mom. But her eyes looked like the night come to life, whereas I’d gotten Mom’s mixed hazel eyes. Her hair was also a dusty bronze, not the dark brown-black of mine. She was quiet for a minute, before asking if I needed help getting into bed. I shook my head stiffly, the necklace's weight affecting my neck, shooting pains up and down the muscles. Biting my lip, I ducked under her arm and slowly climbed into bed, aware of how my muscles ached in protest.     She walked from my room, leaving me alone in the dark, and as she left I could only think of one thing. Please let this be a nightmare.     My eyes slid closed and I rolled onto my side, facing the wall. Before I knew it, I was dreaming about Mom, the similarities in appearance drawing the old memories out from the dark I tried to keep them in.
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