Chapter 3: Potions and Fiends
1839 Words
Amo woke up as if she was hooked up on the mains as if sleeping had become a dangerous activity. Her heart beats faster than the thoughts racing in her head, as they are as panic with jump-leads. Only now was her body a flat battery, the exertions of the lack of sleep that comes with stress was beginning to overwhelm her. And so today will pass as if she was hungover, not from drink, but from the nightmares that demand solutions.
She slowly woke up from the bed, her eyes scanning through her study desk. School books scattered along with the worn desk, untouched despite the nearing final examination dates. She paid no mind to them, as she went along the rest of her morning routine.
She slowly passed the empty kitchen and the dining room, facing her head away from the messy utensils scattered around. Nothing on the wall except food stains and burns from the attempts she had made to cook something other than her usual omelets. She reminds herself to clean it up tomorrow, knowing quite well that she would never come around to do it. She decided to skip breakfast.
The living room seemed to contrast the rest of her house, spotless and polished. Complete with an untouched TV and tightly shelved books by the TV stand, though no family photos. And they were, her mom and dad sitting leisurely by the couch. Her dad seemed to be reading the newspaper, yet it was from the year 2001. Her mother was perceived, watching the TV.
Amo looked at the clock, just a few seconds before six. She sighed, walking slowly to the front of the couch to look at them. Her mother looked down from the TV to her, smiling softly.
‘Hello honey, what do you want from breakfast?’
5…
‘Nothing mom, I think I’ll skip for today.’
4…
Her father looked up from his newspaper, speaking in a teasing tone, ‘Well that’s not good! You need to eat so you can concentrate in school!’
‘I’ll just get something by Alfamart, dad.’
3…
‘Well okay then honey, I’ll see you after school,’ Her dad replied, looking back into his paper.
‘Don’t forget to take your ticket for the train, sweetie,’ Her mom added.
2…
‘I have to go now.’
‘Goodbye sweetie,’ Her dad replied.
‘Remember to be good honey, goodbye,’ Her mom added.
1…
The two of them slowly turned jet black, their once human silhouette melting into ink-like substance. The fluid slowly seeped into the fabric of the couch, as the rest silently dripped onto the floor.
‘Goodbye,’ Amo whispered back.
It has been a couple of days after the incident, and the Monday sun has not yet surfaced through the city horizon. Amo continues her stroll, paying no mind to the missing dead boy at the corner of the alley.
She could feel her stomach starting to churn at the thought of it, though she quickly blamed it on the lack of breakfast. She didn’t like to think of someone dragging Andrew’s lifeless body in a rice sack, yet she knew deep down that was exactly what had happened sometime in the night.
She continued her journey through the cracked sidewalks, and finally through the bus stop; the distant yet familiar sound of the market people selling “freshly caught” fish and vegetables only made her hungrier. She needs to pick up her pace, then maybe she could get through the school gates before the bell rings. Yes, she needs to hurry indeed, but a certain sound of a familiar rouge haired girl tells her that she needs to do something else.
‘Running a bit late, darling?’
‘I-’
‘Don’t stare too much, you’ll gain attention,’ The rouge haired girl ordered, still somewhat retaining her cheeky tone.
The bus door slowly closes, and the two high school girls quickly hopped inside. The crowd was bustling as usual, not quite suffocating the bus but enough to dissipate any personal space the two girls might have. Inca took note of the situation, then quickly guide them towards a pair of lonely seats in the back of the bus.
‘Why are you here?’ She muttered.
‘Well in case you haven’t noticed, you’re still on house-arrest.’
‘It’s been long enough!’
‘Keep it down, love.’
Amo quickly bit her tongue, realizing the attention they have gained. She waits for a moment, staring at the bus window until all wandering eyes got bored of their sight.
‘They already buried him,’ Amo slowly whispered.
‘That doesn’t change the security upgrades around the province, my dear,’ Inca replied, her head slightly tilted from having to avoid the morning light.
‘At least let me use-’
‘Don’t say the word.’
‘O-okay, but-’
‘Pinot already suggested that you can use it with supervision.’
‘…And?’
‘Well, what does my lovely bunny think the answer was?’
‘…Yes?’
‘Don’t try me.’
Amo couldn’t help but feel hot air forming in her core, as she watched the moving cityscape outside the bus window come into a halt. Inca quickly got up from her seat, having easier access to get out of the bus.
‘We’re here.’
Amo sighed, wasting no time as she steadily followed Inca off the bus. The school was only a few minutes of walk, but the time they had to arrive through the bus had made it impossible for them to be on time.
‘We could run,’ The younger girl suggested.
‘Should we?’
Amo shrugged, as they strolled through the uneven sidewalk. The morning environment around the school had seemed too quiet compared to the heart of the city, despite their school still being inside the city reach. Just a couple of motorcycles and cars heading past them as the sun slowly bloomed above the concrete landscape.
‘How are your parents, dear?’
‘Gone,’ Amo replied.
‘Took long enough.’
‘I was hoping they didn’t have to disappear.’
‘I know, but an illusion spell can only last so long without more supplies.’
Inca hummed, kicking a small pebble off her path. Amo checked her phone, it has been quite a while since she had bought data. She calmly listened to Inca softly singing an old Batak song, watching as spam of messages pop up on her lock screen; most of them from Mandy and Hannah.
‘You have friends?’ The older girl asked, peeking over her phone.
‘Just one,’ Amo replied, skimming through Mandy’s more recent text messages.
‘What about the other kid with the sleek hair?’
‘They were a package deal,’ The girl shrugged.
Inca hummed in interest, her eyes practically glued to the younger girl’s phone screen. She had gained a special interest in a set of text Amo had decided to linger on.
Mandy: Hey are you okay?
Mandy: You seemed down today
Mandy: Do you want me to come to your house?
‘They were from yesterday,’ Inca pointed out.
The cobalt haired girl stayed silent, her hands quickly pressing on the off button and stuffing her phone back in her pocket.
‘She seems genuine,’ The older girl said.
‘She is.’
‘Why won’t you reply?’
‘Don’t want to get attached to anyone.’
‘Worth the effort, no?’
Amo sighed, not having any energy to argue with the rouge haired girl. The two of them made their way to the school gate quietly, making sure to not make any ruckus while they jumped through the creaky metal gate.
‘Sometimes I wonder what they changed whenever they said they’ll be making security changes,’ The younger girl said.
‘That’s just code for: We'll be letting the government go over our security footages,’ The other girl chuckled.
‘Yeah, that makes more sense.’
The rouge haired girl guided them to the nearest bathroom, making sure to avoid any human interactions and security cameras. Once the coast was clear, Inca produced a compact spray bottle from her pocket and sprayed herself with it.
The liquid was an interesting mix of gold and green. It was solid, with a slight glimmer to the touch; yet it left no trace along her skin and the fabric of her shirt. The younger girl knew that liquid from first glance, though she doubts where the rouge haired girl had got it from. As the bottle had been obviously new, yet no suppliers near Jakarta had been willing to make such a bulky delivery inside the city since Andrew’s case.
‘Can I have some?’ Amo asked, though her voice had made it resemble a demand.
‘You’re on house arrest.’
‘Would you risk it?’
Inca paused, then sighed. Knowing she would always give in to the younger girl, much like the last couple of days.
‘Tell no soul.’
‘Deal.’
The rouge haired girl quickly sprayed the liquid around her, making sure to avoid any sensitive areas such as the eyes. Amo had missed the lingering smell of damped earth and old forest trees surrounding her, though she was slightly disappointed she didn’t get to spray the liquid herself. Of course, Inca had gone back to the smell of fresh strawberries.
‘Do you think this stuff actually works?’
‘What, you don’t trust potion magic?’
‘I’m a charm caster.’
Inca sighed, then proceeds to read the description on the half-finished spray bottle; to which Amo had protested her for not peeling off.
‘Grade A Psychic Perfume: When shown to a person, induces the subject to see whatever the user wished them to see. Use daily for maximum effect. Composition: Pig’s heart-’
‘Okay, you can stop now.’
The two of them laughed, their innocence washing over their bruised soul, just enough to make them aware of it. Of course, the laughter stopped once they noticed how pathetic they’d look as they clung onto the remains of their childhood. They could hardly think over how rough their hands had clammed onto their ankle-length skirts.
‘We shouldn’t be going through this,’ Amo whispered, her frustrations leaking through her gritted teeth.
Inca’s mouth clamped shut at the girl’s tone, quickly shuffling the potion bottle back into her pocket. Her mind wandered to her past, what was left of it. Silent muffled cries in the dead of night shattered glass and heavy uneven footsteps. It had taken her a moment to realize she was no longer in the shophouse. Her eyes went back to meet Amo’s who clearly has her own battles.
However, the rouge had known the younger girl long enough to learn that one should never confront Amo in this position. She was no fool to what had been the charm caster’s past, as the smell of pain and burnt concrete seemed to linger on the girl’s mind wherever she went. It was as if the place never left her.
‘Sorry,’ The cobalt haired girl whispered, her mind slowly surfacing back.
‘It’s okay.’
Still, the corners of the witch’s mouth quivered at the memory, the overwhelming sensation of fire and gasoline washing over the core of her spine. Locked doors, empty rooms, pleads of help. And with one swift motion, the pain took her back into her home.
'Burn the witch!’
'Burn the witch!’
'Burn the witch!’
'Mom! Dad!’
'Help Me!’
Of course, the two of them knew how the story ended; Amo spent no more time lingering on what happened next. Witches were known for cowardice, well, Amo’s kind at least. Quickly, the two of them shuffled outside the bathroom, the smell of Inca’s potion slowly growing sower against Amo’s skin.
‘Good luck,’ The charm caster said. ‘With today, I mean.’
The rogue looked at her and smile, though they both knew it was merely a formality.
‘Likewise, bunny.’
- Writer
