Chapter 5 - iv.

"You see things; and you say, 'Why?' But I dream things that never were; and I say, 'Why not?'" – George Bernard Shaw

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I wake up the next morning feeling groggy, stumbling throughout my routine blindly. My mind feels heavy, and I can hardly remember much of what happened after therapy. That quickly changes when I hear the tiny, high-pitched meow from my bed. The memories rush in, and I find myself staring at the seemingly perfectly healed black mass of a cat. *He's not just any cat*. I remind myself with a roll of my eyes.

The more I think over what happened, the less crazy it feels to me. A part of me recognizes Syr's words as truth, my gut pulling at me to accept it all. The part of me that spent years feeling like an imposter, like I didn't belong among my family or peers.

Growing up, I had always just assumed it was the trauma of my childhood, as well as the emotional neglect I faced at home. I mean, what child doesn't dream of being something more than human? What child doesn't wish for magical powers? We are raised on tales like 'Harry Potter, Winx Club', and even 'H2O: Just Add Water', so how could we not want the same fate? What little girl growing up in the early '00s hasn't dreamed of becoming someone like 'Sailor Moon'? Especially when you grow up being ignored and tossed to the side, learning at an early age that you're nothing special, just a burden on your family.

I try my best to shake the recurring thoughts from my mind as I make my way towards the cafe. I've worked too hard in therapy to go down that rabbit hole again. Still, my inner child's wounds make it hard to ignore. While the more logical, practical part of me knew how crazy it all was, my heart warmed and thrummed happily with the possibility of being more. Even if I have no idea what that is.

With my Iced Chai latte in hand, I find a secluded table and pull out my embarrassingly old laptop. It has seen better days and is likely going to die soon, but I can't bring myself to part with it, not when it was the last thing my grandfather bought me before he died.

'Where do I even start?'

Google quickly turns into my best friend as I type and search the various things Syr had mentioned. According to the Brittanica website, Freya is the Garman-Nordic Goddess of Love, War, Death, and Witchcraft, among other titles gifted to her. She was a powerful Goddess who supposedly had a chariot pulled by giant cats - the animal being a sacred symbol of the deity. So much so that couples would offer a feline to her on their wedding day for a successful marriage.

The search for information on my supposed powers is a little less successful. Page after page of Superhero and Superpower wikias described the control over darkness as demonic, chaotic, and evil. 'I can be bitchy, sure, but am I truly evil?' I don't think so, but then, I'm sure most people we deem evil would say the same. It isn't until I stumble upon a website for something called Psionic Abilities that I feel I get honest answers.

'Erebokinesis (or Umbrakinesis as it is more commonly called) is the psychic ability to control and manipulate not just shadows and darkness but also light. The people who have this power feel drawn to the night, the moon and often can see in the dark.' Oh. 'The power itself isn't evil, but it has become popularly associated with demons and other monstrous beings because people typically fear the dark.' The more I read, the more it clicks into place for me, like finding a missing puzzle piece.

My note-taking is interrupted by movement from across the table. I look up to see the taller girl from the other day, dazzling hazel eyes staring at me. I fidget uncomfortably under her gaze, shifting to hide my notebook from her out of instinct.

"You saw something too, right?" Her smokey voice startles me, it being not at all what I had expected.

"I'm sorry?" I question, taking her in. Her long, narrow face, adorable upturned nose, full lips, with dark brown hair sat atop her head in a messy bun. Thin, almond-shaped eyes that are lined with thick black lashes, accented with thin brows. Her darker tones suit her pale olive complexion. 'She's gorgeous.'

"My bad, I'm Jo, and my sister over there is Maye," she gestures over to across the cafe where the other girl from before is sitting, her nose buried in an anatomy book. This girl's purple hair compliments her dark brown skin, bringing out the warm golden undertones. From this distance, I couldn't make out much of her face, but I get the feeling she's just as beautiful as the girl calling herself Jo. "We saw you yesterday, and we know you saw something. We did too."

I blink at Jo, my heart picking up slightly, torn between playing dumb and telling her. On the one hand, she did approach me, admitting to experiencing something similar. On the other, she could be lying, fishing for a reason to get mad at me for staring. Perhaps she would think I'm just as messed up as Janet believes me to be.

"Okay, how about I go first?" Jo's voice breaks through my mental struggle as she shrugs nonchalantly. "Maye and I both saw your face shift. It became rounder, and your skin paled to be almost ghost-like. Your hair got longer, curlier, and changed to a paler blonde. Your lips got fuller, and you had several beauty marks. We saw pale blue markings and blue-silver energy surrounding you."

My mouth opens and closes as she speaks, the description painting a beautiful picture in my mind's eye. I could see it, envision what they saw of me. I was walking and laughing with the versions I had seen of them. Like a flame in the wind, the vision was gone, and I'm back in the cafe. Without another thought, I inform her of my descriptions of the two.

Jo smiles as she stands, reaching a hand out to me. "Come with us; you won't regret it."

For a moment, I hesitate, biting at my vertical labret, a nervous habit of mine. I glance at Maye, who is now looking at us, the book forgotten in front of her, and nod. I grab Jo's hand and gather my things so we can leave. For some reason, I trust her. Knowing that wherever they're going to take me will lead to answers, my curiosity won't let me back down now.

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