Chapter Eleven
Chapter Eleven
Arborview - October 4, 1:59 p.m.
Footsteps. Wooden panels creaked and the cauldron continued to simmer across from me. It made me nervous - How did any of this tie into the white-haired woman's visit from the night before? Was this Adene the white-haired woman? Was my mother walking toward me? Hurriedly, I ran to the ladder.
"Going somewhere?" Her voice pierced through my body.
As my arms grasped for the ladder, I saw goosebumps form. Please let none of this be real, please let this have nothing to do with me after all. I thought about the skeletons, how one read "Shadow," about how she spoke of a stupid skeleton boy and a beast. Please tell me I have nothing to do with this.
I tried to mask my nervousness but failed miserably, my cheeks flushed scarlet. I figured if I couldn't appear calm, that I should act calm. "I'm going back upstairs."
Mother stepped closer, her heels clicking on the floor. She wore a face full of confidence that I had never witnessed before. "I don't think you are."
"What is this place?" I tried to sound naive. I glanced up at the ceiling, the cobwebs consuming the cracked stone. I had acted naive with my father and perhaps it would work with my mother, I hoped.
"It's a place that has never been of your concern. I'm appalled by the fact that you would even come down here. There's a reason as to why it's such a complicated place to find." She seemed different, very different, her tone of voice more frigid than normal and her mannerisms detached.
"Mother -"
"Don't interrupt me. This hall, these rooms - this is my work place, Moss. Do you understand? You must accept the consequences now." She snapped at me.
A pointed hat rested above her silvery hair and I took advantage of the opportunity to question about it. I felt paranoid, skeptical, but I needed to calm her down with distraction. Was I thinking irrationally? I was scared of my mother, I'd never felt fear toward her before. I needed for her to believe that I wasn't worthy of being titled "Shadow," "Prisoner," or "Traitor," bones amongst her vast corpse collection. "Yes, but why are you wearing a witch's hat?"
She crossed her arms. "Don't act foolish, Moss. You know perfectly well that I'm a dark witch."
I remembered a history class and learning about dark witches and the Dark Council cult that most followed and how they'd been banished from Eastvale long ago, and never would I have suspected my mother to be a dark witch.
"How...would I know that?" My heart felt weak, none of this seemed real. Much like my other memories, it transformed into a nightmare.
Her eyes softened and she spoke, "Because I know you too well. As soon as you wandered into this corridor, I knew of your presence. Your aura, Moss, is strong and after living with you for so long, even I could never mistake it for anything else."
My aura? What did she mean? The mask of innocence dissipated, I knew I couldn't get out of this by playing naive as I'd done before. Now I wanted answers. I coldly replied, "Why would you speak about me like I'm a circus animal? Why would you laugh at me?"
"Because none of this matters anymore. Your freedom was at the price of your own ignorance, ignorance which no longer exists. Therefore, you're no longer free. Don't you get it?"
No, I didn't get it. I wanted to, but I didn't. She continued to follow me, cornered me. I was surrounded by candles, engulfed in the room's ancient texts. My mother was a vulture and I was her prey. I had already lost. My knees weakened.
"You arrived here as a prisoner and you shall remain one." She kept cornering me in her room full of books and alchemy supplies. What did she mean, a prisoner?
"Why are you doing this?"
"Moss, I've been planning for this moment all of your life, it was bound to happen - it was fate that one afternoon you'd come down here, your freedom was merely temporary. No one is going to come and help you out. I made it that way. Like a spider, I wove your life and its web of lies," she smiled crookedly. I didn't understand what she meant but I was too lightheaded to try and comprehend her statement. A knot formed in my throat, if I spoke, I would cry.
All of my life, I had latched onto my silent parents, hoping that they'd come around to having an interest in me, to paying attention to me, to loving me. And this, now this - I wasn't even sure what to make of this. The skeletons and blood were real, everything was real. The multitude of candle flames flickered in my eyes, frozen with tears I fought to hold back.
I never cried and now I was going to.
But I didn't.
It all happened too quickly.
A beam of light poured from her fingertips and the ribbons surrounded me, I felt as though I had died already. Was I alive? The light pulled me up into the air and I collapsed again. I didn't get up. As the world became a shadowed place and the voice of my mother explaining to me how none of this ever really mattered faded, I lost all control and my eyes shut. Lifeless.
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