The Elementals (26 page)

           
"That's why you didn't try, that's why you were killed! You wanted to be. It's not your time, Terra. You're getting a second chance, be happy. Do this for us. Or else let it be all in vain and wonder for the rest of your existence if you could have done anything differently. Do you want everyone on Earth to go through what you've been through? It's not fair to them. Go. Now."

           
"I miss you."

           
"We miss you too, but it's like Windy here said, we're together again."

           
The shape in the middle that Terra could not make out who it was, finally spoke. She was soft as silk and very kind. "It will all be okay, sweetheart," Terra’s mother assured.

           
"Mom... Why?"

           
"What's the question my dear?"

           
"Why.... Why did you have to make that prophecy? Isn't it self-fulfilling? Why didn't you think of what it would mean for all of us, that someone as sick as Hadrian would take it as a challenge?"

           
There was a pregnant pause. There should have been a deeply heaved sigh there, but there was nothing. "I'm sorry for all the trouble it had caused you. Your sister had my abilities. It's not something I'm proud of; I wished she wouldn't have, but... It was what it was. It was in no one's control. Like Marissa, I was careful about whom I shared my visions with and... You called them gut feelings? I think intuition is a better word, but, ah well. You get the point here. I was in a lot of pain from her birth. It wore me to exhaustion. I wasn't myself, and so I shared what I saw during labor. It had the most horrible repercussions. I'm so sorry. You can't believe how it has tortured me so, to have my babies in danger. All because of me."

           
"Mom, no." She wanted to reassure her mother, that it wasn't her fault. It wasn't, if there was such a thing as destiny, it was to happen either way. Somehow, someone would see their future, possibly Marissa, and in a scared conniption befitting of a child, she would spill, and their life would go as accordingly. Instead of their mother blaming herself for something she couldn't control, she would be apologizing for dying. If Terra didn't stop her, she would begin to do that too. "It's not your fault, mom. We don't blame you."

           
Her family continued to be blinded from her, but she had the distinct feeling that they were crying. All except for Bryne, who stared at her straight and very serious. It was so like him to do that.

           
"Go back," her mother whispered breathlessly.

           
"And win this time," Bryne called after her when she felt herself starting to move. It was like being shoved in a smothering pillowcase, being taken away from the door to her home where she wanted to be.

           
She felt herself slipping, and she could have screamed in frustration. She did scream, she was sure of it. She was screaming when she woke, writhing on the floor. Her throat was sore, as though she had swallowed a bunch of nails that morning. The world came into focus when she blinked furiously, and she cursed whoever had decided that her time wasn't up. Her body was sore in a way it had never been before. It wasn't merely her tendons and joints, every single part of her skin and muscles, it was her spirit. Being impelled back into her dead body was more than any spirit should take. It made her physically and emotionally tired. She felt as though she lost her family all over again. They were right there in front of her, and they threw her back, almost like they didn't want her, but she knew that that was definitely not true.

           
"You just don't die," Hadrian seethed from across the room.

           
It was time to finish what was started. She rolled to her stomach, her arms outstretched, her palms pointed out at him. "Say goodbye." With all of the energy she possessed inside of her, she released it onto him.

           
It was then that an image flashed in front of her, the scene flickering out for a few seconds. She blinked to get rid of it, but there it stayed, until it flickered out, like an old movie camera that ran out of film. A vision. Her first one and it was just the one that she needed. It gave her everything that she needed to know what needed to be done next.

           
Like a strong gust of wind that stormed by, he was tossed upwards and down. You could hear a loud thud and snaps, bones breaking and crushing against wood. She pushed herself to her feet, and ran at him. With her hands in front of her she latched them onto his thorax, her sharp nails gouging in, using them as vices to the floor.

           
In the movies there would have been time for last words, last sentiments, the too-late and unavailing apologies, and possibly to show that in his final moments, he had a heart somewhere buried deep in the chasm of his chest. It was all too late however, and she wouldn't give him a chance even if he wanted one, to explain the murders he had caused.

           
The ground shook underneath them like a small earthquake. Water filled his lungs, drowning him, trickles of it escaping the corners of his mouth. He sputtered and coughed and she took grisly pleasure from it all. When the air surrounding him was crushing him, snapping his bones, he became more panicked than she had seen him in the short time they had known each other.

           
Terra was delighted over what she was doing. It was not Judy's wishes or anyone's for that matter, but it made her happy. It almost felt like justice. Almost.

           
One terminal push of her powers, and there was a spark on the hem of the sleeve of his shirt. Soon he was emerged into red and orange flames, licking hungrily at his flesh. It didn't hurt her, but for a better view, she stepped back, and watched him burn. In time it was not only him that was becoming ashes, it was the house, with the fire climbing the walls, tearing them down with its fast paced destruction.

           
It was funny to her then, how fire seemed to move so fast when one was trying to get away from it. It moved in a synchronized dance when she watched it, contemplating whether it should take her too. When half of the room was sieged in it, she stepped into it, hoping that she would feel the heat as she hadn't been able to before.

           
The smoke didn't bother her as it had Era, and that worried her greatly. Had she become indestructible? Would she never die? The fire submerged her, and then she heard the squealing of fire engines and police cars in the distance. She had to leave, but she wasn't done yet. Where was her death? That was how the story was supposed to end, wasn't it? Nothing so cruel would have her
live
, not after all that she had been through. Hadn't she deserved it?

What if they couldn't write a happily ever after? Was there any such thing? After all, all of the original fairy tales were tragedies. The remakes told lies.

           
With utmost loathing for the most recent task that she failed to do, she left out the back door. In the fullness of the moonlight, she inspected herself. Not even her clothes had looked to be touched. There wasn't the hint of residue on her. Not a tear. She was unscathed.

           
Terra gave a last look at the house where her love
Bryan
was born, and where his parents and brother had died. Where she had died too. Then she streaked into the darkness, jumping and flying over the fence to the other side.

           
She would leave the car to be found. Everything of theirs was in false names anyway. They could never be caught. Her main worry then was how she could rejoin that light and the people she loved that were there.

How could the world take on such a cheery look when her family had died? It should have been mourning for its defenders, its elements in human form. It was disrespectful.

           
When Terra arrived at Judy's house, there was no need to recover. Though she had run for several hours, she didn't feel the least bit tired. It worried her more and more, settling into her gut. She didn't receive a vision or any intuition about her future. As ridiculous as the idea was, perhaps it was true that she could not die. If she had to live forever, it would be one of depression. Death was what she was most looking forward to.

           
It started to rain, sprinkling at first, until the clouds lashed out with a storm. The rain drops pelted her in retribution, drenching her to the bone. Was it the world's way of paying her back for the life she took? It was a wasteful and abolishable life, but Hadrian still was a man....

           
Whatever the case was, right or wrong, she did not feel bad about it. She did what she had to do. It was for everyone's sake.

           
The dirt became mud and she sunk in it. It leaked into the holes of her tennis shoes. They were old by a couple of years. On the inner side of her left one there was a line of silver duct tape holding the seam together. It was pathetic but shoes had never been a main concern for her, not in retrospect of everything else there was to deal with.

           
Terra could have been standing out in front of the door for minutes. It could have been hours. If the sun shone once, she did not know. She didn't know what she was biding her time for. What was she expecting? Answers to fall out of the clouds instead of the chilling rain? That wasn't possible, but then again, she thought a lot of things weren't possible. It never crossed her mind that her family would die, that she would be left alone.

           
Sure, there was Aunt Gwen. She loved her aunt dearly, there could be no mistake about that, but her aunt was never home. It was what Terra wanted. A home and a family, a career. She thought that when the prophecy had been fulfilled that things would go back to normal. She fantasized too much, too much like Era, and she met disappointment with more than a frown. She met it with grieving.

           
Loneliness didn't begin to describe her....

           
When she thought she'd be out there alone forever, the stringy boy from the other night (could it have been only a few nights) came out. Like he was expecting her, he waltzed up to her and the thick burgundy blanket over his arm he wrapped over her shoulders.

           
"It's cold," he said as if she didn't know. It was true though, she didn't know, she couldn't feel it.

           
She couldn't feel the cold and she couldn't feel the heat. She had always pegged her and her sisters as the freaks among freaks, but she was on a different level then. She was unlike anyone else and all she had wanted was to be herself
with
someone. Not by herself, not like that.

           
The boy appeared to be in distress over her situation, appraising her up and down. "Are you in shock? Are you hurt?"

           
She swallowed, wanting to tell him that she could never be hurt, and that right there, was the problem. She couldn't die. She tried and she failed.

           
Numbly, Terra grasped the knitted blanket, holding it closer around her. It was getting as wet as she already was, but she couldn't feel her feet either, and therefore she couldn't walk to the door.

           
The strange and familiar boy bowed and lifted her up. In reflex she wrapped her arms around her neck, and he strolled to the door. There was barely a bounce in his step; he seemed to move on an escalator. It soothed her, and her eyes became heavier, filled with lead. She laid her head on his shoulder.

           
It was another first, for she had no memory of being taken care of the way he was taking care of her then. She felt comforted, cared for, and she allowed herself to enter the realm of dreams. Unfortunately, they were void of any visions pertaining to what would come of her.