"I am going into town with Gwenny today," Aunty Ariana states, causing both me and Grandma to turn and stare at her in shock. But in all my shock, I couldn't stop the excitement that bubbled up inside me — I want to go outside.
"No."
"Mother."
"No. Do you know the repercussions if something happens outside?" Grandma says in a chillingly cold voice. It felt like everything in the room froze.
"And keeping her here is not helping. We don't know if the shield works or not, and whether we like it or not, she has to get contact with people," she says, standing her ground. The tension in the room is palpable, and both of them are staring, looking like they are arguing in their heads, or with their eyes. After what felt like hours, Grandmother stands — the screeching sound of the chair on the floor breaks the silence.
"I will hold you responsible if anything happens," she warns in a voice that sent a chill down my spine, before walking out of the dining room. She casts a glance in my direction, a glance that leaves me terrified of the things I can do. But even the chill of that glance, and my fear, couldn't freeze out the embers of excitement rekindled in me — flares be damned.
Aunty Ari sighs before meeting my eyes and smiling. "Fifteen minutes, Gwenny," she says, and that's all I need to go get ready. But I wasn't thrilled with my clothes; they were monochromatic and all the same type. I don't know — I don't go out often, not to mention mingling with the mortals.
"Gwen," Aunt Ari calls out, walking to my room. She glances around and smiles.
"I figured you would need some easier clothes," she says, handing me a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. "Ten minutes," she adds, walking out.
By the time I got downstairs, Aunty Ari was in her car waiting for me. The trip to town was quiet, though that had more to do with the distance to town than how quiet the town itself was. It was a small town, I observed — white picket fences, family businesses, fishing season bringing in a good number of tourists. The town was modern, and everyone seemed to know everyone. That much I learned, because the minute Aunty Ari parked her car, everyone we ran into said hi and asked about her day and who I was, and I ended up being displayed like some sort of circus animal.
After getting groceries and coffee, mostly for Aunt Ari, we walked toward an antique store — Agatha's Antiques, the store, I noted as we walked in, was full of random things not properly organized at first glance. But then you realize there is some sort of order to the chaos.
"Agie," Aunty Ari calls out, and a clashing sound of some sort of instrument follows, then a cry of pain.
"Agatha, are you alright?"
"I am okay, Ari. How are you? Haven't seen you around lately," a smallish, plump woman says as she makes her appearance. She had more grey hair than Grandma, but I doubt that was an indication of her age and more of a lifestyle choice.
"And who is this young lady?" she asks, taking in my appearance, gauging me as I also watch her.
"This is my niece, Gwendolyn. Gwenny, this is Agatha. Agie, I need you to wait here — I need to see someone, okay?" she asks, and I don't mind. I had the shield, and I wasn't sure why, but since I walked in here I felt power humming over my skin — power I hadn't felt before. It was different; it felt like it was hovering on the surface, but in my control.
Once Aunty left, I started looking around. I was convinced you could get lost in this place, and it didn't help that I could still feel the hum of this foreign power.
"Oh, shoot," I exclaim, grabbing on to a stool that fell over. In doing so, I placed my hand on the table and felt — or rather saw — memories that didn't belong to me, but I noticed they were all centred on the music box my hand was placed on: all its owners, the things that happened in its presence. Startled, I pulled back, shocked — this had never happened to me before, and I wasn't sure what to make of it. So I tried it again, holding on to another music box. The same thing happened, and even worse, I seemed to have separated the shadow from the box, because I was holding the shadow in one hand and the box in another. This was fascinating — I had used power without a flare. But now, how do I put the shadow back, and do I tell my grandmother about this?
"Oh, crap," a voice behind me curses, and then a clash of instruments and someone falling.
"You break it, you buy it," Agatha's voice rings out from somewhere in front. I observe him skeptically, because I wasn't sure if he saw me with the shadow, and that's why he fell.
"Stupid drums," he mumbles under his breath, trying to stand up.
"Are you okay?" I ask, and that seems to remind him of my presence, because he looks up so fast I am surprised his neck didn't fall off. And right under my eyes, I saw his face turn red from his neck to his ears — that was interesting.
"Yeah... I... I am," he stutters, blushing some more. "D-do you want to sing at the summer fair?" he stutters out.
I didn't need a mirror to tell you the look I had on my face was a "are you serious" look. "And what gave you the impression that I can sing?" I ask, sarcasm dripping.
"Sorry if it came out wrong — you look like a really good one," he manages to voice out, and I just look at him, taking in his appearance. He had dark hair; in this poor lighting I couldn't tell if it was dark brown or black. Neither could I tell the colour of his eyes, but they looked beautiful and had an innocence in them that was endearing in a way. He looked a few years older than me, four at most, at least I thought so — I couldn't be sure.
"Well, nice of you to think so, but I don't sing. Nice meeting you..." I look at him so I could get a name.
"River," he offers up his name.
"Well, River," I say with an eye roll, "have a nice day."
"You too," he says, a little too loudly, and he also notices, because he winces and blushes when I look back.