Helping Asher

I enter her home quietly, feeling very much out of place. Fancy glass sculptures line up all around her home, paintings with dashes of color all over the canvas. I glance at how clean and white her home is; not a speck of dirt in sight.

I feel under dressed, wearing my usual scuffed up converse, faded jeans, and plain blue t-shirt. Of course, I have my gloves placed on.

A maid with wild curly graying hair approaches me. She has light brown eyes, and a warm smile.

"You must be Miss Laney, no?" she asks, her voice thick with a Spanish accent.

"Yes, I'm here to see Ms. Asher." I say, noticing that she hasn't extended her hand out in greeting.

"Ms. Asher is getting ready. Please, come sit in the living room as we wait for her. She will not be long."

I nod, following the plump woman, my eyes taking in everything.

I notice a spiraling staircase in the far left corner, a long white couch extended out, a thick throw-on blanket placed on it. A big plasma TV hangs on the wall, a show on, the sound off. Sitting in the middle of the couch, I fiddle with the ends of my bracelet.

"Would you like some tea?" the maid asks.

Knowing my coordination with drinks, especially with white furniture, I shake my head. "No thank you Miss...?"

"Oh! Forgive me, my name is Valentina." she answers, a faint blush on her face.

"Sorry I took so long." a voice says, behind her.

I stand up, an automatic smile on my face.

I knew she was a big actress, but even natural, she's beautiful. Long chestnut brown hair is braided down to her lower waist, big dark green eyes staring down at me. She has smooth, almond colored skin, wearing a ruffled shirt and a pencil knit skirt. Despite her height-standing at 5'8-she wears strappey heels.

She smiles, showing off perfect white teeth, lips glossed. "Laney, I'm so glad you could make it." She reaches out a hand, and I stare at it, before lightly holding her hand with my own.

"The pleasure is all mine, Miss Asher. So, how can I help?" I ask, quickly letting go.

Asher sits on the couch across from me, waving Valentina away.

I sit back down, trying to calm my jittered nerves.

"I recently...had...a sort of awakening? I don't know what you people call it but..." she trailed off, and I noticed the slight trembling in her shoulders.

I wait, slowly letting my power slip out. I can sense the storm inside her, an inner turmoil of confusion, and sadness. And strangely...longing.

"Ms. Asher, do you have a room where I can help you?" I ask, standing from the couch.

She blinks, a bit confused, before standing up her self.

"I have the guest bedroom; it has 2 beds." She explains, making the way for me. Her heels click against the white tile. I follow, glancing at all the pictures hung up on the walls. She lives alone, I can tell that much, and I get a weird sense of loneliness from her home. Once we make it to the room, she throws the door opened.

I'm surprised this room is painted; sky blue with thick plush bluish carpet. The blinds are closed, two beds pushed into the far corners. I stretch out my arms, shaking the jitters from my hands. Ms. Asher watches, a puzzled look on her face.

"For this to work, I'm going to need you to sleep on the bed." I explain, sitting on the bed away from her.

"I don't think I can sleep; I mean, I have a very...unique sleep schedule." She replies, sitting on the other bed nonetheless.

"I have some melatonin. Would you like some?" I ask, searching through my pockets for the little container. Ms. Asher looks confused, but she nods.

"Are they like sleeping pills?"

"No, they kind of just help stimulate sleep naturally." I reply.

She takes the necessary amount, lying on her side. She looks tense, body wound up. Minutes pass before she slips off her shoes, getting more comfortable on her bed. I wait five more minutes before listening to her even breathing, soft snores escaping her.

I lay on my bed, eyes fluttering close. Counting backwards slowly, I feel my body feel heavier, then getting lighter, as I begin to exit my form.

The sensation of falling always leaves me with a churning stomach, my heart in my throat. I land on dead grass, surveying the area before me.

It feels humid in this mind, and I feel a sense of tiredness envelop me. As I walk forward, a weight settles on my chest, making it hard to move and breathe. Gray clouds appear, the scene switching to a graveyard. I squint, staring at a strange shadow a few yards in front of me.

No mental illness looks the same, but each have a certain pattern that gives me clue with what I'm dealing with. Once I walk towards the shadow, I feel a sense of loss, sadness and tiredness filling my core. My movements have become strained and sluggish, and I struggle to keep going on.

I'm close enough to see what I'm dealing with, and the shadow doesn't move; it's over seven feet tall, scraggly black hair pulled back harshly into a low ponytail. It wears a thick sweater with holes covering it, random old sweatpants on, and ruined shoes on its feet. I take breath, before summoning my power.

The mark on my arm begins to glow softly, extending out to my hand, surrounding my knuckles. After a beat, it dissipates, and I'm surprised to see golden brass knuckles on my hand. Knowing how to use them, I swing back my arm-

I'm tackled to the side, and thrown back like a rag doll. Little creatures snap at my face, fangs dripping with saliva. I gag at the smell of them, pushing it back as hard as I can. It's grouped into ten other creatures, taking turns snapping at me.

My mark reacts, glowing again, extending outward, the purple light shifting and moving. Once solid, the object lands in my right hand. I grin at the sight of my purple scythe, the blade shining brightly.

Swinging it forward, it strikes the creatures on their chest area, immediately making them disappear. Glancing around, another jumps up at me, the small gray creature opening its mouth wide, long fangs glistening at me.

I slam the scythe forward, the handle burning my hand. Crying out in surprise, I let go of the scythe, watching as it glows bright, exploding, and taking the rest of the creatures out.

I shake my head, and try to clear it, a bit stunned at what happened.

New upgrade, I guess, I think to myself, the brass knuckles shining at me.

Wasting no time, I grab the figure, categorizing as Depression, stumbling a bit as the sadness and turmoil hits me. My hold loosens, and Depression stares down at me with unblinking black eyes. It has no face or mouth, wrinkled gray skin sagging at its jaw. Depression doesn't move, and I try to shake off its hold on me.

Focusing my breathing, my brass knuckles begin to glow. Straining back up to my feet, I swing back my arm, slamming my fist against its shoulder.

Depression watches me, a line forming as it lets out a screech. My brass knuckles glow like star, enveloping Depression. After a moment, the light bursts, then fades, the brass knuckles gone. In its place, Asher stands there, wearing a baby blue sweater, and faded pants. She looks down at me, smiling.

Just like that, the mind changes, the clouds gone, graveyard vanishing into nothingness. The sun warms my face, and the weight that was on my chest is gone. I stretch, feeling my movements normalized.

"Thank you." Asher says, the mark on my arm glowing once more. I salute her, smiling as I feel the light envelop me.

And out of her mind I go.

When I awaken, I'm exhausted. Stretching out my limbs, I sit up from the bed, staring at Asher across from me. She sleeps on, blankets on her. I get up, trying to make as little noise as possible. As I make my way downstairs, I'm stopped by Valentina.

"There's something you might want to see." She says, switching on the TV in the living room.

Confused, I walk behind her.

She's changed it to the news station, a reporter speaking in a bored voice. As he continues on, it switches over to a reporter standing outside one of the biggest and successful companies in America, Larkson Corporation. A brunette reporter is laughing with the CEO of the corporation, Emilia Von Hughes. Emilia is beautiful, standing at 5'8, with strawberry blond curls pulled back in a high ponytail. She smiles at the reporter, sparkling blue eyes lighting up.

"I don't get it, what did you want me to see?" I asked, confused.

Valentina motions for me to keep watching, turning up the volume.

"....so, you're saying you're on a quest to find who again, Miss Hughes?" the reporter asks, pointing her mic at her.

A photo of me appears at the top right hand corner, blood rushing to my face.

"I'm looking for this girl, Laney Maxwell. I need her help." she replies, looking at the camera.