Corrupted By Power

Damien and I sit on a bench facing the beach. We had walked in silence all the way out the neighborhoods, past school, to the Marina. By the time we settled down the sun was low in the sky and casting rays of light across the water. I'm exhausted by everything and enjoy just sitting quietly in the warm glow of the sun. My mind relaxes to the smell of the sea breeze and rhythmic lull of crashing water. The cold of night begins to creep in as the sun sinks under the horizon.

"So where do you want to begin?" I ask Damien pulling him out of his thoughts. I give him a smile raising my eyebrows.

He chuckles at the expression, "Are you even taking this seriously?"

I shrug my grin fading glad at least that I could make him laugh after the argument with his father, "I know this isn't going to be an easy story to hear... but I don't care I just need to know, I don't think I could live without knowing where I come from, where I belong, knowing it all, good or bad."

Damien gives me a contemplative look. The gray in his eyes reflecting the ocean's light.

"As much as I'd love to I don't think I could answer many questions about your family. All I can tell you about is this world you are tied to by blood. It's filled with war, oppression, and secrecy. Among what you know of from mundane history books, underlying it all have been battles for power and control over magic and the people who can use it. We are witches and our kind have abused and been abused, all for the sake of having magic. Right now my family is in hiding because of this. There is a group that is kidnapping witches in order to harness their abilities in whichever way they deem fit." His face hardens with anger.

I wonder what it's been like for him. If these people are as dangerous as he makes them out to be then Damien and his family must be on guard all the time. Always scared that at one moment everything could be taken from them. Forced to be prisoners used as tools and weapons for this group's agenda.

"I'm sorry your family has had to live in fear." I voice my sympathy.

He seems slightly taken aback by the words. "It isn't your fault, you don't need to apologize."

"Isn't that what people do? Say sorry for another's loss? I imagine you and Bella always looking over your shoulders never being able to fully let your guard down. It must be exhausting." I fiddle with the hem of my black hoodie watching the sun creep lower into the sky.

Damien has a puzzled expression, "I never told you my sister's name."

He's looking at me with suspicion in his eyes. I quickly explain, "Oh! I met your sister while you were getting your parents," I rush. "She was so shy. It made her seem younger than her age."

This statement makes Damien soften. I ask, "Why did you lie about her being sick?"

"Well, there was a lot more to the reason why she isn't allowed to go out yet and I didn't think it was the right time to explain."

Right, all this stuff about war and secret organizations. They are getting away with taking people and families, using them. Seeing his father in person as well as his sister definitely helps piece together the gravity of the situation.

Could I choose not to be apart of it? While no one still knows about me? I could just live on ignoring my abilities making sure they never see the light of day. A part of me panics at the idea. To suppress what I've inherited from birth seems like such a tragedy. I'm just now learning about a world that I feel like I'm supposed to be a part of. I can't turn away. Besides wouldn't it be safer to know more rather than being left in the dark? What if they catch on to me in the future and I don't know how to protect myself?

"Can you teach me?" I blurt out without a second thought.

"What?" Damien replies confused by the sudden change in topic.

"Controlling my abilities and about anything else you know. I want to be prepared if I am ever to have to face this group you're talking about. I'm in the dark here and whether or not I want to ignore this world I can't help it if they find me anyways. I need to be able to help myself. You said yourself if you help prepare people like me than maybe they won't end up like another witch who is stolen away to be used. Maybe we can both find and aid others against this organization!" I begin to get excited and a little carried away with my imagination.

Damien smiles but it's short-lived, "That was the heat of the moment. I don't even know where I'd begin. I don't want to put my family in danger by snooping around other witches and possibly revealing myself. My father's support is one thing. He knows a lot more about it all than he lets on. I think he wants us in the dark because it'll keep us safe. Working from what I know would be reckless."

My enthusiasm falls with Damien's words. I begin to feel an unknown anger bubble up inside me.

"Why are you so easy to give up! You helped me this morning. You knew what to say and what to do. I think you'd be great at helping others. It's not safe in the dark. The more we don't know the easier it is to be manipulated and fear everything around us. Of course, it could be dangerous but maybe there are others out there that are trying to help too! Wars have multiple sides surely there are witches fighting against this group. Do you always want to live this way?"

Damien stares at me for a long time. I watch as he mulls over what I've said, the hanging curl of hair between his brow swaying. Shadows handsomely carve out his face due to the dying light of the sun.

I hold his gaze determined not to let my only link to understanding my magic fall away from me. His shoulders tighten with bottled up emotions his blank face hiding his thoughts from my scrutiny.

"We should go. It's almost dark." I sink at his words. He's giving up. I'm gonna lose my only source of knowledge about this expanse of unknown territory. I'll have to help myself... like always. I realize that it's not just the fact that he's giving up so easily that upsets me but that now I know I have to continue on alone.

My eyes begin to sting, I bite my lip holding back tears. I make sure not to look at Damien when I get up grabbing my bike walking ahead. Get your shit together! You've made it this far on your own. As I say it I realize something. This acute loneliness. It's worse than I'm used to now that I've got a glimpse of what it's like when you believe you're going to be able to go through something with someone else at your side. To guide and support instead of figuring it all out yourself. The relief and security of such a notion makes it really hard when it's taken away.

My breathing quickens a bit as emotions rise up so I focus on the trees swaying around me. The gentle flutter of fallen leaves eases my panic. I ground myself like I did this morning. Focusing on each step and the beauty of nature around me. It's so quiet yet there is an electric buzzing that warms me with its energy. It's amazing how quickly it makes me feel better. I uddenly feel supported.

I can't wallow in self-pity. I can do this. With or without Damien I will figure this out.

"Are you okay?" there's concern in Damien's voice.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just... tired."

"It's been a long day. Are you hungry? I could get you something."

I think back to our conversation on the bench. He is so caring. Looking for ways to make me feel better. He could do so much for so many people. I'm sure there is a part of him that really wants to liberate others and take on the people his family is running from.

It doesn't matter though, I understand he wants to protect his loved ones. I can't allow my needs to push him to do something that puts him and those he cares about in danger. I couldn't live with myself. It would be selfish.

I give him a quick smile, "No thanks, I'm not really hungry."

We reach my aunt's house and walk up the gravel path to the front porch. I walk up the steps turning to look Damien in the eyes.

"Thanks for everything you've done for me today. I hope you and your family stay safe." I take a moment looking at him before I turn to walk inside the house.

"Zella!" I spin to face him hoping he changed his mind about helping me as selfish as it is. He runs one hand through his hair pulling back the dark unruly waves. An internal struggle in his eyes.

"Get some rest," a defeated look on his face. Quickly there is a smile but it doesn't reach his eyes. I know there is more he wants to say but I don't push him.

"Thanks, Damien." I quickly head for the door and walk inside not allowing another moment to pass scared I may crumble and beg for help. After shutting it I lean against the hardwood closing my eyes. Exhaustion floods my body as I listen to Damien standing where I left him. After a while, I hear the crunch of gravel as he turns and it fades with each retreating footstep.

Once it's silent I push away from the door and head down the hall into the kitchen. I find Aunt Margaret sitting at the dining room table staring blankly at the black screen of her phone. Her body's rigid with tension.

"Aunt Margaret?" I quietly ask trying not to startle her.

Her head snaps up to look at me. Her eyes coming into focus.

"Zella where the hell have you been? I've been worried sick!" she jumps from her chair taking quick strides pulling me into a rough hug.

"Okay! Okay, I'm here! I'm sorry I'm fine as long as you don't crush me to death." I wheeze trying to get out of her firm hold.

Realizing herself she releases me and smiles sheepishly, "Sorry I just didn't know where you were. You never go out. You always come straight here from school or you text me if you decide to go to the beach or something. I thought that they-" she quickly stops, correcting herself, "I thought something might have happened to you."

I take a second, having caught what she said. What was that? They? Does she know something she isn't telling me?

"What do you mean they? What aren't you telling me?" Aunt Margaret is quick to compose herself.

"It's nothing Zella. Let's go have dinner, I made a cake for your birthday!"

I feel a fire burning up my limbs I can't control, "Do not try to hide something from me! Tell me what you meant. Who are they?!" The plates and silverware on the table begin to quiver and shake.

Aunt Margaret's facade cracks and fear shows in her eyes, "Okay!" holding up her hands in surrender, "I'll explain please sit down."