(11)- The Triumphants

Xacier looked at me as I sat quietly in my room. He nudged my arm as if telling me I needed to get moving. I know everyone is relying on me. I feel so far away from them, even though I’m not. I miss my family back home. I miss my old life. I miss cell phones being the coolest thing in my life. I miss…

my dad.

my sister.

…my friends.

my home.

I felt this pain in my heart. This hole. I felt as though everything I loved was lost. That it was in a different life time. Yet somehow, this sense of a higher purpose was so comforting that I had to pursue it. There is no going back…


I wanted to cry. I felt so torn apart and lost. I felt… alone. Thu’uumki is there but I am supposed to be impressing him. He is the head of the council. One of the most powerful people in existence. And yet, somehow, I rely on him for comfort and security. To me, this all seems so crazy. How could I rely on someone I don’t know for comfort? How can I trust someone who I barely know? I think back to the days where dad was losing his mind.

“Dad?” I say, sheepishly into an empty house. I don’t really know why I bother. Even if he is there, I know he won’t really be here.

I investigate the cold, empty house. I was completely alone with my thoughts. It was something that was equally terrifying as it was comforting. It’s hard to see him lately, like he isn’t really himself anymore. He’s consumed with something lately. I try to assure myself that he’ll come back, it’s just a fleeting interest, but I can sense I’m losing him every time we go on walks together. He’s honestly just a shell of the person that took me to ballet and played soldier with me. Nowadays, he was consumed in his own paranoia.

Just days prior, I remember him telling me I needed to start training. He told me he was putting me in karate, that I needed to start learning now, because one day I will be tested. He promised he will not lose me the way he lost her. Who? I daren’t ask the question.

I walk on creaking floorboards, from the entryway through the hallway, and into the kitchen. I was investigating the walls of the house I’ve lived in since I was toddler. I remember how the walls used to be this muted green color with a shiny texture, like little half circles were individually painted on the walls. Dad disliked the color, not necessarily the color itself, just the atmosphere it created. I never understood, because to me it just felt youthful. Now the atmosphere was muted, like it was hiding its personality behind a mask. The walls now are a dull brown color. Lively, truly.

From the kitchen I catch a glimpse of the area where dad usually is busy doing his work. The room was once a delicate and elegant dining area. Now, it’s an empty shell of its former beauty. Where there was once a clean glass table is now scattered papers on the floor. Where there used to be elegant decor from south africa, has had it’s spot taken by old dusty books and stacks of paper held together by binder clips. And his desk is tucked away in a corner where he can check the mirrors and the window regularly. And somehow, despite the location of the desk, it’s still the center focus of the room, as though that’s where all the energy lies. I wonder where all that elegant decor went.

I scan the stack of papers on the floor. There is writing I don’t understand on the pages strewn all over his office. I have this pang of fear. Don’t be alarmed, he’s fine. He’s just on another tangent, is all. I reassure myself. However, I know something is off. I just don’t know what. Yet.

I go down into the basement to see if he had slept down there again, despite both of our rooms being on the top floor. I know it’s pointless, but I call out for him again. “Dad?”

I turn the corner from the first room into the second one and I see him lying on the ground, convulsing. His eyes are glazed over with this glow and through his gurgling he’s saying something, I just don’t know what. I’m in sheer terror, and I stop, and I freeze. I don’t know what to do. I vaguely make out what he’s saying, but it’s like part of my brain has shut down and discontinued function. “Shisiviit’hai lumistii,” I hear him say. As I look around, I feel like I was in a movie, an actress in my own tv show. I see, written on the wall, Shisiviit’hai lumistii. And as I’m watching this tv show in my own body, I find myself speaking. What am I saying? Is that me?

“H-hello, 911?” the girl says.

“Hi, what’s your emergency?”

And the only thing I feel in this moment is the true feeling of being completely alone.

I realized I’ve been gone for a while. Mentally, I was not present. Xacier is licking my face and that’s when I realized I’d been crying. I guess one of my superpowers is that I can time travel as well, I joked. I noticed the chair I’d been sitting in had nail marks from where I’d been gripping. Jeez, I thought to myself. I didn’t realize how intense that had gotten. Xacier Must’ve noticed how hard I was breathing and thought he’d come to the rescue.

“Good boy,” I said, petting his head in reassurance.

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