SIX
I cry for the second time today. This time I am bawling, though. Why would they make all of us go through seeing something that appalling? What are we supposed to learn from such a gruesome scene?
It takes a few minutes for my sobs to let up enough for me to speak—probably due to a backup of tears needing to get out. “Wow—I can’t believe how horrible that was… Why would anything want to kill her? I could kill him for doing it.” I look at Bonnie with pleading eyes. “You really don’t know who it was?” She doesn’t need to answer, though. I already know she has no more of an idea than I do.
My body shakes from both the anger and pain, and my stomach is even worse off than before. I feel as though emotions are going to explode out of me—through every pore. My insides contain so many mixed feelings and I don’t know how to handle or contain them.
Bonnie hands me a tissue and shakes her head. Not at me but at the vision we both just saw. I’m reading so much pain in her eyes—I can only imagine what I look like. But like it matters… My poor mother went through that torture for me. It seems unreal. I’m a little, (OK, maybe a lot) detached from this conversation again – from this room, this life. I keep wishing this is only the worst and longest dream I have ever had.
“I am sorry, sweetheart, but all I know is the story, not the specifics. That is all any of us fae know—and unfortunately, it is something we are all supposed to know.
“There is one other thing, though—when I was called upon to take care of you, I learned your mother named you Kellyn when you were born. It is the name you were meant to have. And you were meant to have this life—with the privileges you possess. At least until now, the point where you learned the truth. You were found in the fountain and taken to the hospital and it did not take long for your parents to choose you.” They had help; they were guided to you.
I pause and take a deep breath. “Wow… New life, new name. This is a lot. A whole hell of a lot.”
All I can do is play with the tissue while thinking of what to say next. My mind won’t settle on one thing for me to voice. So with another breath, I pluck the foremost thought—the one I am seeing more than any others in the tornado they’re all clustered in—and I ignore the rest. It takes all my focus, but I manage to ask Bonnie another question.
“OK, well I suppose I need this answered more than anything else right now. How in the world are my friends involved with any of this?”
“Well, that is difficult. There is a simple, yet complicated, reason you get along so well with dear Hollie—and why you can tap into her mind so easily.”
“What? Wait a minute … you know about that, too?”
“Yes, darling. I told you I know everything, and I was not exaggerating. Being around you your entire life has given me great insight into who and what you are. I am well acquainted with your spirit.”
It’s as if a light is shining outward from Bonnie when she smiles, talking about me. I get the feeling she’s rather proud. I have to admit the admiration feels damned good.
“Well, that’s … interesting. Is it, like, a gift or something I have—reading minds? Well, at least one mind?” I arch an eyebrow at the thought, wondering what I can do with that talent if I practice enough.
“Yes, in fact, it is. You have not come across many fae in your life, and the ones you have encountered were able to hide their thoughts from you. Once I explain, you will understand why that is.”
I interrupt, still sniffling and wiping the random tears that keep falling. “Wait—I was actually kind of able to sense what Andrew was thinking last night and today a little. And you, even. I was starting to think I was honing my senses a bit because it wasn’t just Hols, but I didn’t really believe it—well, I don’t think I did. Maybe I just didn’t want to…”
Bonnie nods, confirming my suspicions about my senses with just a look. She then proceeds to tell me about my friends.
“Hollie’s father is a faery. But he left her mother when Hollie was born because he knew, just as your birth mother did, the child would be better off in the human world. There are many halflings who live here and succeed greatly.”
“Wait, my mother wasn’t going to keep me? Did she just put me in that fountain, planning on leaving me?”
It’s getting really old feeling a dump truck pour a bed-full of rocks into my stomach. I don’t know what else I can handle at this point. My view of all this has drastically changed after watching that scene.
“Oh no, honey. I mean, well…” Bonnie breathes as if to brace herself for what she’s about to say. “No, your mother was not planning on keeping you for herself. But that is because she knew you were meant for better, and it is simply how things work based on families and generations.
“But the fountain—that was simply a temporary fix. She had no clue what was going to happen, sweetheart. You must know—and believe—that. You are a changeling. Your mother wanted you in the human world because she knew how special you were, and are. But if given the choice, she most certainly would have kept you as her own.”
I take yet another deep breath and I blow this one out loudly. My head is spinning, orbiting, free-falling… I don’t even know if I am understanding anymore. But I sit still and listen intently—unable to do anything else at this point.
Bonnie explains all about the magic of faeries and how they make the human world a better place. Fae bring enchantment to those who have lost their faith in wonder. The greatest artists, musicians, and authors are actually fae.
And, if not, they were, or are, inspired by someone or something of the fae realm but living in disguise with humans. Which is essentially what I gather I’m doing.
“Your mother placed a glamour—an illusion that makes people see what she wanted them to see—on you to hide any and all of your fae qualities. You are a beautiful human, that is for sure, but more brilliantly beautiful under your disguise.”
Bonnie continues with the phenomena of changelings, and why the process still takes place.
“The child who was supposed to replace you, and be with your mother, would have helped to strengthen the slowly weakening fae race. As great as faeries are, without a real, physical world where people believe in us, all our magic can slowly begin to fade. We also physically need humans—their genetic material—to keep from losing our powers. Even something as basic as skin cells help boost us.
“Most changelings are sick their entire lives, mainly because their temperaments change when switched and they inadvertently receive less attention, and sometimes less love, from the parents. That takes a toll on the body in one way or another—most do not make it past childhood. You are quite the exception, my dear. But your mother knew you would be or else I am sure she would not have risked following through.”
“Why am I any different than other changelings? Ultimately, I’m insecure and weak. I’ve spent seventeen years waiting for an answer to what’s wrong with me rather than seek it out. I’m afraid – I always have been.”
All right, that is the most honest I have been about anything in my entire life. I wonder what possessed me to say it…
“No, that is not true, no matter what you think. Your mother must have known your true nature, just as I do. She could not have missed your strength and tenacity. Those are just two of the many qualities you possess that helped you survive.”
“I’m not trying to argue with you here, but I just don’t see what you’re saying. I can’t see myself that way. Like, not at all.”
“No matter, sweetheart. You will see you come out soon enough. The snarkiness and sarcasm that is both infuriating and endearing—it will be magnified. As will everything else, including emotions. Your desire to fight authority simply because you do not like being told what to do, now that might be a problem but it will also make you strong. I am sure you will stand up for yourself and your confidence will grow.”
I know even before she’s done speaking that she is right. I do have the desire to fight, to be ab
le to do what I want and to do it how I want.
Again, Bonnie’s pride shows for me—she looks after me like she I am her own child. She beams from ear to ear, while I sit knowing my own expression is still unreadable. Not good, and not bad. I am just here. Absorbing. Even knowing the last things she said are true does not make any of the rest of this easier.
She breaks away from talking about me to tell me more about the fae world. “Not so long ago, humans and faeries worked together to keep both worlds running smoothly, and at their strongest. But no longer. People have become corrupted by so much technology and greed; their minds cannot fathom our kind any longer.”
“So, is that why Hollie is such a great artist? And her mom is so boring?”
“Well, yes and no,” Bonnie answers. “Not all humans are boring, my dear—not at all, in fact. But I believe Hollie most likely did get her skills from the fae side. I am sure her father is out there somewhere, maybe an artist himself. He loved her dearly, but felt it best he should leave. Let her mom raise her the ‘human’ way.
“Now,” Bonnie stands at this point, clearly relieved to move, even if only to the refrigerator. “I do not know if you are going to share all of this with Hollie or not, but if you do, perhaps she would like to find him. That is, if she is not too mad at him for leaving her.” Her head cocks to the side as she comes back in record time with two glasses.
“I can assure you he did it with the best of intentions. And if she does want to find him, now or anytime in the future, I would gladly help guide her.”
“That’s awesome, Bon. And I probably will tell her all this.” I shake my head, making sure all is real. “She is my best friend, after all. But I’ve gotta know what the deal is with Blake and Andrew. ’Cause I feel like you probably already know this, even though I didn’t say it, but Andrew was the one I saw at the end of my—what was it … scrying thingy last night. He was behind me when I was back by the pond afterward.”
“I had assumed as much, based on what I know and what you said. And this is the part that is going to be hardest for me to tell you, well, aside from…” Bonnie trails off and I know she doesn’t want to say anything more about my mother. And I don’t want to hear it or think about it, so I let Bonnie continue on with my friends.
“Please bear with me. You have done so well thus far, and I do not want to overwhelm you. You can stop me if all of this is becoming too much.”
Bonnie pauses, but I keep quiet. “Obviously, Andrew is not what, or who, he seems. He has another name—Donovan—and he is the leader of The Depraved. They are the unholy court of the faery realm. He came here to try to stop you from growing any stronger. And, the worst part of all, the part I have wanted to tell you for so long now, is … Blake is only Donovan’s pawn, and not much more.”
“Right…” I roll my eyes and even laugh a little. “What the heck are you talking about? Andrew—or Donovan, whatever—I get. Never could stand the guy. And it’s definitely weird, but I’ve seen enough in my dreams and it makes sense that faeries—I mean, we—would have certain sources of power just like humans. Courts sound a little odd, but there’s government and all, so whatever. I don’t even care about that right now because I’m a little confused here…
“What do you mean by saying I have a ‘destiny?’” I use finger quotes and continue with my next concern. “And how is Blake his pawn? I’ve been with him for a really long time! No way he’s a bad guy. Yeah, he can be a jerk, but what guy can’t?”
I extend my arms from the edge of the counter, bracing myself with my palms. Leaning back into my bar stool, I take some badly needed deep breaths. I try to ignore the conversations playing in my head—the ones Blake and I have had about Andrew almost seeming to control Blake lately.
“Sweetie, please do not take this the wrong way. I am not saying he is a bad guy—not at all. But he is not a good guy, either. He is whatever Donovan wants him to be. He is just a puppet. A Golem. Nothing more, and nothing less.
“He is a faery who appears to be human, but cannot think for himself. It is as if he is a zombie-like computer, and Donovan—I am sorry, Andrew—programmed him to do and say whatever he wanted.”
I can sense that my reaction is not helping Bonnie tell me all this stuff, but I can’t make myself look normal—whatever that means—no matter how I try. Even if all of this is true, Bonnie is being a bit harsh about it. I love Blake and she is passing him off as nothing. What is that about? Kind of pissed, I sit forward again and begin bombarding Bonnie with questions. The part about Blake just can’t be true. I don’t want it to be.
“But why would he do that? How could he really have that much against me? I just can’t believe that part. I know it may seem weird I believe everything else, but not Blake. No. Just no.”
I close my eyes and rest my head on my hands. Tears want to come, but apparently I am back to how I have always been. Holding things in; ignoring my emotions. Crying doesn’t ever help me deal, anyway. Finding Blake and proving Bonnie wrong will, though. I blow out a long breath, run my hands down my face, and look up at Bonnie again, desperately searching for her to tell me something different.
Bonnie shakes her head slightly. “I am truly sorry, darling. Maybe the legends about Golems are wrong. Maybe after all this time he did become Blake. He could very well be the guy you fell in love with. It has been a long time—maybe he gained his own sense of self. He does seem to truly care for you and not simply act like it.”
“Yeah, that’s gotta be possible, right? He can’t, I mean, seriously—he can’t have just been some robot acting like Donovan wanted him to.” I feel that Donovan is a better name for Andrew; it suits him. So I decide to start calling him that. Separate him from humanity. Maybe it will help me forget all of this and move on to whatever is coming that much quicker—and easier.
Hey, a girl can hope.
I am about to say more about Blake when I hear my parents came downstairs. I turn to them and when I look back, I find an empty seat across from me. No Bonnie.
Where could she have gone? This is just perfect. When I absolutely need her the most…
“Hi sweetie,” my mom says purely out of habit as she walks over to the coffee pot.
“Good morning, Mom, Dad,” I reply coldly. Even I’m shocked by how mean I sound. It’s not exactly fair since they don’t know what’s coming. But they should know. They can’t have thought they would get away with never telling me.
I am so overwhelmed and Bonnie is gone and I have nowhere else to vent. I don’t know how to handle this situation but I do know my parents are definitely going to hear an earful about their little secret. They are the ones who created this situation, after all.
“Hey kiddo,” my dad says with a sweet smile that practically breaks my heart. I notice the grey in his hair that wasn’t there the last time I really looked. I’ve missed out on so much with him and I hate that. It makes me despise this moment even more.
He stops at the island, seemingly to chat. Odd.
“Is Hollie here? I see you have an extra plate and a few glasses out.”
“Um, no.” I crease my brow, confused about the question.
“Blake better not be hiding around here, Alexis. You aren’t eighteen yet and you still live—”
I get up and start to walk out of the room; my movement cutting my dad off mid-sentence. I don’t think I can have this conversation right now. I know this is a shitty move but it has to be better than a confrontation.
“Excuse me, miss. You do not get to walk away when I’m speaking to you!”
My dad seems to think otherwise. He knows just what buttons to push with me. I’m not one to back down from anyone talking to me that way. And he, especially, doesn’t normally talk to me like that. Which makes me think of how little he talks to me at all…
My emotions are pulling a one-eighty. Whichever way they decide to go at any given time today, they are strong. Yet I feel detached and unfeeling at the same time … as if all of this is hap
pening to someone else and I’m just an actress chosen to play out the role.
I turn around, surprised to see his coffee mug is still intact after the slam that echoed in the sparse, contemporary kitchen when he yelled. The kitchen is a perfect metaphor for this family’s relationship—it looks perfect from the outside but is cold and unfeeling. There is no warmth here. At least not with Bonnie gone.
I take yet another deep breath—I feel it’s the only way I am able to get oxygen today. Like I’m trying my ass off just to survive on an intrinsic level, and then there’s all this other shit on top of it.
So, my father thinks I can’t walk away from him. He’s about to see that he should have let me do exactly that.
“Actually Dad, I do get to walk away from you. I should walk away. Today, of all days … just the once. For one, I may still be in high school but I am old enough to make my own decisions and, two…” I pause, not wanting to continue but knowing I have to since I started it.
The tears that wanted to come a few minutes ago are about to burst forth.
My dad is staring with an odd expression. I know he isn’t used to seeing me this way and I’m probably confusing the heck out of him. My chest aches seeing him in pain but my anger overrides it.
My mom, on the other hand, is standing there blankly, either not knowing what to expect or not caring. I can pretty much assume it’s the latter.
“I don’t even want to talk about this, but since you insist … I just found out I’m adopted,” I force the words out in a tone I have never heard before and couldn’t describe if asked. I do know my voice is a mix of every emotion possible and I just want this moment to be over. But I know it’s only beginning.
“So, how’s that for a morning for ya? Were you ever planning on telling me, or were you just going to pretend my whole life?” The tears come, flooding my eyes.
“Alexis, it’s complicated,” my dad starts. “We didn’t tell you when you were younger—we wanted to wait until you could understand better, among other reasons. And we kept putting it off and then, it became ... too late.” His voice cracks on the last words and his face shows so many real emotions, unlike my mother’s face. She looks stunned—like she never thought this day would come and has absolutely no clue how to react.
I blatantly ignore her and continue to speak only to my dad. “Well, I kinda agree with you that it’s too late. Your reasons, whatever they may have been, aren’t good enough. I don’t even care what they are. This is huge and you two know it. This is my life.”
I’m practically screaming as I poke at my chest, realizing the pain from my finger is a welcome relief from the pain inside. “I’m almost done with high school and I have this to deal with now on top of everything else. Thanks a hell of a lot.”
I spare a glance at my mom and she actually speaks.
“How? How did you find this out?”
“Are you kidding me right now? Please tell me you’re kidding.” I shake my head in disbelief and she looks at the floor. At least she’s smart enough to be embarrassed. “If that’s what you’re concerned about, then I have no problem leaving. You only care about yourself, Mom. You never used to and I don’t know what changed or even when, but right now this is about me.
“I have tons to figure out so I’m gonna stay with Hols for a while. It’s not like you’ll miss me anyway since you’re never around.”
Looking back to my dad, who appears defeated sitting on a bar stool, my heart leaps toward him. I’m beyond pissed but feel the need to reassure him. These people did raise me, after all, but that doesn’t excuse this enormous lie.
“I will be back to talk about it when I can deal a little better. But, just a random bit of information—you’re wrong about something. My given name is not Alexis. I think I would like to go by Kellyn from now on. It’s the name my mother wanted me to have—a mother who saved my life by giving up her own… And here you are, Mom, not even questioning how this is affecting me. And neither are you, Dad, for that matter. I do love you guys, I really do. And that’s why this hurts so much.” I swallow, ignoring the painful lump in my throat. “You screwed up. Big time.”
My dad stands up as if to come to me but I turn around before I can know for sure. The pain of rejection shoots across the room like a bullet and causes a giant sob to release itself. I turn around the corner and dart upstairs to pack a bag.
It definitely isn’t like me to speak to my parents the way I just did, but I know it was the right thing to do. Cut the ties. At least for now. Once I figure myself out, I can come back and deal with them. They’re plenty busy enough themselves so I’m sure they will be fine.
My brain automatically chastises me with the start of a headache because I know that’s not true. They won’t be fine. At least my dad won’t. But I have too much to deal with. I simply can’t worry about him right now.
Besides, I am from another place and I belong there. There’s no sense in dragging out the inevitable. Plus, it’s not like I’m never coming back. I promised them I would and I hold myself to my promises. I would love to come back and talk to them and have my dad’s arms wrapped around me, keeping me safe like he did when I was little.
My heart hurts from having seen his face, but the lack of emotion on my mom’s pains me even more. I allow the tears to tumble freely once I am safely in my room with the door shut. Falling onto my bed, I wallow in self-pity for a few minutes, but then decide I need to leave and figure things out. And I need to find Bonnie … I still can’t figure out why she disappeared.
If there was one thing I hate, it’s not knowing things. The first task on my mind is finding Blake and discovering the truth for myself. I love that guy and I’m not sure what I will do if he isn’t real. I’ve already lost my parents in a way. Hell, I also gained a mother and lost her at the same time…
I can’t keep losing people. I just can’t.
And then there’s Hols to talk to; that’s a whole other deal.
I throw on a blue, zip-up hoodie and, using my sleeve, I wipe the tears from my cheeks and the mascara from under my eyes. I no longer care what I look like. Not that I even know—if I really do have on the ‘glamour’ Bonnie talked about.
My bag practically packs itself since the things I use most often are laying all about the room, just waiting for me to pick them up. Things seem to accumulate in piles around my room. And why not? The floor is just as great for storage as my chair is. Poor Bonnie, having to take care of me…
Every time I grab something new, I look into the bag and can’t seem to remember how the last shirt, or necklace, or whatever, had gotten in there. I laugh out loud like a crazy person, thinking that I’m walking around like a zombie, and so maybe Blake and I can be together after all.
The realization of this thought hits me. Hard.
I stop mid-action, holding a shirt, and make myself breathe normally. In through the nose, out through the mouth. I’ll be fine. I can handle this. I have to handle this.
I begin folding the shirt, now wrinkled and creased due to me unknowingly wringing it during my relaxation attempt, when another thought enters my mind. A thought that should have gone along with the last one I had. I suppose I am trying to avoid the reality at all costs. But I can’t anymore.
If Blake is what Bonnie says, then I can’t be with him at all. And what if Donovan makes Blake not even exist anymore … since I know the reality now, Donovan can’t use Blake to trick me for whatever fucked up reason he was doing so in the first place.
This simple, and horrible, fact makes me more determined than ever to get away from here and forget this place—this world—ever existed. I’m not even sure I can deal with Blake at this point. All I know is I have to find Bonnie and Hollie and get the hell out.