Eternal Daughter

Chapter 3: Mist Dreams

Finally able to move, I stumbled backward into the glass, tears burning tracks down my flaming cheeks, choking on more while I forced myself to turn slowly and walk away.

I didn't make it far. I chose the nearest ward and slipped inside. I needed to hide, to escape and probably should have done so in a realm where I couldn't hurt anyone. But the comforting peace of the hospital enveloped me, the soft emotions of the night mixing with the lingering limbo of health and illness drawing me deeper.

I sank at last onto a narrow, uncomfortable sofa under a big window at the end of a ward corridor and hugged my knees to my chest. I had just enough control left to hide myself from the mortals who patrolled the halls before sinking my forehead against the worn denim of my jeans and weeping as softly as I could, expelling the violent, poisoned emotions I'd gathered from Daphne and Ophelia into the fabric of my pants.

When I was finally done I sniffed a few times, wiped my nose on the cuff of my dark plaid shirt and collapsed back on the worn cushions. I always felt better when I let out the emotions I gathered, stronger somehow, more myself. I had to do it privately, though, or risk gathering even more feelings from others who either wanted to make me feel better or, more often, chose to tease me for my weakness. But I'd come to realize crying wasn't weak. If anything, it helped me. And while I didn't like having to go through five minutes of sobbing my heart out, the alternative was unimaginable.

My eight year old self learned early I either let the emotions out as fast as possible or I couldn't function. And while I struggled with offering myself compliments, my own resilience shocked me sometimes.

Weary and weak from the experience I examined my own aura, the empathetic layer surrounding it that seemed unable to do anything but absorb the feelings that battered me on a constant basis. I'd often wondered where it came from and why it troubled me so. It had grown denser over the years, taking on more than I'd ever thought anyone could handle. It was able to smother my aura so completely at times I could almost feel myself slipping away. And in those moments when I hovered on the edge of no longer being Eve, of falling into darkness and the stillness of release, there was the mist.

I dreamed about it my whole life. Felt it hiding within me like a wavering second soul. I was certain it was because of that odd presence I was able to bounce back over and over, find myself again, even dig up a bit of optimism when I needed it most. But neither my father nor my mother could tell me what it was for or about.

Dad would just look at me strangely and hug me. Mom, on the other hand, with her arrogant overbearingness that burned with the forward momentum of Life unyielding, wouldn't even listen.

I teased the edges of the mist, letting myself sink into it only to feel it retreat with what seemed to me like sadness. Some kind of hesitation, of waiting even. I sighed and shook off the questions this kind of exploration always raised. I was getting nowhere, as usual. Except to the place where I believed utterly I was just a freak.

"Eve." How had she snuck up on me like that? I jerked slightly in surprise to find Cadence standing a few feet away, hands clasped before her. She seemed nervous, glancing back over her shoulder, brown curls bouncing, before taking a hesitant step forward. "Are you okay?"

Why should she care? That bitter and instant reaction made me inhale and instantly reject such a response. "I'm fine." I wasn't, that much had to be obvious, but I would make a good show of things in front of my younger sister.

Cadence joined me, to my utter shock, sinking to the sofa next to me, hands still folded, now settled in her lap over the pattern of flowers printed on her full skirt. She cleared her throat, a small and delicate sound, dark hair scented with Mom's favorite roses. "I'm sorry." The words blurted from her, lower lip trembling slightly. "For not speaking up."

I gaped in shock, not sure what to make of this encounter, or of the sorrow in her aura now tinting my inner world with the need to hug her. "Against Daphne?"

Cadence nodded, swiped at one round cheek as a tear fell. She glanced at me quickly, large, brown eyes blinking, glistening with more moisture. She was crying? For me? "I wanted you to know," she said, "I hate how she treats you."

Despite the weight of her sorrow, I almost laughed. It was a gut reaction to such kindness, unfamiliar from one of my sisters. "That makes two of us." No, I wouldn't take this girl into my confidence. This had to be some kind of trick, a ploy of Daphne's to give me solace then use it against me. But Cadence's emotions were so raw, felt so real, I found myself softening toward her when she spoke again.

"I'm not strong enough to stand against her," Cadence said, the wisdom of Life in her young voice. "And I won't always be able to take your side. But I'm here for you, Eve." She smiled then, offering one hand which I took slowly, limply, feeling the gentle offer of friendship and sisterly love in her touch through our auras. "You might not know it, but you're the strongest of all of us. What you go through, how mean Daphne is to you." She sniffed subtly, stood after squeezing my hand, still clinging to my fingers. "You never say anything to hurt anyone." The wonder in her tone made me flinch from the truth of living in Life's realm. "You're my favorite sister. I just thought you should know."

Cadence hurried off, her skirt whispering in the quiet, feet carrying her away from me too quickly for me to react in my stunned silence.

The moment she was gone distrust woke, thoughts of Daphne again invading. Cadence was my sister's apprentice, shadowed her. She had to be behind this attempt to get into my heart. None of my sisters had ever tried such a thing before. Unlike Death's sons, it hadn't taken Life's daughters long to start their lifetime dance of one upping and spite against me. At least my brothers waited until I was eight and proved to be a disaster before shunning my presence.

But as I sat there and thought it through, the more I considered my younger sister's actions, the better I saw the truth.

Never once had Cadence treated me with disdain or spoken an unkind word. In fact, the opposite. She had always gone out of her way to avoid being mean or cruel. Still, it was hard to accept maybe, just maybe, I had a friend in Life after all. And, possibly more than one. What if there were those of my sisters without the courage to speak up as Cadence had? Surely all of Mom's daughters weren't like her. I was proof of that and, honestly, aside from Daphne and Ophelia, most of my sisters simply ignored me as unimportant and unable to assist them in their climb to favor with Life.

How many of them despised Mom's encouragement to competition as I did?

Regardless of the truth, Cadence's visit succeeded in releasing the last of my hurt. That and the time to myself granted me ease and relief. Enough so I finally felt up to facing my dad. I rose from the couch and stretched, vertebrae popping and muscles pulling. My black hair had escaped the messy bun I preferred, so I made busy with still shaky hands. The stretched out elastic barely contained the massive curly mess that fell to the small of my back when I let it. As I stepped past a partially open door, fumbling with the static laden stuff, I glanced inside, gaze caught by a flicker of light and my own reflection in the window.

I'd had better hair days, that much was obvious. Didn't help my looks my plaid button up sat askew, my messy bun more of a monstrosity of knots and twists sticking out behind my head than a hairdo. My already pale skin looked ghostly in the glass, eyes two sunken, black holes instead of the dark blue I knew they were. I jerked to a stop, fingers finding my sharp cheekbones, wondering if this was how mortals saw me when I was playing at being an angel of Death or if I just looked like crap in general.

The flickering light steadied to constant illumination, drawing my gaze down from my own appalling appearance and to a face turned up toward me. I froze in his doorway, realizing only then I'd drifted close enough I caught his attention. I had to have been in pediatrics I realized as I flushed at the sight of the handsome teenager in the bed. His dark hair, sheered short, showed a long, narrow scar at the base of his skull. But his high cheekbones and wide jaw made him classically good looking, as did the pale, gray eyes that caught the light from the screen of his laptop. Eerie, though, his face in that glow, his cheeks slightly sunken, teeth seeming transparent when he smiled and beckoned.

I'd let my glamour fail me, the masking of my presence clearly gone or he never would have seen me. How could I be so careless?

I glanced behind me, one hand going to my throat in surprise and embarrassment. Partially out of concern I'd let myself slip and partially because I'd never had a cute guy pay me the least attention. Never mind I rarely had the chance to encounter anything resembling a handsome boy my age outside my brothers. Which made me shudder slightly and ew in my head before I squeaked out a question.

"Me?"

***