I wake up during the day and begin the process of healing. Over and over and over again until the sun sets once more. During that time, the intensity of the burn scars lessened, and the color began to return to the area. There was still the matter of the burned hair, so I figured that I would make it look more natural. I ordered a set of hair clippers around noon, and they arrived an hour later, and I give myself a buzz cut. At least it hides the bald spots and makes my thinning hair a lot less obvious.
I run my hand through the stubble. I wonder what Jenna would think of my new haircut. Maybe I should get new clothes as well. I shake that thought out as well, and scold myself. Just because a girl talks to you, doesn’t mean she’s interested in you, Lawrence. You’ve made that mistake before. I slap my forehead a couple of times, to make sure that lesson sticks.
I sigh, I shouldn’t have told her all of that. I should not have done that. What if she thinks I’m crazy? At least she didn’t call the cops. Or the ambulance. What would I say? I groan. Another bad habit of mine. Oversharing what’s on my mind. There was a reason my friends in high school stopped sharing secrets with me. Once again I slap my forehead. Drive the embarrassment away. Make the lesson stick.
At the end of it all, only the worst of the scars remained. There was still a slight snarl to my upper lip, and a quite sizable dip in my cheek, as if it had been pierced. I sigh as I rub it. Still sore. I crack the window open and crawl into bed. The day spent using magic had exhausted me. I really should work to level up to 12 so I could get that better healing spell. I’ll do that tomorrow. It doesn’t take long to fall asleep.
A few hours passed in Hen I woke to the sound of my phone buzzing, and I find that Shadow had let herself in, and nestled down on the pillow. She mewled her disapproval as I dug beneath the pillow she slept on and pulled out my phone.
“Whozzit?” I manage to stammer out.
“Ortega. Are you well?”
I yawn and sit up and glance outside the window. The moon was still high in the sky, and the land is still painted violet.
“Just a bit tired. “
“I bet. We found you a property we think you’ll like. I’ll send you the address through a text.”
“Thank you. Does it have a fireplace?”
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“Yes. And some land for whatever reason you may need. We’re thinking of turning it into a kind of complex, actually.”
I yawn again and scratch Clio’s head beneath the comforter.
“A complex?”
“Yes. Like a living area for the Chosen coming here.”
“Chosen? Is that what you’re calling us?”
“It is. Speaking of which. There’s one en route at the moment.”
“Another Chosen?”
“Yes. A man from Reno named Shawn.”
“When should I expect him?”
“Another day or two. Getting there via helicopter. He’ll be your neighbor.”
“At the motel?”
“No, at the property. We’re building another building for him to stay in.”
“Ah, alright.”
A silence falls between the two of us. Ortega is the first one to break it with a clearing of his throat.
“Well, anyways, I’ll let you get back to sleep. Anyways, Happy New Year.”
“Oh! Happy New Year to you as well.”
Was it only New Year's? Only ten days have passed since this all began. Really? Why did it feel so much longer? What were my parents doing? Why do I care? I hope they weren’t just drinking and binging on pills. I dreaded the call that would follow. There was always the thought playing out in my mind that once I was out, they’d sort themselves out. I think, deep down, I knew that I was the driving force of their addictions. I turn over in my bed. Maybe it was my guilt that made me act out? Maybe I was just a bad person at heart. Why were these thoughts coming to my mind now? When I was trying to sleep. I close my eyes.
I turn over to my other side. Sleep’s eluding me now. I wonder how my brother was doing. I hear his wife had a kid just a couple of months back. Maybe I shouldn’t blame him so harshly for his refusing to let me in. I doubt he’s doing more than earning ends meet. The whole town was, after all. I really hope I have a chance to recompense with him. He was my best friend for many years during the first part of my self-imposed hermitage. I never got the chance to thank him for those years. Nor have I had the chance to repay him the money that I borrowed during that time My lip quivers. I hope he’s alright.
The springs in the firm mattress squeal as I force myself to a sitting position. What was I doing? Why was I having these thoughts now, and not years ago when there was still a chance to repair these relationships? Was it the close brushes with death that I’ve had over these past ten days? Perhaps?
I push myself off the bed and groan as my back pops. First I toss on one of my new t-shirts and tuck that into a pair of loose-fitting jeans, which I hold up with a sliding belt, and then slide on my socks, and tie up the hiking boots I had bought alongside the clippers. After this, I slide on the mail, and tighten the buckles on both it and the gauntlets, before hiding it all with my pretty tattered hoodie.
There was no time. No time. If the doors in the city weren’t closed in time, all of them would die. My brother, my father, and my mother. Jenna. Ortega. I had to go back out and stop these incursions. Fuck this fear for my life holding me back. My life had no meaning up until ten days ago, and now I was afraid of losing it. Why? And fuck the fear of injury. I could always just heal myself. And if I’m too injured to go? Who cares. At least my life would have meant something.
“I’ll be back,” I whisper to Clio and Shadow.
Both yawn in response.