Novels2Search
Struggle
Chapter 8

Chapter 8

“Mom I can’t sit in the hospital anymore. It’s driving me crazy. I need to get out.”

“Honey, we can’t just leave your brother here.”

“Well what is he gonna do mom, run off somewhere?”

She glares angrily at me, her happy appearance now gone.

“Fine. You can go to the house only if your father goes with you.”

Before I even get a chance to look at my dad with puppy dog eyes, he says. “Yeah, we’ll go. We need to grab some medicine and blankets anyways.” Giving me a small, knowing wink , my insides gush warmly at the thought of leaving.

“I’m also going to be going to that church down the street tomorrow morning. Will you come with me, Mae?”

“Do I have to?”

“Yes. You do if-”

“If what, if want to live in this house? Was that what you were going to say?”

“You can’t make me go, you can’t control me anymore. You’re not paying any bills or putting a roof over my head.”

“Do you want to see your brother?”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Now honey,” Dad interjected. “You don’t need to push her that far.”

“Oh so you’re on her side now?”

“There aren’t sides, we’re family.”

“Yes there are and you-”

Skipping another pointless argument, I wrangle my way out of my moms hands towards the door. “I’ll be outside when you wanna go dad.” Not looking back, I skip down the hallway and stairs, not looking forward to coming back.

Pushing open the emergency exit, a group of neckbearded 20 year olds stood outside the exit vaping, smelling like axe, and being obnoxiously loud. Waiting around for my dad, I overhear their conversations.

“Yeah man, I was fighting a goblin with my katana and chopped his head off clean in one stroke. Yeah bro? Well can you do this?”

Not lifting his vape to his lips, the neckbeard expanded his stomach further than what already seemed possible, and pushed a verifiable cloud out. Although it wasn’t a thick cloud of smoke, it still veiled it’s surroundings and covered me entirely from 10 feet away.

“Asshole.” I mutter softly.

"Bro that's so awesome! Can you do O's though?" A ugly smirk and a tip of the fedora followed by a lot of "bros" and "woahs".

My dad soon came out the emergency exit with a half-hearted smile, brushing away the smoke, and saving the day. “Sorry about that.” He apologises for my mom yet again.

“Yeah.”

“Well honey, it’s a ten mile walk so prepare yourself. It’ll take a while.”

“I don’t mind. As long as I’m away from the mass throng of dying people and of course, mom.”

He smiles back. “She just cares about you. Maybe it’s not the best way of showing it but she does. She worries about you a lot.”

“I don’t want her to worry about me, I can handle myself, I don’t need someone always breathing down my neck.” He gives me a hug.

“You’ll always be our kid and we will always worry about you, sorry.” He smiles.

“Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.”

We decide the best course of action is to walk on the street or at least near it. The more people around us the safer, my dads broken arm not gonna get us far in battle.

On the side of the main street, businesses are trying to rebuild. Jayce’s Lumber and hardware store, now turning into a small fort. A small army of people lumber lumbar back and forth from the building. I notice one worker sliding his hand across two pieces of wood, nails being implanted in it after. Another uses some sort of magical glue on the stores sign to meld it back in place.

Many people were clearing the forest behind the shop, the sound of chopping wood heard from a mile away. The town seemed now busier and more lively than I've ever seen. Kids run from street to street shooting balls of snow at each other, people are actually interacting with their neighbors. A friendly hello assaults us as we walk by every person we see. 

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Walking next to my dad, I couldn’t help but ask.

“Sooo…...do you have any skills?”

A small grin and a raised eyebrow follows.

“Back away and get behind me.”

He points his finger in front of him on the sidewalk and a line of electricity grounds into the cement.

“That’s so cool!” I rush to hug him, trying to gode more out of him.

“What skill is that? How much mana does it cost and what’s your base mana pool?”

“It’s the basic skill zap. It costs 15 mana and my mana increased to 120.”

"Did you start out at 100?"  

"Yep."

"What’s your mana regen at?"

"Well it’s pretty low at 45 an hour. You're mom however is stronger than me. She's got a few spells and she's level 9 believe it or not."

"I wouldn't have guessed."

I walk in silence trying to come up with more questions.

“Do you think you got that skill because you’re an electrician?” I ask.

“Probably more or less. I used it to jumpstart a car to make it to the hospital ya know?”

“That’s so cool! You’re like a superdad now! You can fight evil!”

His smile turns into a small frown. “I don’t want any of that. I just want to keep my family safe right now. You, your mom, and Lucas need me right now. I won’t be off fighting evil.”

My mood now more uplifted, I whistle down the broken streets and monster corpses.

Now that I’ve practiced pulsing my mana, releasing my tension. I’ve decided to do it constantly and wash my anxiety ridden body. Syncing it with my heart, I’ll pulse my mana throughout my body and then retract it back into its compact ball form. Although I can’t quite get it to be compact yet, or even turn the mana into an exact ball, with practice I’m getting better. My reach of mana is also reaching further down my limbs, my mana slowly expanding and getting used to flowing throughout my body.

As we walk through the streets to get to our neighborhood, I take a big gulp and keep my eyes open. A giant monster of magnitude unimaginable decided to walk directly through our neighborhood, destroying many houses. I wonder exactly where it is now, happy that it decided to move on.

Nextdoor, Steve and Mary’s house somehow ceased to exist in our space-time.Their lot of land now covered in dead grass, completely empty, void of all life and history.

I look to my Dad and his face turns into one of no emotion again.

Passing along the next street, my dad waves to the Billings. Their house luckily wasn’t damaged but now boarded up many times over. The house adjacent to theirs, ransacked with windows broken and no door to be seen. I mean honestly where did that door go? Who would steal a door?

We walk down to our familiar street, Cutter Drive. My heart palpitates, preparing for the worst.

The stop sign now blown away, sticking halfway into the corner houses garage.

I look to see our two story house further down the road. The back left portion of the house, where my brothers room is, fell through to the bottom. My parents bedroom and kitchen were almost directly under it, as I try to imagine what had happened. They were probably still eating breakfast and getting ready, when a house fell, full force around them. I’m assuming my brother became knocked out immediately, as my dad rushed him to the hospital. My eyes could barely retain water as I sniffled it back up, the experience seeming more real. 

I tighten my grip on my father's hand, pulsing my mana in a shorter, more rushed, compact way.

Walking through the oddly dead grass up to the front door, I slam it open and peak my head inside. Looking in, our living room was a mess. A broken beam slid down in the middle of it. The TV felled face forward with glass littering the floor. The stairs seemed intact but coated with ugly bloodstains.

“Do you want me to go upstairs with you?”

“No, I can take care of myself.”

"Are you sure, sure?"

"I'm sure, sure."

“Well I’m gonna find some medicine, blankets, and some food. Find a bag that we can fill up.”

I walk to the right of the stairs avoiding the trail of blood that has been sitting in the sun for the past week. Part of our christmas tree in our attic hung slightly off the now giant hole. To the right of the second floor, a small hallway led to my room, the door remaining slightly open. With mixed feelings, not entirely sure if I closed the door the morning of, I push open the door slowly.

The window was busted, the glass shattered on my bed. My PC was entirely fine, sitting below my desk but my crt monitor did not make it. An urge from deep within my soul told me to sit and just play a game or two, or three, or four. Stop. No more games, Mae. 

The closet however was ajar and I know that I never open up that closet of mess. I’ve found that the best method to organise dirty clothes and clean my bedroom at the same time is to throw them in the closet and close my eyes. Unfortunately, the one thing I wanted to come home for is locked in a box under those piles of clothes.

A plan concocted in my head beforehand, preparing for the worst. I kicked open the closet but the door didn’t open all the way, jammed on the mess. I give it one more hard kick and as it opens, I notice a tail sticking out of the clothes.

Balancing the mana in my body, I push half of it into my fist, mimicking Joe's punch. 

Lunging my right hand forward, I send my fist straight at it’s butt. I hear a crack but I know it's not out for the count. The rat turned around and stuck it's head out, rearing its giant front teeth. Slamming my fist down onto it's head, I close my eyes, hoping that I killed it.

As soon as I made contact on my second punch, the mana in my hand depleted immediately. My pulse heightens, the adrenaline shooting through my blood. Taking a deep breathe with a wave of mana, I calm down and assess the situation.

Blood covered my jeans completely, not entirely sure if it was mine or the rats. It also cascaded down my knuckles, the blood thicker than I thought it should be. 

Intrusive thoughts inevitably arise afterwards. Would drinking a mana empowered beings blood make me stronger? Would anything from the rat be useful? Am I going to die soon from something stronger than me? Is someone just gonna punch me twice and end my existence? Did that rat have a life and a family?

I need to become stronger, I'm falling behind the curve. 

Digging into my dirtied, now bloodied, clothes and pushing past a corpse, I find what I was looking for. A small tin box bent open, it’s contents spilled almost completely out. The fucker ate my weed.