All the swirls and tendrils that connect us reach out to source him, to find him. They reach through time and space, looking, searching, probing. Longing pulls my eyes closed and draws my mouth apart. I want my lover. Now.
“Are you alright?”
Her voice intrudes on my search. “Not really.” I’m sitting in a mental hospital. “Are you?”
The prim Marine line falls into place across her face. She fusses inside the box for another jewel. “Here,” she says. “I think this will be the last one we’ll let you hold.”
“And why is that?”
“Clearly, they’re stirring your emotions.”
I shake my head, wondering what’s wrong with having your emotions stirred , but nothing falls from my mouth. I take the Herkimer diamond earrings. Clasp my fingers around them. Daniel? Can you hear me?
Marissa.
It sounds like the faintest whisper, reaching into my mind. Where are you? I can barely hear you?
The Numina. They’re…
What? They’re what? I think I’ve sat up straight in my chair.
The therapist eyes me carefully.
Daniel? Where are you?
Justice. They wanted justice for my…
For your what? Daniel? Daniel? Usually I can hear him loud and clear. These diamonds serve to link our minds. They’re supposedly my training wheels until I learn to communicate mind to mind without them. Now, either the drugs are dulling the ability to hear him or something is very, very wrong.
I’m in a…
In a what? Where are you?
“Ms. Engles, that’s enough.”
Madame Therapist stands and totters over to where I am sitting, no standing, no, I’m pacing around the room. I didn’t even notice getting to my feet.
“Give me the earrings, please.”
I whirl to face her, snarling, “They’re mine. They’re…” They’re the only way I can connect with my dangerous lover. Madame Therapist’s face is like a cloud, airy, white, and lifeless. I must be frightening her. I soften. “I’d like to keep them.”
She softens. “No, dear, the studs have points. You can hurt yourself with them. I’m sorry.” She reaches for the diamonds and drops them in the baggy. Slides the seal shut. “We’ll keep them safe for you for when you’re well.”
“What makes you think I’m not well?”
“The delusions. The rants. The anger. You’ll thank me when you’re well again.” The brittle smile appears one last time and this time, I leave it alone. The drugs have kicked in big time. I can barely keep these iron curtain eyelids from slamming shut. I give up. For now. The therapist is mistaken about who should be thanking whom. She’s probably thanking me right in this moment for giving up the fight. In truth, I’ve only just begun to fight.
Chapter 2
I wake up surrounded by white – white walls, white window blinds, white hospital grade blanket, white pillow case, white sheets. Little white plastic wristband with my name typed on it. Engles, Marissa. White clipboard hanging on the wall with a white plastic pen attached to it, hanging from a white plastic coil. Why is it I always come back to white?
When my parents died and I left my world of color and vibrancy to move in with Aunt Topaz, she literally white-washed any remaining color still leaking from my soul. Picked up a bucket of strange goo and painted it all over the walls leading from my bedroom, trapping the light and color inside the drywall. She gave me some kind of voodoo, witch magic concoction to remove my Light Rebel abilities and any memory of them until I was just a shell of myself, living in her pale world. Being immersed in white meant losing myself.
When I met with my sorcery trainer , Tom, in the ether world, we always dropped into a world of white. Being immersed in that white reality meant finding myself. What will this white world hold for me?
As if in answer, the door swings open , wide. A tall, tall, tall, lanky man dressed in khakis and a blue polo shirt pops into the room, a huge smile on his face. “Ms.
“Are you alright?”
Her voice intrudes on my search. “Not really.” I’m sitting in a mental hospital. “Are you?”
The prim Marine line falls into place across her face. She fusses inside the box for another jewel. “Here,” she says. “I think this will be the last one we’ll let you hold.”
“And why is that?”
“Clearly, they’re stirring your emotions.”
I shake my head, wondering what’s wrong with having your emotions stirred , but nothing falls from my mouth. I take the Herkimer diamond earrings. Clasp my fingers around them. Daniel? Can you hear me?
Marissa.
It sounds like the faintest whisper, reaching into my mind. Where are you? I can barely hear you?
The Numina. They’re…
What? They’re what? I think I’ve sat up straight in my chair.
The therapist eyes me carefully.
Daniel? Where are you?
Justice. They wanted justice for my…
For your what? Daniel? Daniel? Usually I can hear him loud and clear. These diamonds serve to link our minds. They’re supposedly my training wheels until I learn to communicate mind to mind without them. Now, either the drugs are dulling the ability to hear him or something is very, very wrong.
I’m in a…
In a what? Where are you?
“Ms. Engles, that’s enough.”
Madame Therapist stands and totters over to where I am sitting, no standing, no, I’m pacing around the room. I didn’t even notice getting to my feet.
“Give me the earrings, please.”
I whirl to face her, snarling, “They’re mine. They’re…” They’re the only way I can connect with my dangerous lover. Madame Therapist’s face is like a cloud, airy, white, and lifeless. I must be frightening her. I soften. “I’d like to keep them.”
She softens. “No, dear, the studs have points. You can hurt yourself with them. I’m sorry.” She reaches for the diamonds and drops them in the baggy. Slides the seal shut. “We’ll keep them safe for you for when you’re well.”
“What makes you think I’m not well?”
“The delusions. The rants. The anger. You’ll thank me when you’re well again.” The brittle smile appears one last time and this time, I leave it alone. The drugs have kicked in big time. I can barely keep these iron curtain eyelids from slamming shut. I give up. For now. The therapist is mistaken about who should be thanking whom. She’s probably thanking me right in this moment for giving up the fight. In truth, I’ve only just begun to fight.
Chapter 2
I wake up surrounded by white – white walls, white window blinds, white hospital grade blanket, white pillow case, white sheets. Little white plastic wristband with my name typed on it. Engles, Marissa. White clipboard hanging on the wall with a white plastic pen attached to it, hanging from a white plastic coil. Why is it I always come back to white?
When my parents died and I left my world of color and vibrancy to move in with Aunt Topaz, she literally white-washed any remaining color still leaking from my soul. Picked up a bucket of strange goo and painted it all over the walls leading from my bedroom, trapping the light and color inside the drywall. She gave me some kind of voodoo, witch magic concoction to remove my Light Rebel abilities and any memory of them until I was just a shell of myself, living in her pale world. Being immersed in white meant losing myself.
When I met with my sorcery trainer , Tom, in the ether world, we always dropped into a world of white. Being immersed in that white reality meant finding myself. What will this white world hold for me?
As if in answer, the door swings open , wide. A tall, tall, tall, lanky man dressed in khakis and a blue polo shirt pops into the room, a huge smile on his face. “Ms.
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