In the Darkness

Rifiuto: Non Miriena

Summary: When the spirit world is constantly trying to draw you in, even when you're tethered to the mortal world, can you balance your body & soul? Would you kill the one you loved so you could live in one world, or take your own life to live in another?

... Now the ghosts come dancing by, out of the shadows of my life... why do I have to face them again? I live my life in one straight line, the future ahead and the past behind. Don't wanna go back to yesterday, but I don't know how long I can run this way... Formerly 'I Live My Life in One Straight Line'.

A/N: Okay, I figured it out. In her reworked notes, she crosses out the original summary, and uses the lyrics from the So Weird theme song in place of them, but then she crosses those out, rewrites the original summary, and then adds the lyrics to the end of the original. Sorry, everyone, that's my bad. I wasn't understanding Zani's notes. Written: 2010. Rewritten: 2015. Found: 2019.- Licia

Beads of red.

Bright.

Fresh.

Like freshly-spilled cranberries.

They lead from the bedroom, down the hall, into the bathroom. Silence fills the house; Shell and Nessa aren't home, and Father is at work. Nanny is downstairs in the kitchen; leaving me upstairs, alone. No, not alone; she's upstairs too, though she's not with me. She left me playing with my dolls in my bedroom, saying that she would be right back. But she didn't come right back, and so I went to look for her. The door swings open-

She's floating in the bathtub, the water is stained pink, and she's not breathing, not moving. Her eyes are closed, and she doesn't respond.

"Mama! No! Mama! Mama!"

I bolt upright in bed, the screams of my eight-year-old self ringing loud in my ears.

Not again.

It's been the same since that day ten years ago, when I found my mother floating in our bathtub, her slender wrists ripped open by a razor. Every day, for the past ten years, I've dreamed of her, and what she did, and how she left me alone. How she left me alone with that... that monster...

I tangle a hand in my black hair, propping my elbow onto my knee and taking a deep breath. I'm trying to remain calm- trying being the operative word. It's not easy, especially when I know that after that, she isn't far behind.

"You wake me up, out of a sound sleep... why can't you leave me alone, just for a few hours? I'm not asking for the year, or even the entire day, because I know that's not possible, but can't you leave me alone for a few hours? Just long enough so I can get a decent night's sleep? Please? Is that too much to ask?"

The drawing pad on my desk slides off, it and the pencils clattering to the ground, followed quickly by the charcoal and my journal. I lift my head to glare at the desk and the movement stops. "You've got me awake, now what do you want? Or did you just decide that everyone being sound asleep was just too much and you decided to wreak havoc?"

Silence.

"I'm not asking for a week-long vacation, but I would like one night where I don't wake up with my screams from that day ringing in my head. You know, one night where I can get a good night's sleep instead of being woken up at..." I glance quickly at the clock on my nightstand, and try unsuccessfully to suppress a groan. "Two-fifteen in the morning."

Groaning softly, I tumble back amid the few pillows, pulling the covers over my head. Maybe if I just ignore her, she'll go away and I can go back to sleep-

The blankets are yanked down, and after a moment, I look up, to find her staring down at me. She sighs, her long, mahogany curls tumbling over her shoulder. She watches me in silence for several minutes before she finally sits back. It always surprises me at how exceptionally young my mother looks. And how similar we are; with the exception of my skin- a sickeningly disgusting shade of emerald green, in my opinion- we could pass for twins. I share not a single trait with my father, and you could say that that's a good thing, considering my father is a Unionist minister from... well, I'm not really sure where.

My mother, on the other hand, is of origins that are not at all questionable- she's the Thropp Second Descending, daughter of the Thropp First Descending, and granddaughter of the Eminence of the East. In short, she was to be the next Governor of Munchkinland, making me the Thropp Third Descending. Meaning, in essence, that I come from Munchkin royalty, if you will.

My mother took the Governorship when she was merely twenty, after her mother, Oziandra, passed away. She had married my father to escape the Governorship, and instead, ended up taking it instead. We call Colwen Grounds, the Governor's mansion with it's sprawling grounds and ancient history seeping from every wall and corner, home.

"No need to be so harsh, Fabala." I whimper in protest, and push myself up onto my elbows. "Can't a mother spend time with her daughter?"

"Yes, but during the day, like normal mothers and daughters." I watch her wince, and know I've struck a nerve, but I'm so tired at that point, that I don't care. "Why don't you go bother Nessie? Or Shell? I'm sure either of them would be thrilled to see you-"

"You know they can't, Fabala. Only you can."

I shut my eyes and collapse back onto the bed. Of course, how could I forget that one, teeny, tiny little detail? Especially since I've been seeing others like her long before she did what she did. Practically from the moment I was born. I wish I could say this was some rare for of Schizophrenia or Multiple Personality Disorder, but I'd be wrong and I'd be lying. And I don't lie.

I groan and shift onto my side, away from her, tugging the blankets back up and over my head, but she stops me, reaching down to stroke my hair. "I know, Mama!"

I look up, meeting her gaze, and after a moment, she slips beneath the covers, curling around me like she used to do when I was a little girl and was afraid to go to sleep thanks to a nightmare. She brushes a kiss to my hair and begins to hum a familiar lullaby I don't quite recognize, but that she must have sung to me as a child, because it slowly begins to put me to sleep.

As far as I know, I'm the only one in my family- both past and present- who has this 'gift'. Curse is more like it, if you ask me. It's not exactly easy to deal with, especially when you're a toddler, allowing your mother to feed you like most toddlers do, when suddenly some old woman you've never met is standing there, reaching out to pinch your cheeks because despite the skin color you're "just so adorable"- and her fingers go right through you. Safe to say, screaming and crying is the best reaction to get her to go away.

It doesn't get any easier as you get older; especially when they decide to come through often at the worse times imaginable- like when you're twelve and have just gotten your first cycle. Or when your father is-

You get the picture.

Point being, this is more curse than blessing, but she doesn't seem to understand that. If anything, she tends to make things worse. Not on purpose, mind you. Don't get me wrong, I love my mother, I really do, always have and always will, but there's only so much I can take.

Especially seeing as my mother is dead.