That woman could be my sister. More importantly, she could be my mother. She's me, twenty years older, with a softer face and a nicer smile. She's the spitting image of me, and she wears a white dress trimmed with blue flowers. Cecelia is going to show me one of her puppets and tell me it's my mum. She's going to let me believe that. I was meant to believe I saw my mother, that I spoke to her. My sense of betrayal is stupid, but it won't go away. I trusted her. I trusted her blindly. The worst part is, I would have no idea. It's comforting to think that I would. That I'd immediately know something was wrong. That some part of me knows my real mother, and would reject this interloper. And then Jamie would burst through the window and kiss me and we'd all live happily ever after. And bring about world peace. I don't know her. My mother died when I was three. I would have hugged the shadow and cried, while Cecelia looked on. I still feel betrayed. Murderous kidnapper in dishonesty shocker, I know. That bitch. The loss of my parents has always been, at worst, a dull ache. This new hope has made it agony.
I trusted her. That's the stupidest thing I've ever done. I can barely even bring myself to hate her, not when it's my stupidity that got me here. I thought that she, out of the goodness of her heart, would show me my parents. Anger is easier than sadness, but I can't muster any. There's something cold and heavy inside me. I want it to go away.
Be rational. Logical. Think, and don't cry. I need to get out of here. There is no help on the way. I have to start from that assumption, or be crushed. I start to pace, waving my hands around. It's important to emphasise your imaginary points in the imaginary argument you're having with imaginary people. I'm not losing it. She has no leverage anymore. Good. I am less lethargic now; the need to escape is burning again. Good. None of this is good, but I have to pretend. Slowly win her trust. Tried that. I don't want to be here for another moment. Try to use my magic through the pain. Worth a shot. I might even pass out. I'm in the buzzing numbness stage of an adrenaline rush. Feel the power (blue-green and freezing), say the words for an inferno. Ignore the pain. I can't. Ignore it anyway, focus on the spell. Two seconds, one spark, and then I collapse. I barely stop myself from screaming. It takes me a minute to stand up, but I did it. That's an option, if desperation can beat the pain barrier.
I am standing on the edge of the balcony and this time I'm going to jump. It's tortuous, seeing the people going about their lives underneath me. I wonder if I can see Jamie. Stop wondering, you'll drive yourself crazy. Instead, think sane thoughts about jumping off a balcony. I want to go home now. I have a home. I want it. I want to be home so badly it hurts. So I'm going to jump. I'm not going to die (I hope I'm not going to die). I want to live and I want to go home. This isn't suicide, this is an escape plan. I know a spell to manipulate air, turn it into a parachute. The magic blockers can only extend so far. Definitely not to the ground. I am staking my life on my ability to perform a difficult spell while falling. It's a terrible idea. But I don't think I'm suicidal. I plan on going home, and you have to be alive to do that. I am going to jump. I look down and wonder if anyone's looking up at me. The height doesn't particularly scare me. It doesn't feel real. It's nice to breathe air again. Good thing I don't get vertigo, isn't it. I have my old clothes on, Daphne secure in my sleeve. I've padded her hiding spot as much as I can, hoping that she won't splat even if I will. I won't splat. I can't think about that. I look down, and once again I see my life very clearly.
Except different. I see school. Going back, a nightmare of a first day. Meeting people, going to parties, slowly training my magic. Exams, some failed some passed. Enough for a place at a decent uni. Leaving home, Daphne up my sleeve. Packing the wrong things. A nice if unremarkable time at uni, where I make some friends I won't lose. Studying something or other, doing something or other. Not dreading each morning. I call Lizzie on occasion, and Mr Bates on more occasions. He goes to my graduation. I make a nauseating Instagram post about it. I make friends from the warehouse, and we show off magic. Later on, there's a steady job doing something interesting. There's coming home to a nice boy or a nice girl (who for some strange reason both morph into Jamie) who makes my heart melt. I'll show them spells, with magic that's gone gentler. Warm, not burning. We'll argue about stupid things and then make up. I'll go out with my friends, and maybe learn to draw. I'll watch my face get lined and my skin start to sag in the mirror. I'll grow old with people. It doesn't terrify me at all. It's sounds like a dream. Slowing down, letting things go all soft-focus. I desperately want to get old, to live until there's grey in my hair.
I don't want to die. It's a revelation. I do not want to die. Death is not an easy out anymore. Death is no longer cleanly turning over a fucked up page, it's unimaginably cruel. It's all gashes and blood and screaming. It is terrifying. It must be avoided. I don't want to die. I have never wanted to die, that isn't what I mean. I want to live. I want to be alive. More. I want to be me, I want to be Max and feel rain on my skin. I want to live a life, a life I threw away so easily. In this moment I have discovered more will to live than I have ever felt in my entire life. Wonderful. Now, time to jump off a building.
I have to put a lot of thought into the motion of jumping. It's better than putting thought into dying. I cannot die. I do not want to die. I can't think about what will happen if I do. On the first jump, I jump. Up and down and land in the same spot. A stepping motion will probably work better. To jump off a building. Stop thinking. Think about the spell, nothing else. I know how it feels. You become aware of the air, and then you make it be in a different place. It doesn't always work (stop thinking about that). It will work, because it has to. I gather the tiny amount of magic that can slip under the magic blockers, and try not to think about what my odds are. I square my shoulders, breathe in, and step onto nothing.
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Going Your Own Way, but with Magic
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