The Tragic Tales of Lynx Viatto...and maybe some other people

Did you miss me reader?

CHAPTER 9

Did you miss me, reader?

Lynx

Hi, there dear reader it's Lynx again, I have to say you must be quite confused as to how suddenly I have come back after poor Amber passed away drunk but you see I am here to continue what she could not and she is also not the only one who has a story to tell. As you could tell I am quite changed since I last appeared before I continue narrating. I have to continue from where I last left off.

After I was engulfed in the bright light I found myself in an unknown bedroom, it looked unused and as I was about to leave the room I noticed the same golden ball that had brought me here, it looked like a decoration and not wanting to be trapped in the house again, I closed the door and continued to wander around, I found 3 more bedrooms, each with an individual bathroom and in the lower floor there was a simple living room with an open kitchen and dinner table, the place was fairly simple and nothing was eccentric and exaggerated, unlike Mrs. Winchester's house, when I left the house the harsh reality of the 1900s hit me, the neighborhood was lit by street lamps and there was an eerie silence that reflected the harsh reality of life.

The next years were followed by the struggle of deciding what to occupy me with, I tried to be a seamstress but it eventually bore me, it was too repetitive, and as soon as it stopped being a challenge I gave it up. Then I tried becoming a teacher and I stuck with it until a job as a nanny came to me, since the war was going on, I was not going to refuse such an offer in complicated times. I lived in a wealthy manner to take care of some children that had a father fighting in the war and a deceased mother, it was going smoothly until the girl fell sick and passed away from hypothermia, turns out the child had spent too much time outside in the snow, and not long after the brother followed. I was left in the big house and since my contractor was far in the war, all I could do was make the best of the time. I looked for clues on how to use my witch magic, I looked in books and even went on the look for fellow witches, but no such luck came to me, then it was on my own learning that I improved my witch magic, with much practice my fucsia hair could become blonde, and with many experiments, potions and spells were created.

War passed and I figured it was about time to move on, then the notice of my contractor's passing came to me, I had never come to acquire any relation to the man or a closer relationship to the family, so I paid my respects and proceeded to find a new activity. I tried various skills and hobbies to entertain myself when something caught my attention, I would practice it and make the best of it, if one ended up sticking with me, it would somehow manage to get screwed up. I tried entering the cooking business and working in a bakery, I then found that the owner of the bakery had entered an illegal business and the products I was selling, supported organ black market dealings, and my coworker was having a relationship with the owner that was already married.

A large number of years passed in which I only perfected my magic and found nothing but utter disappointment in the human culture, they would only repeat the same mistakes, of course, I had not lived enough to say much but my experience was enough to form my opinion. In the time I spent working on myself I got to see more of my father around, although not in the way I would have liked, after a long party he would come home and nap on the couch, whenever we managed to have a few minutes together, my father would either make chit-chat or space out and walk away in silence, as for any other event, well nothing worth telling happened.

I then found myself in the year 1980, the world had truly changed and I had taken the decision to enter high school, it was not only the urge to occupy myself, but I also was willing to try having a friendship and to live the teen years I never got to live.

The school I enrolled in was called Stanford high and I quickly found my spot in high school life because my goal was to enjoy my late teen years, I made close relationships with some schoolmates, but of course, I could not tell my true story, so my made-up story was one of a high-class young lady that had a traveling father and too much time on her hands. My hair was kept blonde except for a little touch of fuchsia hair in my bangs, anyone could dye their hair in the time, so it was no issue.

My routine was going smoothly and my reputation had become one of a popular girl. It was then that I met the lovely Amber Longstone, her naiveness and nervous stance led me to her like a magnet. On the very same day, I found myself inviting her to a welcome party and staring back at her, which, of course, went unnoticed by Amber. When Amber showed up at my front door I had to make a run to move my room around, so the perfectly done bed and untouched makeup vanity would look like I actually slept in the room since my actual house had magic on every corner and since humans were supposed to be kept in the dark about supernaturals, and a house full of shimmering butterflies and glowing flowers, would not be hiding it at all. After messing up the fake room I jogged towards the front door, of course, I was using the proper glamour to complete the illusion, it took less than a second to realize Amber was gonna need an urgent makeover.

The party was already over when I found a passed-out Amber in one of the guest rooms, I carried her to my fake room and draped a blanket over her.