Leave {z.m.}

Fifty Three

One month later...

He's still different, and I wish that there was something I could do to change him back to who he truly was. He wasn't like...that. I know that's not who he was, regardless of me not knowing him for as long as I should've as his sister. Harry had disappeared once we entered Ireland and visited with Greg, and there was nothing I could do to stop him. Niall had suggested using magic to control him,  but he and I both know that using magic in that manner wouldn't exactly be productive. Whatever may be occurring, he was here to help now, and I was grateful. An inexplicable premonition still lingered though.

Now was the time, the time to face Gemma. The time to claim my strength. The time for her ending, and a new beginning. Zayn was coming back; I was going to get him back. "Addie?" Harry peeked in curiously through the gap between my bedroom door and its frame. "Yeah?" I replied absentmindedly as I pondered how life wouldn't just pick up and go on once Zayn arrived. It wouldn't be normal. Definitely not. Would Zayn want to come back, or was I alone on this?

"Called her," he informed me, referring to Gemma, and I nodded wearily in response. I knew that I wasn't entirely ready for this now that it was here. I had been preparing, dreaming, and fighting for this day. The day I'd avenge the deaths of numerous people who'd meant so much to me. Was I actually ready though, or had I gotten too caught up in the possibility of my future with Zayn? What if this doesn't work after all? What if I was far too naive? 

I'd asked Harry to call Gemma and convince her that he wanted to know more about her and himself; he regretted not knowing his elder sister. Of course, family was important to him, all of his family. This would hopefully draw her to him, and this would set the plan into motion; yesterday's preparation for battle would be today's victory (or so I'd been assuming in optimism). "We should leave now. I told her to meet me-" "I know what you told her, Harry. I'm the one who created this plan, remember?" I snapped and with a single flick of my index finger, the door slammed shut, nearly smacking into his face.

My mood swings were growing out of control; I felt guilty afterwards, but in the moment, I had no sense of penitence or rationale. "Did you tell her that we need to leave?" I heard Niall question Harry suspiciously from outside my door, and I instantaneously appeared beside the two of them. Niall flinched slightly while Harry proceeded to proffer his usual smirk. "Sorry," Niall cleared his throat, "I'm not used to your magic yet."

"Well, that makes two of us," I remarked, gathering my coat hanging off the side of the stairs' railing before teleporting to the bottom in a split-second. "She's on her bitchy-witchy period again," Harry commented, clearly as amused about it as he always was. "Coming?" I hollered, though they could hear me perfectly fine if I spoke normally. Greg strode into the hallway from the kitchen, and gave a slight nod before opening the front door for the four of us.

I eyed the cylinder form of the stake pressing against Greg's taupe colored shirt, as it was attached to his belt underneath. Could he do this? Was he willing to do this? "We'll have to wait and see," Harry muttered, regarding my internal inquiries. I was still waiting for the day when he wouldn't be able to read my thoughts. 

We decided to leave my car where it was parked as we ventured off to the meeting location: my college. Though I didn't want to cause any further damage to the inside, the vengeful ration of my mind found murdering Gemma in the place of Zayn and Xavier's deaths quite pleasing. "There's no turning back now, Addie," Niall reminded me, as he had been for the past couple of days. I knew he was worried out of his mind, especially for the safety of his brother, but I couldn't do much to assure him anymore. He just simply had to believe me.

It wouldn't take long to get to our destination if I'd agreed to teleporting all of us there, but I didn't want to strain my magic. Obviously, my more vindictive side had no problem with it. I probably had a split-personality disorder. I wasn't completely myself. It was too late to search for change; the darker side had to win for now.