The Dark Miracles

Chapter 4

I woke up on a cold, unforgiving concrete floor, disoriented, and struggling to recognize the harsh reality that surrounded me. 

Through the jagged metal bars surrounding me, I catch a glimpse of four houseguards with guns right  on the other side. I shift a bit to try and sit up, but a throbbing ache pulses through my head-- a brutal souvenir of the chaos that led to this moment.

I look around the empty cell, finding nothing but myself. 

I was still in the dress I'd put on before meeting with my father, but my shoes were taken from me. They couldn't have possibly thrown the President's daughter into a cell, under whose authority?

One of the guards shuffles up to the bars, his words slicing through the air. "Serina Vidris, you are a proven Mirac and displayed hostility to Kidran figures. Your execution date is January 17th."

"That's in two days. All Miracs are granted a week in their cells," I muttered weakly. But the house guard merely scoffed to himself.

"Actually, it's in one. Welcome to Monday, traitor."

I eye him down as he gives me a cunning smile. "Where are my parents?"

"Since you didn't wake up after your little show yesterday, they told us to notify them when you woke up, which I just did."

I don't reply to him. I just sit in my silence and try to calm myself down. There has to be a way to get out of a situation such as this one. An unsettling silence enveloped me as I pondered my predicament. How had the public reacted to this scandal? The daughter of President Vidris, the number one enemy of Miracs, is revealed to possess those very abilities. The irony, in its cruelest form, hung over me, and all I could muster was a low chuckle.

It's quite the situation that I've gotten myself into. The only thing I can do is laugh. What else can I do? The houseguards keep their stares at the wall, ignoring my chuckles from behind the metal bars. I continue to laugh until the loud creaking of a metal door echoes throughout my cell. My laughter ceases, and my attention falls to the door.

I watch as my parents enter the dimly lit room.

"Mother!" I exclaimed, rushing towards the bars, pleading for her warmth. But she remained still, her obvious distress plastered across her face.

My father, however, displayed raw fury. "You are a traitor. You laugh in the face of the people that made you who you are today," he says, his words cutting through the air, branding me a disgrace. The weight of his accusation felt like a punch to the gut, and tears welled in my eyes, I could feel a pitiful pain gnawing at my core.

"I'm your daughter," I argued, but his response, laden with contempt, shattered my already fragmented spirit.

"You're a Mirac."

His words were a relentless assault on my identity, he reduced me to a mere category, a Mirac, undeserving of his acknowledgment or love.

My mother's silent tears mirrored mine, her unspoken sadness echoing the helplessness of our situation. My father's command to the guards to remove him from my presence felt like the final stab in an already bleeding wound. Before he could exit, I asked one question, "Where is Favor?"

He pauses and turns his head slightly towards my direction.

"You'll be with her very soon."

He pivots himself forward and leaves the space. I feel my body go limp.

She's gone.

My mother remained still for a moment before turning to the guards who had been watching me. "I require a moment with my daughter," she commanded.