The Powers

Chapter 2

Before I was discharged from the hospital, social services had found the next of kin – Declan. Apparently he was too busy with work to come out to visit his only serviving niece, or attend his brothers' family funeral.

Then when I was finally discharged – after numerous eye tests, brain scans and psych evaluations, because I was seeing things ( and still am) – I was handed a plane ticket to Ireland by a social worker, and bundled onto the plane. She was a nice woman with her sleek blonde hair in a tight no-nonsense updo. Not a hair out of place. She had a pretty face with laughing blue eyes. She was colored pink with slight streaks of red.

So thats how I found myself on a nine hour flight to Ireland, surrounded by noisy children and exhausted adults. I selpt most of the way, the rest was spent gazing a feathery clouds in suspended animation above the sea. The water capped with white horses. Eventually blending into a patchwork of bright and forest greens and cornflower yellow. Clusters of houses dotted here and there. I think we passed over a city, but it was tiny compared to Miami, Orlando or New York.

Finally the plane landed, and there was the usual pushing, shoving and complaining that accompanies embarkment and luggage collection. I had no idea where I was going, so I followed a group of students who didn't sound American, and were talking about families and christmas. My heart gave a sqeeze at the thought of never having that again. I surpressed the tears that threatened, squared my shoulders and hurried to catch up with the students. They were all colored different shades of orange, yellow, blue and green.

I was facsinated by the way the colored lights pulsed, throbbed and intertwined playfully. What is this I'm seeing? It's unreal!

Unfortunately the group bundled into a couple of taxis and were gone. The paper the social worker had given me said I was to wait at the airport pick up station for Declan.

An hour later and I was still waiting. It was late afternoon, heading to evening and the breeze was freezing, cutting through my jeans, t-shirt and light jacket. I didn't think anywhere could be as cold as the Artic, not that I've been there. But I think Dublin airport comes close. I was half expecting icicles to be hanging from some part of me, like the guy in the movie Anastasia.

I'd had enough of standing around in this Artic wind so I got a taxi. Why I was to wait at the airport, when Declans address was on the paper I have no idea.

“Where to love?” asked the cheery driver. He was colored honey yellow.

“Um, Red cap avenue, off Red cap roundabout.” I read off the paper.

“Ohh, aye. I know the place. Now what would bring a nice girl like you to a place like that?”

“Family. What do you mean “a place like that?””

“Ohh, nothing. Just a bi' of a dodgy place is all. Not a place a lass like you would want to stay out at night”

“Right I'll keep that in mind.” I said looking out the window, watching the airport slowly shrink into the distance.

Conversation was somewhat stunted on my part on the drive to Declans. The driver – whose name was Christy – was quite chatty. He talked nonstop, pointing out buildings and monuments, the best places to go, and occasionally asking questions like where I was from and if I had ever been to Dublin brfore. When I said no, he started pointing and explaining things.

When we finally got the apartments, I handed him the cash. He pointed to the building I was to go to and said “Mind yourself now lass, don't linger around outside for too long now, will you?”

His colors had changed. They were still honey but streaked with turquoise. Concern crinkled his brow, so I nodded and thanked him. As I got out, he smiled. “Take care lassie.” And was gone.

I checked the paper, number 12, and dragged my two suitcases toward a slightly dilapidated looking building.

I pressed the buzzer and was let in. Somehow I managed to struggle up the narrow staircase. On the secong floor half landing, the bulbs were blown, casting the place in deep shadows. I could sense rather than see two people in the darkest corner.

And they weren't friendly. An unsteady, sinking feeling filled my stomach. I stayed as far away from the walls as the narrow half landing allowed, while manoeurvering two bulky suitcases. I kept my eyes downcast.

A shadow detached itself from the corner, and barred my way. The guy was dressed all in black with honey – blonde hair slicked back with too much gel. His face was in shadow, but I could feel him leering at me.

“Well, hello there.” His voice was as slick as his hair, oil on water. A soft chuckle from the corner. “A little mouse.”

Ohh great. Just great. How do I get out of this? This is the last thing I need!

“Yes. Has the little mouse lost her way? Hmm?”

“perhaps we could show her the way.” The voice in the corner drawing closer to my left. I took a step back, praying I didn't trip and fall down the stairs.

Leave me alone! Get out of my way!

They crowded closer, herding me back against the wall. I could see their colors now; a slow, writhing mass of dull gray black, drawn tight against their limbs. They looked sick, in pain.

And I could see what they intended to do to me. Ohh, god. No! Please no!

I knew that I wasn't the first either, and I certainly wasn't going to be the last. Please no!

The one on my left pulled me close, I cringed away, which made them laugh. They were going to enjoy this, They enjoyed my fear. They got off on it.