Awakening

TWO

SYDNEY AURUM was nothing special, at least she’d never thought so. 

The only thing that made her ‘different’ from all the other kids she’d grown up with was the fact that  she’d been adopted. But even that wasn’t anything special, really, because ever since Sydney could remember, she’d known she and she’d been ok with it. 

She had a normal childhood, with normal parents, normal friends and a normal social life. Sydney was the definition of normal; that is until a fews weeks ago, when a girl only a few years older than her had shown up on her doorstep with a key to a storage box that had belonged to her biological parents. 

With a sigh, Sydney tightened her grip on her rucksack—which held the contents of the now empty storage box— and closed her eyes as she tried to drift off to sleep. 

“Sydney Aurum?” A girl with chocolate coloured skin stood on Sydney’s doorstep, an eyebrow raised in expectation. 

“That’s me…”  Sydney crossed her arms giving the girl a once over, her eyes lingering briefly on the three jagged scars on her neck. 

“I’m Braedon,” the girl announced drawing Sydney’s gaze back over to her face. 

Sydney just nodded jerkily, her mind screaming at her that something was different about the girl in front of her—and it wasn't just the three scars across her neck and upper chest. There was something off about Braedon and Sydney knew, somehow, that Braedon wasn’t just here for a social call; she was here on business and she was going to turn Sydney’s world upside down. 

“I’m here to tell you about your birth parents.” 

Sydney jolted awake as the bus went over a rocky part of the road, her head banging painfully against the window. She let out an eclectic range of curse words before sitting up straight and abandoning sleep. It wasn't like it was helping much, anyway. She always dreamt of the same thing: Braedon announcing and those nine words and proceeding to give her a key to a storage unit that held a letter and a book from her parents.

Combine those three things with the knowledge that her adoptive parents knew about everything all along, it was enough to tilt Sydney’s perspective of reality and fantasy enough that she no longer could see the difference between the two. 

“Son of a bitch!” She swore in frustration pulling out the letter she had almost memorised and, in the process, completely ignoring the filthy look the woman a few seats away shot her. 

My dearest daughter, 

If you are reading this, it means your father and I have long been gone and that you have finally come of age in our world and that your powers are slowly coming into fruition. I am so sorry, my dearest Sydney, that we did not have the pleasure of raising you into the wonderful woman that I am sure, from within the deepest corners of my heart, you have grown to become. But know that we did watch you grow, we watched you grow and we cannot be prouder of who you have become and who you will be in the future.