Like the Darkness, but not the Darkness (A Gone series fan fiction)

Tortured Souls (Chapter Fourteen)

Ivy could do nothing but pace for the whole next day.

She had too much on her mind to stand still, or do any work either. Her hands would start shaking and she'd throw down whatever she'd do in frustration before stalking off.

Kim had already sent her many strange looks, though she didn't mention anything- and was always there to take care of Alice and Deon.

God bless her heart.. Ivy thought, chuckling a bit as she kept pacing.

The biggest thing on her mind was her hands. A minute didn't pass where she wouldn't stare at her hands for a couple seconds, speculating what exactly they could do.

Death death death.

The words still rung in her head, the words that the random voice in her head had said right after she'd murdered the two guinea pigs.

Schizophrenia and other severe mental diseases. Those were what Ivy was set on blaming for the voice. But because of the wall, because of the lack of adults- it wasn't like she'd get any help.

There were no doctors she could see, and telling people would only freak more people out.

It would be her secret. She'd deal with it by herself.

I can do it.. She encouraged herself half-heartedly, pausing from her pace to run her fingers through her hair.

Then her hands froze, slowly inching out of her hair and back in front of her face.

The hands that killed two guinea pigs. The hand that emitted her power.

"I still don't know anything for sure. It could have been a freak accident, a fluke." Ivy mumbled softly to herself.

She already knew what she had to do to prove it a fluke.

She had to touch another living thing.

Just at the thought her hands started shaking, and she could feel her eyes start to get watery and her body break out in sweats.

Ivy was scared of herself. Scared of what she might be able to do.

Checking for the millionth time that day, Ivy found that her new pair of leather gloves she'd swapped out with the old wool pair were still perfectly in place. It wasn't as comfortable as the wool gloves, but those had started unraveling when she'd accidentally cut a thread while cutting up lunch.

Whenever she flexed her hands, pain still shot up and down her fingers. But her feet only had slight pains whenever she walked, so little she only noticed them if she payed attention.

Running, stomping, jumping and going up and down the stairs still hurt enough that she winced, though just barely know.

She was healing.

But she didn't check her hands or feet, she wouldn't change the gauze.

She refused to look at what would soon turn into ugly scars that would plague her hands and feet.

Groaning into her hands, Ivy glanced behind her at the house. Right now she was in the backyard, where she normally could be found.

Ivy thought of the house as a danger zone now, where at any time a child could come zipping at you before you could brace yourself and hide your hands.

The backyard was safe, and more private than any other place she could stay.

Ivy guessed that Kim was inside, either entertaining or taking care of her younger siblings. She did far more than Ivy did now-a-days.