Luna Raine

XV. Pitiful Cries

Raine′s POV:

"You want to go to the mall?"

"Not just any mall," Helen pauses for dramatic effect. "The second biggest mall in the world!"

"Second?"

She rolls her eyes, "The biggest one is somewhere in Asia." She grabbed my forearm and the chip fell down. "They're opening this new store...with these freaking insane new witch potions."

I cannot believe there are more potions. It seems like witches develop new products every day. Whenever I go to the store, I'm still weirded out about the thought of purchasing magic. Yes, there are freaking magic, spells, or some shit drizzle into each product sold at your local store. My apartment not smelling like a pig farm is proof enough that it's working.

"What do they have there, that we can't buy at the local market?" I'm saving up for this new cleaner that can make stains disappear.

If I ever found a way to go home, I'm buying a butt load of these cleaning products. Mom would love it. Maybe, these scientists in my world can figure out how it works. Or more possibly, they will attempt to kill me for the product.

Helen smiles widen, "They found a way to make acne disappear. One drop per week and boom, baby clear skin."

My eyes narrow, "But, if you run out. Doesn't that mean you have to buy more?"

Then again, it makes sense to find a temporary way to treat consumers' problems instead of solving them. Solving problems doesn't make money. Maintenance is the way to go. Corporations are evil in every world.

"That's why I'm going to buy more than one," she smiles, "And that's where you come in."

"What about me?"

"Well, they only allow one purchase per species."

"Why don't you ask others?" Why me?

"Because my mom doesn't like using too many witch products. You know, her desire to distance herself from them and all. Also, everyone I know wants one of their own and no one would get one for me." She blew a breath towards her forehead, removing the rows of bangs. Behind the dark short locks rests small red bumps. Not large enough for someone to notice, but big enough for the person who has it to stare at it every day. She pouts, "You wouldn't know the struggles of having acne because you don't have any."

I never had a single acne in my life. When I started middle school, I waited but nothing happened. Everyone around me seems to have grown something, but my baby's skin is still intact. I assume I hit the genetic lottery because my dad's side of the family never has it. Not the same can be said for my mom's side.

Helen plays with the tip of her fingers, "And you can't purchase another one until you return their bottle. You're in their system the moment you make your first purchase too."

There are alot of corporations who keep track of their customers. It isn't the corporation that wants to do it, but the law demands it. They don't want someone to hog too much of one product. A small dosage of something isn't bad, but too much of it can be dangerous.

I'm in the system at my local market. Every time I purchase something, they ensure that I don't buy too much of one magical product.

"Alright. I'll go with you."

Helen claps her hands, "Yay!"

"When are we going?"

"Tomorrow."

"What?"

Helen scratches her head, "Well, the second-largest mall in the world may or may not be on the other side of the country and the opening is this weekend." My eyes widened at her declaration. I've never even stepped outside of the human community except for when I was hospitalized. "Don't worry. There is a train that will take us straight from here to there—only a few stops. We don't have to leave the train. They have food, a bathroom, and a room for us."

Helen and Cory know how I feel about leaving the human community. I don't feel safe doing it.

"What about school?" I ask.

"You skip school all the time."

"Yeah, for work. For an income."

"We can leave Thursday night and come back Monday morning." Helen smiled, "And I'll pay for everything."

When she bit her lower lip, I can tell she really wants the potions. I understand it, the insecurities inside all of us. Heck, even I have it. We all do. This morning, when I woke up, I couldn't stop staring at the blackhead on my nose. It's so small that it's considered nonexistent but not to me. I'm certain it's the same for Helen.

"All right. Just let me give my boss a heads up."

Helen squeals, and leap into my arms. "Thank you! Thank you! And if your boss wonders why you can tell him to talk to me."

I pat her back, "What in the world can you tell my boss?"

"I will tell him the greatest friend in the whole world is helping me with my insecurities. Teenager insecurity is no joke."

I smile, "All right. Let me pack my bag if we're going to be gone for a few days-" I stopped talking when I heard a squeal from the other side of the living.

"I'll ask my parents to take care of Mister Oink." She hugs me again, before leaping off of the couch. "I need to get packing."

When Helen left, I called my boss. The phone clicked, "Hello Peter."

"Hey, Raine. How can I help you?"

"Well, one of my friends needs me for the next few days and I was wondering if I can take sick leave for those days? I'm sorry that it's last minute."

Peter laughs, "When had sick leave ever been informed early?" I can pick up the tease in his voice. "Don't worry about it. Have fun. Message me when you're not sick anymore."

"Thank you so much."

"Have a nice day."

"You too."

Peter is a nice boss. Yes, boss not friend. I prefer to maintain a distance between boss and employee. It's weird how people can become friends with their supervisors even though they have the power to cut off your income.

I threw the phone on the couch and made my way towards the bathroom. I need a shower. I step into the shower, and my body shudders against the cold. The water isn't warming up fast enough.

Closing my eyes, I allow the warm water to engulf every inch of my body. I want to sleep in here, but I also don't want my skin to wrinkle.

I press my head against tiles.

I know this feeling.

That again.

The loneliness.

Usually, it's difficult for people to admit that they're lonely, but not me. So, the routine returns. I crouched down and held my body. Then, the tears burst. I'm grateful for the flow of water, how it blocks out the pitiful cries.