unraveled

a broken second

          Nia Switched the moment she closed her eyes, the Joker's words pulling her soul out of her body like a magnet attracting iron filings. She was standing in the little cabin on Ferin Street again. It was warm and homely, a fire burning in the corner. They very fire that never once went out, the fire that she told the boy had come out of Queen Carac's dragon's nostrils. The waft of bread inched its way out of the kitchen, hugging her mother's body. She saw herself and the boy sprawled on the carpet, his head in her lap giggling while she told him the story with the Chicken and the Fish. The house was covered in veins of blankets and covers and string. Outside, it was an autumnal day. It was a day that defined perfection. Shades of brown and red and decay hung in the air. Green grounds frowned as old leaves walked down the tree trunks with their canes and old man smells, laying on the floor to finally rest and die. The shiny sun and the dry grass and fluffy clouds were terms and conditions on a contract signed by nature that nothing bad could or would happen today. There was a rattle in the kitchen, ceramic glass clinking against the stone platform. Nia took one step towards the kitchen, with the next she was standing there in front of her mother watching her mix a fresh batch of dough. Her mother wiped away sweat with the back of her hand and Switched Nia's eyes flooded with tears just at how familiar that action was. She hated herself for ever forgetting the way her mother wiped her sweat, for not constantly thinking about it every moment of her life. She mourned for a piece of her heart she'd lost in her childhood, lost in the knock on the door and the Officer's carriage. As if on cue, there was a knock on the door.

          Nia's heart became the thundering boom of horse's hooves. Her mother quickly wiped her hands on her apron and walked through Nia. It felt like a wave of cold wind and chilly water that was gone as quickly as it had arrived.

          There was a knock on the door, quick and full of anticipation. Everyone in the room tensed, the three of them looking at each other in fear, silently promising that they'd do this together, completely oblivious to Switched Nia's presence. Her mother wringed her hands and opened the door. She was rudely pushed aside, as two guards marched in and took hold of each child. Nia and the boy were quiet, pulling on perfect portraits of well-raised obedient children, who the soldiers didn't have to waste their time humbling with bats and fire. Her mother still lay unconscious on the ground.

          An officer dressed in a neat uniform walked in. His brown hair was neatly brushed backwards, and his beard was neatly trimmed. His red sash hung neatly by his side and his face was cut in neat lines of old age. He nodded to the two guards who walked the children outside. Nia looked for tears to cry in honor of the ones she had held back then but there was nothing. Not a single drop. She remembered not by looking at her youngerself, but by sifting through her memories the acceptance she'd felt, how she'd quietly nodded to the universe and accepted what they threw her way. She hadn't looked back. The boy however forgot all his obedience and began thrashing and screaming and crying. Later, when he was adorned with bruises and cuts and a raw throat he regretted that release.

          The officer had quietly stepped into the cottage and closed the door. No voices came. Nia sat huddled with the boy on one side, their presence almost unnoticeable with the two giants sitting on the seat in front of them. Their massive knees pressed against her bony ones, but she held. After a few minutes, or a quarter of an eternity, the Officer had walked out and replaced the guards. The carriage started moving, passing through the streets and trees and foxes and lakes of their childhood. That day not a single voice was raised on Ferin Street, not a single door had opened. Wooden bats sat untouched by men and the arcs of women's waist were filled with their fisted hands the day the boy and Nia left.

          Nia walked alongside the carriage keeping perfect pace with it, although at the time it had been trotting at a faster, less walkable speed. She peeked in at the one huddled mass and the two prideful figures sitting inside through the windows. Her younger self was sitting straight-backed with her head up, not a single tear in sight, a hand thrown around the boy's back who was resting his head in her lap. Oblivious to her human emotions as she was now. Oblivious to the fact that it was okay to cry and mourn your mother, your life. That it was human to be afraid of the neat man sitting in front of her. Watching herself through rain-stained windows Nia marked those moments in her life as the ones where she had stopped living and started surviving. She breathed not to live but just so she could prepare herself for her next breath. She ate not for taste but because her body needed it. She became less of a person and more of a flesh-filled vessel with one soul purpose - take care of the boy, make sure the boy lives, keep him safe. She stopped creating her own stories, stopped becoming Nia. Instead she plucked them from other people.

          The gears of her mind factory had ceased and was now a dusty storage place where she kept the leftover parts of her soul, the pieces she picked when no one was looking. Her baggage. This part wasn't even about her or her foxes or snow or Cervaux or her mother anymore. It was about other lives, other people, their stories. And even though she mourned the story of her life, she held onto this part with all that she had. Because that's all she really knew how to do. Because-

          The carriage jostled as if calling for her attention. The bright blue roof bobbed as if in surprise and excitement and not because of the bumpy road full of stones and potholes that led out of the village. The symbol of the Carac Kingdom - a circle with five lines intersecting it - stood out like a stamp on a package being delivered. It was painted in an onyx black that wasn't onyx enough bearing a perfect resemblance to the color of the robes and crown of Queen Carac she'd seen in the deck of cards of the village fortune teller. If the cards were to be believed then the queen was a beautiful young woman with rosy cheeks and a dimple smile and pretty brown hair. But everyone in the village had their own idea of what the Queen looked like, so it only seemed plausible that this image was simply what the fortune teller thought the Queen looked like and not her actual appearance. Some swapped her brown hair for chestnut brown and her blue eyes for green - the Queen in Cervaux was not a ruler she was a symbol, a beacon wearing different faces for everyone so much so that she became an amorphous form changing into what the thinker wanted her to be or look like in their mind. She was a distant daydream, theirs to mold and believe. The only thing that kept her from being an illusion was the pieces of news that flew in from Esterham about her wearing too many new jewels on her crown or passing a law regarding the trade of tea. A phantom autumn wind tickled her nostrils, luring her out of her thoughts. Even in her Switched form, Nia got lost in her mind. Her only job was to observe, which despite being an apt observer, Nia was unable to do. She suspected it was because she was told to do it. Because if Nia was told to do something, there were high chances she wouldn't do that and even higher chance that she would do the opposite. The black horses that pulled the coach had been walking too close to the forest. The boy often called her an arrogant turd, she was starting to understand what he meant. 

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Author's Note: (This "Switch" memory isn't finished. I actually wrote a considerate amount on this but I didn't want to post it all in one part. So watch out for a direct pick-up from here in the next part! :) Also I would love to interact with any of you, literally, like just comment or message or talk to me and I will enthusiastically reply. Like even if you just want to say hi or talk about anything going on with the world or your life or give me feedback. A N Y T H I N G would go v much appreciated! I know I'm just another person on the internet and another dreamer on Wattpad but I would love to make friends and get to know even the one person who'll read this! Thanks for reading<3)

Love,
Cora. ✮