Chapter Two
Now
“Mum! I’m home! Do you want anything to eat? I don’t have much homework tonight because we had study hall today in history,” I called, listening for her response.
I did not hear anything, so I pounded up the stairs and ran into her room. “Mum? Where are you?” I heard a shuffling in the closet, and a little mumble. “Who is there? I have a gun! And I won’t hesitate to shoot!”
My mum comes tumbling out of the closet, with scratches on her legs, arms and handcuffs on her wrists. The chair was tied to the door handle and my mum had a gag around her mouth.
“Mmmmmmmm! Gggttee hmmmm!” I cocked my head at what mum was saying. I couldn’t understand anything.
“What? Here, let me get the gag off of your mouth,” I reached over and untied the gag, then I did the same for her hands and feet. Where the ropes were, there were bloody scratches, and her pure white socks that she had put on this morning were a deep, dark blood red, almost a reddish-brown.
“I told you to get out of the house! I don’t need your help! You were supposed to get out of the house when you were eighteen, that’s the deal that we made, and you were never supposed to come back! GET OUT!” Mum yelled at me, I didn’t know what she was talking about, but I knew that whatever she said was not about me, because I was still in highschool. A freshman, actually.
“Mum, do you know what you are talking about? I didn’t do anything to you, and I am not eighteen, I’m only fifteen,” I say, a dreaded feeling spreading through my stomach. I back up slowly, and my mum gets up.
“Mom? What are you doing? I am your only son! Right?” I yell, scared now. I run towards the door and start to yank it open, but my mom jumps on my back and pulls me backwards by my hair. “Mom! Let go!”
“Never, I will never let you go. You are not supposed to be here, and if you came back, I said I would kill you. I am going to kill you now,” mom says, in the nastiest tone of voice I could imagine.
“How are you going to kill me?”
“I am first going to tie you up in the chair that you just tied me up in, then I will cut off your hands, then your eyes, then your lips and I will scar our cheeks,” she said, a horrible grimace on her face.
“What about my ears?”
“I am going to leave your ears because you are going to hear the whispers, the comments, you will hear the screams of those around you, staring at you because of your lips, eyes, hands and your scars. Just like you were going to do to me.”
The window broke. Glass was scattered everywhere, and one bit flew into my mums head. Her head was bleeding badly and she was unconscious. The person who broke the window, I assumed, jumped in off of the roof.
Her hair was down to her waist, and was tied back in a high ponytail, the chocolate brown color was like a waterfall down her back. Her skin was a porcelain white, and seemed fragile, she had a trim waist, and she had black leggings on, dark brown leather boots that went up to just above her knee, a white tank top and a tight leather jacket. Her eyes were a deep forest green, but had a gold ring around her eyes.
I felt pinned to the floor by her gaze, but as her gaze slowly went to my mum, she gasped. The knife she pulled out of her belt that was trapped around her waist was giant. She took a step closer and I gaped, thinking she was going to slit my mum's throat, but she only cut the rope off of her hands.
The girl turned immediately around and pulled me up by my arm. I lurched up, the chair still tied to my hands and feet, and I was awkwardly standing, my back was bent. She bent over and cut the rope. The chair clattered to the ground and I let out a sigh of how it felt to stand up straight.
“Who are you?’ I ask.
“I am Julia,” she says, not giving any hints about anything else about you.
“Why did you save me? What are you? How did you get up to the roof? I’m hungry, are you? Can we go get coffee, now?” I ask, my mind spinning around and around. She just stood there, staring at me, overwhelmed by the amount of questions I was flinging at her.
“I saved you because that is my job. I am your Guardian, and I jumped up to the roof. I am not hungry, because I never do get hungry, nor thirsty. You can go get coffee now, but beware of Daemons, and Ghosts. The will chase after you and you have no defenses.”
“What happened to my mum?” I ask, my stomach contracting.
“Your mum, well, she was possessed by a Daemon. Daemons have always taken over witches.”
“Why did you kill my mom?”
“I had to. Your life was in danger, and my job is to keep your life safe until you are trained. Is that all of your questions?”
“No. I have one more. Can I ask it?”
“You just did.”
“No! I mean after that one.”
“Fine,” she huffed, annoyed with me.
“Can we go get coffee?”
“You can. I will be following behind you silently. If I get hurt, or am taken down by Daemons, make sure to run to the nearest place with the most people. Do not forget that, charge.”
“Okay,” I say, meekly, wondering why she was calling me Charge. I walk over to my desk, grab my coat, slip on my shoes and shove my sockless feet into them.
I end up tripping, and ramming into the door. I turn around sheepishly, expecting my Guardian to be right behind me, but I find no one.
I open the door and run through the house and the door flies open with me running straight through it and slamming it behind me. I slip on to my bike and start pedaling madly, to the nearest McDonalds.
“Where is it? I don’t see anything anymore, but it used to be right here!” I muttered to myself, as I was walking in circles in the parking lot where the McDonalds used to be.
“Guardian! Julia! Please, come help! I am in trouble!” I yell, my voice cracking. No one shows up. Not even the mysterious Guardian.
What has just happened to me over the past hour hit my gut. I curled up into a small ball and starting bawling. My mom was dead, I had no place to live, and I was being chased by Daemons.
“Aww. Sweetheart, what is the matter? Why are you crying?” a wavery old voice floated into my ears, the sound wonderful.
“No-nothing. I-I-I’m n-n-not cry-crying. I pr-promise,” I said, tears still making their way down my cheeks. I kept my head bent, hoping that the old woman wouldn’t see through my lie.
“Now, now. You know better than to lie to an old woman like me,” she says, chiddingly.
“No one. My dad ditched us when I was seven, and my mom just died,” I decided that I wouldn’t tell her all of what just happened with the Daemons.
A cold rush of air brushed over the back of my neck, and I remembered that Ghosts drop the air around them ten degrees. The air before felt ten degrees hotter than the temperature now. I nervously took a step back, thinking that I could run and she wouldn’t catch me. Suddenly a figure drops from the sky above me, and I jump back.
The figure turns her head, and says one word, “Run.”
