the things stitched beneath our skin
Then I remembered how she was - fiery, ruthless, smart,
and despite herself very caring, not a person who hurts anyone.
― Mike Bond, Killing Maine
She gazes down at the garden through the window on the second floor, right next to the attic. Inhaling slowly and deeply, she takes in the scene before her, the girl's energy circling in the air and lifting, gradually as if the fog on an early September morning when the air is cool and still after the heated lazy weather, just from the previous day. It moves up gently and sticks to everything for few moments just before disappearing completely. She touches the glass surface curiously and embraces the energy, filtering it and allowing it to shift under the skin and into the muscles, its vibrations almost tickling her blood. It felt like sunrays and melancholy. It felt like something that had been in slumber for a very long time. She crosses her arms and feels a sudden chill penetrate the white, long-sleeved shirt that she is wearing, causing goosebumps to appear on her tan bare legs covered only with thin cotton shorts in the same color. Will she be able to control it, so it will not rule her? She was not sure but knew that she believed in that girl. This one would not go without a fight.
After a moment, she absentmindedly lifts one hand and runs her fingers through the thick, brown shoulder-length hair, eyes following the lines of Ray's strained back and the sore muscles as she concentrates on the task at hand. It won't be easy for her, but she must train and fight it, dominate it. She must. It was the only way for it not to consume her entirely. She had to build up a wall and guard herself against the things that slept in the vessel that was her body. Things that craved, to once again rise and devour all in their way. And then there was the other issue, the big pink elephant in the room that they pretended not to notice. She saw it for some time now. Observing like that young, confident woman that came into their lives seemed to affect Ray. Yes, she saw it the very first time that woman stepped into her cafe. That aura of hers, constructed of unnamed notions and multicolored matter, pretty much screaming and flashing red lights, urging her to run or at least take some form of action.
Though she chose not to judge just yet, sensing also other things that lurked under the elegant and cold exterior. Yes. She felt the strength, power, and even deep layers of good somewhere underneath it all. Sensing a contrasting need for harmony, mixed with overwhelming chaos trapped into just one mortal body that consisted of many lifetimes, a heart of a warrior, and a soul of a conquer that was not allowed to ever truly, find peace.
She closes her eyes for a while and whispers the name in the otherwise empty space, memories and pictures overflowing the mind that never rests. A tiger lily represents pride. This courageous flower states confidence and not arrogance or vanity. It is a noble creation of earth and beauty filled with unmeasurable strength. Hmm, such strange, complex energy to take in. Neither one nor the other, but everything at once. She had met the likes of her, but never as powerful, never as shattering with the possibilities of who they could become. With eyes still closed, she traces her fingers slowly against the windowsill. Mmm, lilies, the flowers that symbolize a new life and rebirth. Yes, how fitting. And the strangest thing of all? In a way, she liked her, rather a lot, actually, despite all that she sensed from her. Something about her that made her naturally gravitate to that woman. Something unexpectedly familiar. And if she was, to be honest, she loved to observe her reactions and contrasting body language, as if studying a dangerous species that somehow manifested levels of softness when it thought that it wasn't being watched.
Fascinating in ways.
Hmm, such energy to take in was a challenge, but she did it anyway, almost with open arms. Sensing, feeling, and perceiving the world slightly differently than everyone else did. It was a gift of hers since she could remember. To sense other people's life force and to know if they were a threat or not, if they deserved the trust and kindness to put into them, to invest other things that she had to offer. She shifts her arms and gazes down at her hands. There was never a hundred percent clear explanation for the abilities in her family or why they happened. But she also knew that each gift was unique, and she was to respect her abundance no matter what it would graze her with and how greatly.
It was her destiny, and questioning her legacy was pointless. Plus, her mother and aunts would always make sure to remind her of that whenever she fell into a rebellious stage. Each time she would have pressed, argued, and fought the rules and restrictions, not fully accepting what had been bestowed on her by the ancestors. Mel had not always been the way that she was now. No, she had much less calm in her and more feistiness swimming around in those veins, with plenty more sharp edges and thorns, her mind never stopping even for a second, constantly moving and wanting to learn new things. So yes, for many years, she would battle against the things she was born with, the things that felt like they could have held her back and restrain, in many ways. Mel did not want to be controlled by the ones close to her, even though she loved them endlessly.
But it all changed when she met Ben, her husband of eight years and a kindred spirit she never even dared to ask for, not imagining that such an unconditional and filling her to the brim love could even exist in this life. He brought something with him that she always yearn for; calm and peace, a steady grounding for her thoughts and heartbeats. Only then did she fully accept her gifts and powers. Her eyes reluctantly return to the girl as she punches the ground and falls down to the grass, irritation visible in every part of her body. Her loud shouts and swearing just from seconds before bringing Mel back to the present moment. Oh, Ray. She was trying and making an effort, but it was all so new to her. She yet had to learn how to handle the unwanted abilities.
One last time, Melanie gazes at her delicate but strong hands with deep wonder. Abilities. She tastes the word and thinks about each time that her healing powers came in hand and helped others. She used to be scared of it once and only many years later understood how much good came from it, how many troubled and pained souls she helped, always being subtle and gentle, making sure that the rumor about her gifts would not spread. Knowing just how important it was to stay under the radar. There were so few of those who could understand it without some consequences or obstacles to deal with.
Though, there were a few that did, like Ray.
Mel's gaze turns softer as she thinks about it, knowing that even though the girl did not completely grasp the situation she was in, she still accepted her older friend's unique qualities. Even under the delicate shawl of denial. But still, she did. She smiles tenderly but then quickly loses the joy as she notices the shift of energy, electricity slowly lifting the hair around her neck and shoulders, a sudden cold crawling down the spine and digging into the skin. It has begun. She knows that she was not to prevent it or interfere in any shape or form, yet a slight panic breaks through anyway. It has to happen, and you know it. It's the natural path of things. Let her embrace it on her own. Otherwise, she will never be able to handle it or survive it.
She swallows as Raven's body twists and bends, a circle of golden orange energy beating and pulsating from her body, growing more and more with each passing second. The ink-black hair, floating around the girl's face, light moving from her fingertips and into the earth, making it pulsate and quiver. A sudden change of wind approaches and somehow touches Melanie even through the closed window, causing strands of her hair to move and tickle her face. Once more, but this time with some hesitation, she reaches the glass surface, pressing her palm into it lightly, watching a white light radiate from under the palm of her hand. Energy recognizing energy, and welcoming it as if a long not seen, old friend.
It has begun. There was no doubt about it. Now all that remained was to watch as the events proceeded on their own. She could only assist the girl with guidance and small help, but to truly face it, that was a weight meant only for her shoulders. She rolls her fists and barely stops herself from punching the glass, her back straightening with power. Maybe the above was something she could not fight against and necessary for the greater good. But no matter what, she would never leave her side, not until she decides to push her away, herself. The edginess that still lingers in her blood stirs a bit and jumps, a slow smile lifting and curving the sides of her mouth. Hey, what was the point in rules if you couldn't bend them a little bit once in a while, right?
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