Lost Secrets (BWWM)

Chapter Sixteen

The closeness I felt to Warin the night I showed him my story is indescribable. I showed him parts of me that no other person on earth outside of Marion knows. Dylan is the closest thing to a sister, to family, that I have and even she doesn't know. For years I believed it was something no one could handle but me. They weren't strong enough, they would see me differently, they would pity me - all things that I would tell myself to weasel my way out of coming clean and facing the fact that I'm a murderer. And what's worse, I liked it.

I liked the feelings of power and revenge. I loved feeling their fear rush through me, dripping down my skin like fresh warmed icing over moist cake. I enjoyed hearing their screams, felt justified in knowing their parents would come home to see them there burnt to a crisp. I felt like they deserved it. No discipline, no consequences, too many breaks, too much privilege - they raised monsters and they deserved to see the fruits of their labor.

The morning after telling Warin and coming to the realization that I'm a sociopath, I looked in the mirror and finally said it. I was finally honest with myself. I'm a murderer and if I had it to do all over again I wouldn't change a thing.

The "good" side of me struggles with this, according to Warin. He thinks it's why I have the nightmares. He believes a small part of me feels guilty and maybe he's right, but the fact remains that my decision to kill Jeremy and Jeremiah isn't one I will ever regret. For what they did to me they deserve much worse than what they got. The two of them stole more from me that night than they could ever even attempt to replace. My innocence, my naivety, my trust in myself and the people I assumed I could believe in around me were all ripped from me. The biggest of all the things they took, because of my own rush to distribute 'justice', my parents were taken from me.

It's something I doubt I will ever fully get over, the guilt that my decisions caused my parents' deaths, but I can rest assured knowing they forgive me. I know that they understand the impossible position I was put in at such a young age and that they understand why I did what I did. I can never get back what was lost, its a hard reality but one I struggled to face for the second half of my life. For years I think I held out hope that if I could just suffer in silence for long enough, pay enough penance, take enough lashes, my parents could come back. It sounds silly to think about it now but it's one of the things that kept me silent for so long. I thought I was paying my dues.

After everything happened, I confronted Marion and was turned away. It's another nightmare that reoccurs. I think it's my body's way of reminding me of the past, reminding me that I have unfinished business with one of the most evil witches to grace this earth. Reminding me that there's always a price when you fight dirty.

Marion murdered my doppelgänger, my great aunt Sabine, for power. She slaughtered my coven, men, women, and children - for power. She took advantage of a broken traumatized sixteen-year-old girl and killed my parents - all for power. She left me in the dust, probably to go find a magic siphoning spell that would actually work, and I was left to pick up the pieces on my own. My mind won't let me allow myself to forget that Marion has a tab due with me.

I began training myself immediately, learning spells and expanding on the teachings and techniques my parents had the chance to teach me before their passing. I wanted to be able to protect myself against any foe - magical or otherwise. I promised myself I wouldn't allow myself to get hurt again in any way. Magic became a shield, a guard against the outside world and my refuge when I needed it. I threw myself into it. Any time not dedicated to finishing my final school years was spent diving into my magical studies, learning all I could. 

The first thing I learned to perfect was a persuasion spell. I needed the emancipation paperwork I filed to go through without question. The paperwork was dated before my parents passed so I would be emancipated from them and able to live on my own. As long as no one asked any extra questions or brought any attention to the forged documents I would be in the clear.