The Prophecy

time she turned to look at me. I knew my eyes were huge. Mom never yells. Never. “Geez Mom, that one was a long time coming.” And it was. Mom had been so calm about everything that I was beginning to feel like I was adopted. My own emotions had become so out of control that I was relieved to discover that my perfect mother could snap too. Even if it did hurt to know that it was because of me.

“Star, one of these days, humor and sarcasm won’t be enough to solve every situation, even if temporarily.”

I relaxed against my seat and tuned my gaze back to the window. “I know mom— I know.”

“Then why do you keep fighting us on this?” she looked at me pleadingly, begging to understand.

I debated on whether or not to speak. I was tentative about saying anything that would give away what was really going through my mind. It would just take one slip for my parents to think that I was losing it. “I just want to have a say in something. Everything's changing so fast that I feel like I've been left behind. Like my life is spinning out of control and I don't have a say in the matter. I just want to have some control.”

Her eyes began to water. I didn't think I could deal with her crying. “Pumpkin, I know—”

“No mom, you don't,” I hissed, feeling my volatile emotions shift within me, my anger swiftly pushing to the front. “You don’t know how I feel, you don't know what it's like, and you don't understand what I'm going through. Just give it a rest already and quit treating me like I'm a child with a booboo you need to kiss!” I almost slapped my hand over my own mouth. I paled then immediately flushed with regret over my outburst and the wounded puppy look my mother now wore. The guilt intensified, taking over where the flare of anger resided. I may be sarcastic, but I had never been outright rude or mean to my mother.

My head slammed into the window as Dad turned too fast in his seat, jerking the steering wheel in the process. “Shit!” he turned back to the road, barely missed driving off the cliff, and straight down the sheer drop off of the mountains. He slammed his fist against the steering wheel and shot daggers at me through the rear view mirror. I shrank back from how angry he looked. This was new to me. My dad had never been outright angry with me. “Starlette, I don't care how 'emotional' you are right now! You do not talk to your mother that way!”

“Dad, I don't even know where it came from!” God my head hurt and yelling wasn't helping anything. Neither was the anger that was back in full force. I swallowed, trying to push it down.

“Paul, she didn't mean—”

“Mom! I don't need a savior! Would you just stay—”

“Starlette! Do not talk to your mother—”

“Enough! I've had enough of both of you! Paul, you need to quit switching from being a friend to a parental figure, it doesn't work that way. Starlette, you need to mind your father and watch your attitude. I really don't care for either of your attitudes at the moment, so both of you just need to shut the hell up!” My father and I were both shocked into silence.

I knew Mom was stressed, but I didn't know she was that stressed. It's a good thing to get your frustrations out, and I was happy to see that I wasn't the only one that snapped in my family. Although I'd bet my entire savings that Mom wasn't surprised at all that she snapped. Me? I'm always surprised.

A heavy silence descended upon the car, so I turned my gaze to the town coming up. We finally made it through the mountains without driving off a cliff and dying in a fiery explosion. I was extremely happy about that.

The buildings were made of authentic brownstone with brightly painted awnings and shutters, creating differences between the stores that lined both sides of the street. I could see what looked like apartments above the main floors. I wondered who would ever live above a store, but then reminded myself that this was Shiloh. There were probably inbred families living there, all happily squished together.

A break between buildings sent sunlight streaming straight into my eyes. When I felt like my pupils weren't going to shrivel up and cause permanent blindness, I caught sight of a brightly painted sign, The Nook. What made the sign stand out amongst all the quaint brownstone wasn't the rendition of Pop Art sign, with brightly used colors proudly stating The Nook, but also the hordes of people meandering in and out of the store. I couldn't see much with the sunlight reflecting off of the stores windows. I swear the whole side of it was made of glass. I started to feel like a vampire caught in the sun. Maybe I should start hissing.

I looked forward again, figuring that staring at the vehicles we slowly passed would be a hell of a lot better than becoming blinded by trying to figure out what the store was. With my luck, it was probably a porn shop. It would figure that the only thing that attracted my attention would be a peep show. That's how awesome my life had become.

“Dad, why have I seen at least thirteen different states license plates?”

I could almost feel him rolling his eyes. “The Blue Ridge Mountains are a big tourist attraction for nature lovers. There's hiking galore up here, along with nature trails, bird watching, and camping. People come from all over to spend their summers out here getting rusticated.”

I blinked slowly at him, trying to imagine people actually paying to get ‘rusticated’. I couldn't fathom it. Really, I couldn't. Sure I understood that some people loved to go hiking and enjoyed being in nature, but I never understood those types of people. Yes, nature was pretty, but I just wasn't the type that would enjoy becoming 'rusticated'. I shook my head and turned my gaze away.

“You could at least try to take an interest in what Shiloh has to offer.” He stated bitterly.

“Like that will ever happen.” I whispered under her breath.

“What?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“What?” My innocent, deer in headlights look was totally lost on him. I needed to work on that if I was ever going to be as good as my mother.

“You said something.”

“When?”

“Just a second ago.”

“Oh, What?”

“You said something— just a second ago, what was it.” Traces of anger starting to flush his neck.

“What.”

“God damn it, Star! What did you say a second ago!?” he slammed the steering wheel which caused the car to jerk again. I placed my palm against the window, not wanting a repeat of my head embracing the glass. I really wish he would quit doing that.

“What!” I nearly shouted now, trying hard to hold back a grin. My mother, on the other hand, couldn't quite hold back her laughter.

“What?” he asked her harshly.

“Exactly!” I threw my arms up in my excitement. Mom's laughter rang throughout the car, making me feel warm and fuzzy. She had that ability. With just one smile she could brighten my day. When she laughed, it's like being embraced by a giant, fluffy unicorn. Dad rolled his eyes at us and turned to concentrate broodily on driving. Mom turned in her seat and gave me a wink, her violet eyes alight with laughter. I smirked in return, then turned back to the view, feeling better than I had in ages.

I could feel a frown forming as I tried to remember the last time I was truly happy. Sure, I was amused often, and occasionally I got those warm happy feelings. But I couldn't remember the last time that happiness actually stayed, or wasn't underlined with fear. I know that as you get older happiness isn't as easy to come by, but I'm seventeen, not thirty-five. You'd think it would be a couple of years until my happiness started to dissipate.

It seemed like everything started to fade after my sixteenth birthday. Like I woke up and found a darkness in me, a side I never knew existed. All of a sudden I was just getting pissed off for no reason. Sometimes I could control it, but more and more it seems like it’s beginning to control me, which scares the hell out of me. That's why I call it my darkness. It's all-consuming, bleak. It feels like it's spreading inside of me. Like an obsidian poison working through my system. Devouring who I am. Who I was. That's what scares me the most. I'm forgetting who I am and becoming something, but I don't know what that something is.