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Authors: Melissa Brown
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to them. You’ll just bump into them at the store or the bus and that will be that,” Clarissa explained.
“What about the whole life-flashing-before-your-eyes thing? You still have to feel who they are and what they will be losing. That can’t be easy to ignore,” I whispered.
“Most of the time I imagine it’s just a short film.”
“Why?”
“I’m not heartless, Madison. I just know we have a job to do, and the less guilt I can feel doing it the better of a grim reaper I can be.”
Out of nowhere my attention turned to Elizabeth entering the equipment room and climbing onto a nearby treadmill. Deep inside of me I could feel it was her time. Her skin looked lighter than before, like the rosiness of her blood had been drained from it. My eyes were glued to her. Time seemed to slow down around me. She smiled as she set the monitor and started her stride.
She glanced in Brad’s direction and gave him a beckoning wave. He started towards her as she lost her footing, tripping over her shoelace. She fell forwards and slammed into the control panel. The belt sped up, twisting her backwards into the brick wall behind her. A crack echoed through the gym as her skull hit the wall. Blood ran down her face and hair, dyeing it a sickly shade of red. Brad rushed to her side, knelt down next to her and tried to stop the bleeding with his hands. My stomach felt hollow and I wanted to throw up. My mission was accomplished: Elizabeth Daily was dead.
Chapter 8
The guilt of Elizabeth Daily’s death still weighed heavy on me when Clarissa dropped me off at my apartment. I stared at my feet as I climbed the stairs, each step feeling like my feet were cast in cement boots. I finally understood what Skye Hawke had felt in her origin issue, when she accidentally killed her sister's murder. Finding out you could kill someone with the flick of your wrist was a disturbing reality. If anyone ever found out what I could do, there would be scientists lining up at my door to study me. I was different, something alien. No one would ever trust me again if they found out. I paused at the landing to wipe my eyes. I could hide this, keep my identity a secret. For now, I needed to rest, enable myself to dream of a world where I wasn’t forced to murder innocent people and could just be normal again.
My hands shook as I placed the key into the lock and pushed open the heavy wooden door. Aaron glanced up from his video game. His eyes hovered on me for a moment before turning back to his screen. I could swear he knew something was the matter, that I had done something horrific.
I dipped my chin to my chest and wrapped my arms around myself as I passed him on my way to my bedroom. He hadn’t spoken to me since yesterday and his cold demeanor seemed to push me further towards breaking point. I slammed my bedroom door shut and blasted music from my laptop. I collapsed onto to my bed, shaking my hair loose from my ponytail like a fiery mane.
I made a cocoon with my blankets. I’d just live here. I could exist on takeaway food for weeks before someone came looking for me. I laid my head on my pillow as tears gathered at the edges of my eyes and wet the fabric beneath me.
I cried for myself, for Elizabeth and for anyone else on my future murder list. Because of me, a woman was dead. She would never fall in love, have children or get to retire. It was my fault. I was slowly turning into a monster, like the rest of my family. How was I supposed to control this? Or live with constant guilt? Everyone around me was a potential victim.
I was startled by a knock at my door.
Aaron opened the door. “Can you turn down the music? It’s giving me a headache,” Aaron said. His eyes locked on me and he asked, “Mads, are you okay?”
“Really bad day,” I whispered, turning over to stare at the wall. “Can you just leave me alone?”
“Is this about our fight?”
“Some of it,” I said.
Aaron tilted his head. “I’ll forgive you but you
“What about the whole life-flashing-before-your-eyes thing? You still have to feel who they are and what they will be losing. That can’t be easy to ignore,” I whispered.
“Most of the time I imagine it’s just a short film.”
“Why?”
“I’m not heartless, Madison. I just know we have a job to do, and the less guilt I can feel doing it the better of a grim reaper I can be.”
Out of nowhere my attention turned to Elizabeth entering the equipment room and climbing onto a nearby treadmill. Deep inside of me I could feel it was her time. Her skin looked lighter than before, like the rosiness of her blood had been drained from it. My eyes were glued to her. Time seemed to slow down around me. She smiled as she set the monitor and started her stride.
She glanced in Brad’s direction and gave him a beckoning wave. He started towards her as she lost her footing, tripping over her shoelace. She fell forwards and slammed into the control panel. The belt sped up, twisting her backwards into the brick wall behind her. A crack echoed through the gym as her skull hit the wall. Blood ran down her face and hair, dyeing it a sickly shade of red. Brad rushed to her side, knelt down next to her and tried to stop the bleeding with his hands. My stomach felt hollow and I wanted to throw up. My mission was accomplished: Elizabeth Daily was dead.
Chapter 8
The guilt of Elizabeth Daily’s death still weighed heavy on me when Clarissa dropped me off at my apartment. I stared at my feet as I climbed the stairs, each step feeling like my feet were cast in cement boots. I finally understood what Skye Hawke had felt in her origin issue, when she accidentally killed her sister's murder. Finding out you could kill someone with the flick of your wrist was a disturbing reality. If anyone ever found out what I could do, there would be scientists lining up at my door to study me. I was different, something alien. No one would ever trust me again if they found out. I paused at the landing to wipe my eyes. I could hide this, keep my identity a secret. For now, I needed to rest, enable myself to dream of a world where I wasn’t forced to murder innocent people and could just be normal again.
My hands shook as I placed the key into the lock and pushed open the heavy wooden door. Aaron glanced up from his video game. His eyes hovered on me for a moment before turning back to his screen. I could swear he knew something was the matter, that I had done something horrific.
I dipped my chin to my chest and wrapped my arms around myself as I passed him on my way to my bedroom. He hadn’t spoken to me since yesterday and his cold demeanor seemed to push me further towards breaking point. I slammed my bedroom door shut and blasted music from my laptop. I collapsed onto to my bed, shaking my hair loose from my ponytail like a fiery mane.
I made a cocoon with my blankets. I’d just live here. I could exist on takeaway food for weeks before someone came looking for me. I laid my head on my pillow as tears gathered at the edges of my eyes and wet the fabric beneath me.
I cried for myself, for Elizabeth and for anyone else on my future murder list. Because of me, a woman was dead. She would never fall in love, have children or get to retire. It was my fault. I was slowly turning into a monster, like the rest of my family. How was I supposed to control this? Or live with constant guilt? Everyone around me was a potential victim.
I was startled by a knock at my door.
Aaron opened the door. “Can you turn down the music? It’s giving me a headache,” Aaron said. His eyes locked on me and he asked, “Mads, are you okay?”
“Really bad day,” I whispered, turning over to stare at the wall. “Can you just leave me alone?”
“Is this about our fight?”
“Some of it,” I said.
Aaron tilted his head. “I’ll forgive you but you
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