Blakeshire (Insight #9)(7)

I knew as soon as I heard this that we were headed down the wrong path, that we needed to be dividing and conquering, not migrating into one easy bull’s-eye, but at that point I had no choice. Willow needed us to get those boys out, and the universe needed us to bring them back to the forefront of the war with evil that we have all been slated to fight.

I planned to split right after that point, but Charlie talked me into staying by calling out my weakness, by saying that I wanted to run from Drake, the boy in my dreams, and I did, but that wasn’t the only reason I wanted to run. I just couldn’t tell Charlie that we had to part, that we had come that far only to say goodbye for a little while. She was scared in her own her way, meaning that Charlie was like me in the sense that as long as she had someone to take care of, she could ignore her own demons. Not a good trait for either of us in the long run.

I figured sticking around a few days wouldn’t bring any harm. I was wrong. So very wrong. Hours after coming to the dimension of Chara, Bianca reared her ugly head and attacked. We survived, but right after that these children, these very special children, put us all to sleep. I woke up in hell.

Well, it felt like hell. I still saw emotions, still felt them, but I saw them in a more vibrant way; I felt them deeper in my soul. Basically, it hurt. The slightest negative emotions would nearly kill me; the blissful ones would make me feel so high that I couldn’t think. I was on a violent roller coaster. I couldn’t think. And I love to think.

I knew I had to get away from everyone, that this was what my soul was warning me about, but Charlie and the others needed me once more to help save the damned, to pull them out of The Realm, a wicked dream plane.

This time when I entered that wicked place, I was pulled into a moment that I’d endured in a past life; it wasn’t fun the first time, and it sucked even worse the second time. It wasn’t all exactly the same, though. This time, Monroe, the young girl that Charlie and I are trying to protect, was pulled in, too. I saw her standing in a fire and did everything in my power to save her. In the end, I did. But as I pulled her from those flames, a force I could not see started to pull from me. The colors I always saw left, and the insane emotions I always felt left.

In its wake, I felt numb—really numb. I almost felt like my soul was surrounded by shrink-wrap; the power was still there, but it was stored away to use at a later time.

After we reached reality once more, Monroe was furious with me—an emotion I had never once witnessed in her before. Somehow, she threw a wave of energy over me, saying something like ‘Compromise,’ followed by ‘She doesn’t want to feel emotions that she feels she has no right to deal with—request granted.’

All of that was out of character for Monroe; she had always been quiet, blissful, and deep with the words she did choose to say. So, I didn’t take this temper tantrum lightly. I knew there was a double meaning to what she had said.

I couldn’t fathom how Monroe had the power to toy with my insights.

I have no doubt that everyone here thinks I’m broken, that all my supernatural gifts have been stripped, but I think this is a time-out, a crossroads. That maybe Monroe had just taken the nonsense away and pointed an arrow at where I needed to focus.

Every life has peaks and valleys—a reset button, if you will. I was on the wrong track, and somehow Monroe found a way to reroute me. As I was reprogrammed after that last battle, Monroe took away the sensation of fear, stripped the sensation of shock; she bled away the emotion of grief and sorrow. And now here I am with my own personal demon: obsession.

I am currently obsessed with the idea of finding and fighting for my unspoken fate.

Someone is trying to kill me. They have a bull’s-eye on my back, and it has been there ever since I took my first breath. The idea of that fact alone should have my core shaking with anxiety, but I guess you need fear to have anxiety.

Maybe I could use this to my advantage after all. Anxiety is not something I really have time to deal with, and fear—well, fear sucks.

For hours now, I’ve been going over every single thing that happened to me during the last few months. My steaming bath had all but turned me into a raisin a few hours back, but I wasn’t ready to face another soul just then, so I wrapped a towel around me and have been sitting on the edge of this overgrown claw-foot tub, staring at the water, testing my emotions and insights with every thought that crossed my mind.

Obsession. If I could have wished for one emotion to leave me, it would have been that. But no, Monroe has decided that I still need to be obsessed with my unspoken fate. She’s decided that I should not move through this hell without depending on the one sense that has become my drug. Figures.

I ignored the knock on the door by turning the water back on. I guess they wanted to make sure I’m alive or something. One thing about the dimension of Chara: the hot water never runs out; everything in this utopia of a place is abundant.

This dimension is nothing like my home one, the one I call real. It’s peaceful, beautiful, and near flawless in every way. Not really a good place for someone who has spent their short life fixing all that is wrong. Funny thing about getting what you want: when you finally do, you really don’t want it anymore. It was the chase that you were in love with. At least that is how I see it, and like I said, I’m obsessive.

We wanted peace, and we found it in Chara in some way. We found a new home base to rest and gain strength in. Even before all of this mayhem, the knockout that amped up my senses followed by the hell that stripped me down to this, I was bored here. Really bored.