Anstober Day 8

Instructions

Day 8: Unidentifiable Apo stared at the pocket mirror. The sight still shook her to her core, despite it having been unchanged for days now. Each time she saw it, it just hardened the truth that she couldn’t ever return home. … That she couldn’t ever return to *her*... “I tried so hard, Cherri,” She choked out. “I didn’t want it to be me, I-...” She curled up on the cobblestone floor of the lookout tower. She missed the silver that Abolish had once placed around the beacon. Sure, it hurt. But hurting meant she was *safe*. Her hands curled around the mirror. Her breathing staggered, and she let out a scream of anger, throwing the fragile thing as far and as hard as she could. Breathing shakily, Apo stared at the shattered pieces of glass that were now scattered across the floor. She reached for the closest shard–it was smaller than the palm of her hand, but only barely. She stared into it, begging to see her reflection. But it was still as blank as the full mirror had been. She sobbed, dropping the shard back to the floor and pulling her knees close to her chest. The exhaustion and horror of the past few days finally caught up with her, and she found herself breaking down. She didn’t know how much time had passed, didn’t even really have a good guess, just that she sat there on her own for a while. After sitting there with her head down as the tears ran down her cheeks for what felt like hours, she dared to look up. She stared at the beacon. It was warm, like her fireplace back home–Not *here* home, *home*. It was the one comfort she had. It eradicated the vampiric powers she supposedly had: it made her feel *human*. But it flickered dangerously, as the orange light slowly faded. “No,” Apo whispered, shooting up. “No, no, no…” She reached her hand towards it, but it flickered faster. She was deconsecrating it by complete accident. She jerked her hand back in horror, and the flickering slowed. It wasn’t fully orange, but it stopped fading. Unsure what else to do, she hurried out of the tower. She searched around desperately, looking for someone – *anyone* – to help. She stopped first at her old neighbor’s home. She anxiously knocked. “Martyn! Martyn, come on, answer the {dang} door!” "Don't you swear at me, I'm com!ng!" His muffled voice answered. Slower than she’d have liked, he opened the door. He opened his mouth, but she quickly interrupted him. “The-the beacon-... it started to deconsecrate-...” She started to hyperventilate and Martyn grabbed her shoulders. He grounded her. “Calm down, calm down, we can figure this out,” He urged quietly. “Was there anyone else around the tower?” “N-...” She hesitated. “Not that I could see…” she couldn't tell him who had caused it. “I was alone in that tower, and then it started dimming. … there was a *vampire*. Close to the beacon. Close to *ME*! I-I could have-” She froze as Martyn wrapped an arm around her. It wasn't quite a hug – their relationship was still too weird for that – but it was close enough to one that it broke her all over again. “You're okay,” he whispered. “It isn't all on you. You've got the rest of us keeping you safe.” Those words just made the tears come faster, as she fell into his chest. She wanted those words to be true. That if she just stuck close to the people she could call her friends everything would be okay. But the voice in her head rang in her ears. ‘But who's keeping you safe from me?’