Amber Stone and the Dead Doctor Part 3.2
Auntie Leona confronts Amber about using her powers.
I avoid her hard stare. “I had no choice; it was that or my eye.” I point at it again. “Either way, I’m doomed.” The image of what happened replays in the back of my mind. I close my eyes, and the images are vivid, coupled with the pain coursing throughout my body. I wanted those girls to pay; the little that I did wasn’t enough. “They got what they deserved.”
“But at what cost, Bebe? Now there are more things to worry about.”
“What do you mean?”
Auntie shifts her weight toward me. “When the girls wake up, we will see what they have to say.”
“Let’s hope they’re too beat up to remember,” I mumble.
“Amber, this is a serious matter. I’ve told you several times not to draw attention to yourself and to control your abilities.”
My chest constricts into tiny, hard knots. A low buzzing hum leaks from the back of my mind, spilling into my ears. “I tried. I tried with everything in me, but I couldn’t. It was so hard.” Tears pool within my eyelids and escape like a waterfall, blurring my vision. The buzzing hum encompasses my mind and builds with pressure.
“Try harder; your life will be at stake if someone finds out that you’re a Median with powers. Instead of the Protectors escorting you to your classes. They will take you away from me and escort you to containment. And who knows what else?” She sighs. “One thing’s for sure, all of Occulus would go nuts. There’s no one like you in this world. To live the life that we live, we must look and live with the status quo. Act and live what is expected as a Median in Occulus.”
“I know this; I do. You tell me this every day. I am trying very hard. It’s too much,” I say between sobs. A never-ending sea of tears continues to pour and flow, dripping down my chin and neck. My chest is heaving heavily; heat rises throughout my body, and the pressure and humming inside my mind are screaming, begging me to let go. “It’s too much.”
Auntie’s purse is lying across from us on the seat. The bag rises and zooms toward her as she ducks in time for the purse to hit the spot where her head was.
I quickly wipe my tears, staring in disbelief. “I’m sorry, Auntie, I didn’t mean to.”
She reaches over and gently hugs me, stroking my hair. I lean into her chest, inhaling the flowery honey scent of her perfume.
“I know you didn’t. It’s okay. I’m not afraid. We will figure this out, Bebe. Alright?” She rocks me gently back and forth. “Your father wanted so much for you. I promised I would make his dream for you come true. We will get through this.”
I release all the tears. I release all the frustrations of hiding and trying to be normal; I release the humiliation. I release the exhaustion of this life in my cries. I look up at Auntie.