Donna and I had quite a few adventures in those years. Every time, we risked revealing ourselves to the world. We could have chosen to remain completely hidden, but I don’t think Donna or I could have lived with ourselves knowing that we could have helped people and did nothing. All those good deeds also helped us prepare for the coming storm. Donna wanted me to have as much experience as possible dealing with different kinds of people in different kinds of situations. During that time I also learned more about Donna. More than she was probably comfortable with. Her biggest secret was that publicly she put on a strong face but she was also constantly at war with herself.
A self-described social hermit, she needed interaction with other people as much as anyone but it was too easy for her to be alone. If no one went out of their way to contact her, she tended to let relationships, familial and otherwise, sort of fade into the background. It wasn’t a conscious decision. It also had nothing to do with her power. She was just too good at being self-reliant. Another issue she faced was the nagging feeling that she never quite fit in anywhere. Which was weird because she could fit in anywhere considering her power set and all the skills and knowledge she’d accumulated. I wonder if being able to fit into so many places in some weird way made her feel like she could never completely fit into any of them. I wish I could tell you. There was a weight to her spirit that had been with her since she was a child and then the burden of our destiny didn’t help. I could see her depression when times were quiet. Sometimes I found her crying. In one of her dark moments, Donna told me that part of her just wanted to vanish. “Just find a dark hole somewhere and disappear into it forever.”
I didn’t know how to help her so I was just there for her like she was there for me. But it wasn’t easy. After I knew how her power worked—that she was blocked from seeing some things and that she could not tell me everything—it became harder for me to just blindly trust Donna. Not impossible, but increasingly difficult. And I wasn’t brave enough to press her on it. Sometimes I wanted to run away and disappear myself but I could never bring myself to do it. I didn’t know if it was because, at my core, I did trust her or that I just really needed to trust her because I had no one else. Her actions did consistently show that she cared for me. So I stayed at her side. Though I did occasionally show a little resentment in my typical teenage moments. Okay, maybe it was more than just a little. It took some time for me to understand how trapped she felt by this path of ours and how scared she was trying to keep me safe. It was a fear I got to know firsthand.
Two years after Seoul, we began what would be our final mission. I was staying at a motel just outside of Chicago, waiting for Donna when I got a series of texts. I was given instructions which included time, place, name, and a person’s description. Donna was efficient with her language when on the clock. This time she added something new. Donna ended the messages with, “It’s time.” I felt a chill wash over me that went all the way down to my bones. My body tensed and I unconsciously held my breath as I weighed the implication of those two words. The end of our road was near and now everything we did would directly affect the outcome.
I only let the feeling linger for a few seconds before I grabbed my things and left. I needed to focus. I was operating alone. Donna’s message also said that she would be elsewhere finding someone else. This wasn't my first time running solo. When I turned eighteen, she began sending me on missions alone. I’d never gotten completely comfortable running solo, but I was more used to it. I became more confident in using my abilities without waking up my other. Even though I had helped people on my own, this was the first time I’d try to recruit someone. This was the first time someone would be my sole responsibility. Before I walked out the door, Donna texted me some more details.
At twelve years old, Leah Fisher was the youngest of us. You could easily mistake her for being younger. She was short for her age. Leah was a timid and quiet girl who could scare easily. Donna cautioned me to do what I could to keep Leah calm when I found her. I wasn’t told why. What she did say was that the girl was from a strict background and would be in a bad place, mentally. It wasn’t a lot to go on. I imagine Donna just wanted me to see Leah as a scarred little girl. If I had known more… I don’t know what I would have done. At that time I was not ready for the other side of Leah. Traffic and other everyday delays meant that the timing was going to be close. It could have gone better.
While I was racing to find her, Leah was running for her life. This was in Pennsylvania. Leah came from a rural and off-the-grid background. Her people were not much for modern things and her gift didn’t go so well with her family’s faith. In religious circles especially, powers not described as being from your god are generally frowned upon. Leah had discovered her power only recently and had been hiding it from her family. She knew that sooner or later she would have been found out but fear kept her from confessing.
Making matters worse, Leah’s tongue recently started to make her sound disobedient and resentful. She never meant to say things in those ways. She hadn’t tried to sound like she had an attitude. It just seemed to happen. Looks on her face also started to match the tones coming from her mouth. This began months before her power manifested and was happening more and more. Leah had been getting the rod often. And if the rod was the sentence just for disobedience, what wrath would inhuman abilities bring? Because her father was the one to dole out the punishments, she began to fear him as much as she loved him.
Leah could hear the rapid hoof beats behind her as she sprinted across a freshly-tilled field. Her bonnet was gone and her blonde hair was flying free. She tried running faster but the hoof beats kept getting closer. Her little body was just not fast enough or strong enough to save her. And now she was running out of breath. As the horse overtook her, she felt something hit her hard from behind. It threw Leah forward into the dirt. A sharp and excruciating pain ripped through her tiny body from her back and into her chest. It distracted her from the feeling of her face slamming into the ground and the taste of dirt in her mouth. Leah would have stayed on the ground but fear impressed on her the need to keep moving.
She pushed herself up onto her knees, and wanted to get up and run but her body wasn’t moving correctly. Something heavy was on her back, throwing her off balance. Leah looked down to see the spikes of a pitchfork sticking out of her chest. The fear and pain momentarily gave way to the confusion of seeing such a sight. More confusion came when suddenly the pain started to subside. A high load of adrenaline did dampen some of it. The rest of the pain was being taken away by something else. The horse circled back around and stopped next to her, blocking the sun. Her little form looked even smaller in the shadow of the animal and its rider. Leah looked up to see the silhouette of father on the horse hovering over her.
He yelled, “Die, witch!” and yanked back on the reins.
The horse reared up on its hind legs. This was how he was going to put down his only daughter. Leah didn’t ask for this. She didn’t understand why this was happening to her. She didn’t understand why God would forsake her like this and cause her father to hate her so much. She was in absolute sorrow and gave up on her life. Tears from her bloodshot eyes washed lines into the dirt on her face. She openly cried. Leah closed her eyes, waited for the hooves to crush her, and prayed to God to please accept her soul. But the fatal blow never came. Leah could still hear the horse breathing and struggling but she was too scared to open her eyes. Then she heard a voice she didn’t recognize.
“Stand down.” I said, sounding calm and authoritative.
Leah opened her eyes to see me, a young woman wearing what looked like a scarf, tightly covering her head and neck. She didn’t know what a hijab was. Before that day, I had not worn one in years. The time came when discretion no longer mattered and I realized that my subtle denial of my faith was more about hiding from myself than it was me hiding from the world. So there I was, unquestionably representing someone from one faith, protecting someone from another. Daughters of different faiths who worshiped the same God. Both of us considered aberrations for the same reason that was beyond our control.
I stood in front of Leah, facing her father, holding up the horse’s legs, one hoof in each hand. I moved my arms in little more than a flinch but it sent the horse falling over onto its back. Her father jumped away before the horse crushed him. He quickly got to his feet to face me down as the horse got back on its feet and trotted away. Lea’s father was a hardworking man and his farming life had given him a broad chest and thick arms and legs. His eyes blazed with rage. Were I just a normal woman he would have pummeled me easily. I knew he wanted to in spite of what he would say about turning the other cheek. My instinct was to raise my hands into fists, making ready for a fight. Instead I held my hands up, even with my shoulders and kept my palms open.
“Go home.” I commanded her father calmly.
I spoke with strength and authority that Leah had never heard come out of the mouth of any woman. Honestly, I didn’t even know that I could sound that way. Donna told me that I could do it. I wanted to believe her but I could never hear myself the way others did. It feels strange seeing myself this way. Looking back, nineteen-year-old me was pretty impressive. I didn’t appear built like a fighter but I did look athletic, like maybe a runner. I can now see why my father said I reminded him of my mother. I even looked like her a little. But in spite of the strength projected, I was a bundle of nervousness and insecurity, trying really hard not to botch my first recruitment mission. It was bad enough that I got here late and I was afraid that my inability to get in time had caused Leah’s death.
It was different in Leah’s eyes. To her, I radiated strength and was severely intimidating. She was already scared out of her mind and confused. This show made her even more so. Leah’s father couldn’t process what was standing in front of him either. I was just a woman. He knew he was in the right. He also knew that in that moment he was outmatched. He recognized what I was. Or he recognized what he thought I was. One of the damned, like his daughter. I could tell he was biting his tongue, trying not to curse me. But after trying to end own daughter, who he believed to be some kind of “Devil’s host”, this was more than he wanted to deal with. He ran to his horse and raced home. He would never speak of what happened and went forward never acknowledging having had a daughter.
Leah collapsed to the ground. The day was too much for her too. I watched in amazement as Leah’s tiny body absorbed the metal from the pitchfork, leaving the wooden handle on the ground. I knelt next to Leah and checked her back and chest to gauge the severity of her injuries. There was no harm to be found. There weren’t even marks on her skin. Her body used the metal to repair her injuries. The rest of the material was converted into biological mass that was evenly distributed throughout the rest of her body. I didn’t notice, but she grew about an inch in a few seconds. I can’t tell you how relieved I was that she was okay. Physically at least. I wondered how far her ability went. Little did I know.
“Leah. My name is Sarah. I’ve come to help you.” I said.
Her eyes were barely open, staring at me. Then they shut completely. I almost panicked but I found that she had a steady pulse and appeared to be breathing normally. I carried her to my rental car and hoped for the best. I didn’t know the depths of her fear and confusion. I mean, I knew she had to be scared but I didn’t know everything she was feeling. She never had the chance to tell me. All those feelings fed into something we did not know was inside of her. I really wish I had gotten to her sooner. Maybe things would have been different. I know I couldn’t control everything that happened next, but Leah was my responsibility. I still feel like I let her down.217Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrQXThJrmX0
