The Robertsons are gone, and it feels almost back to normal with Clara and Lola.

My life is good. I am more or less officially Joe's girlfriend, and he invited me to a concert: The Blue Cauldron is singing in our town next weekend, and he got tickets from his brother for it.

His brother is a professional football player, makes a lot of money, has a sports car and… Joe got his tickets, VIP tickets, and his car for the weekend, and I'll go with him.

That'll be a show!

Now, of course, Joe would like to kiss me and hook up with me. I want that too, but until now, I avoided any close contact, and he thinks it is because of the incident at Tim's party. Whilst that is partially true, the real reasons are my scars, wings and horns.

I guess it may not be so much postulating for our relationship to have him involuntarily skewered with one horn? Or him hugging me and feeling something in my back that should not be there?

However, yes, I'll say it again: I would like to hook up with him. So what do I do?

My horns are now close to three centimetres long. OK, not very dangerous yet but still... How long will they grow? Yesterday I tried to cut them, but… I encountered some... difficulties.

The first problem was pain. I discovered that cutting one was an excruciating operation.

Previously I thought you did not even feel when you cut a horn, like, for instance, cutting hair or nails. Not true. Rather, it was as intensive as the toothache you would get when trying to sever a living tooth or drilling into the nerve.

The second problem was the noise. That circular saw makes a terrible noise. Clara was instantly in my room to inquire what was happening. She almost got me, good that I took some precautions, like hiding behind the wardrobe, but I had to explain to her that I was cutting... stones.

What stones? Why? Where are my glasses and...

Oh, get out of here! It is my room!

And after all this trouble, all I had to show was an almost invisible scratch on one horn.

Fuck adamantium horns I have!

I'll never be able to cut them in my room with the girls home. I have to wait for them to leave or find a better place.

Next problem: my wings. They are about twenty centimetres long now and tend to look like butterfly wings. Lovely little butterfly wings on my back that look creepish and prevent me from sleeping on my back.

Luckily I can fold them and keep them close to my back. I can move them! Another creepy thing I can do. I can even hide them under a blouse, but if they grow further, that might be no longer possible.

As if this would not be enough trouble, I have to deal with Matt.

Flo still talks with him, and even if it is now through the grapevines official that I am with Joe, Matt invited me for this evening to his house. It is not a party, but to meet his friends. Well, to hear them, they make what they call music. The problem is that Flo accepted it. She wants to go there, and she is right: I promised she could meet her friend, so what can I do?

I don't have to solve this case yet, but at a certain moment, I'll have to do it as it will cause me trouble.

Now I have a couple of hours until I should go to Matt, and I wanted to get rid of at least my horns before.

I do not do it for Matt, but the last time when I played handball, I've already hit one boy with one horn. It is practically impossible to avoid body contact when playing handball.

So it happened, and we collided. Now with these longer and sharper horns, the thing is starting to get dangerous. How long can I play 'oops, it was my finger, my knuckle, my elbow'?

Especially when you are not supposed to do that.

My wings are a different kind of a problem. I have to tie them under a kind of corset and put a t-shirt above. This requires some tiresome, difficult gymnastics in the locker room. Lucky me, when I play handball with the boys, I am the only girl in the locker room, but tomorrow I'll also have gym hours with the class again.

So the wings have to go.

“Don't you want to grow your wings? Try to fly with them?”

Yeah. Should I try? Can I hide grown-up wings? Is that even possible? I need to find a solution to hide them.

Plus, now I have to be especially careful with healing, as full healing would now heal my wings and horns back. Tadaa!

So, where can I find a place to cut these things down?

There is only one place I can think of: at Gonzo's place!

Yeah, his garage is in the midst of nowhere. I could go there and make all the noise I have to!

Happy that I found a solution, I packed my saw. The bike has a small cargo bay, but I was pleased to see that my saw passed inside, even if narrowly. Once done, I was on my way to Gonzo.

Bye, bye horns! Hello, kisses! I was singing an improvised song on the way to his workshop.

It did not take long to arrive there. When I passed by, I waved to the policemen, and they flashed their lights. Huh, I'm starting to make friends with them.

Gonzo was not his usual happy, careless guy. Something was stressing him. All I got was that he was expecting a visit. OK?

Well, I need to solve my problem today, and I don't really have a different place to go. If I can work alone in his workshop, that would be great. He has enough room.

“Gonzo, I need some work done urgently. Can I use your workshop for half an hour?”

He wondered:

“Is there a problem with the bike?”

“No, it is a school project; I would like to cut some stones with my circular saw. I'll make some dust, but I'll clean it up at the end. Don't come in to avoid the dust. I promise I'll leave it clean!”

“OK, OK. Use that plastic over there to cover the rest; you can make the noise you want for one hour, but please not later. I mean, you know I expect some guests...”

“Sure, I should be finished and gone by then!”

“I'm sorry I cannot help you now; I have to clean up inside. Is this ok with you?”

“Sure!”

“Have fun then!”

He ran inside. Wow, there must be some inspection coming.

I entered the workshop, and Flo made a mirror in the air in front of me and then she made the horns visible.

“Fucking fuck. Ugly things. But if I cut them, I will have two wounds there?”

“Yes, I thought about this. I will try to drive the skin over and make a partial heal over it.”

“This works? Would this mean they will remain cut, like Cala's nose?”

“No. Her nose is not cut but was forced askew. The skin does not hinder the horns, they will grow anyhow, but it will be temporary covering it.”

“Wait, could you do the same over my scars? At least the eye?”

“Ahm, yes, good idea; I think I could do it.”

Cool! Aesthetic operations are possible! I could look less creepy than I do!

“Let's try first with the scar on your eye!”

“Take your blouse off; you'll fill it with blood.”

“Right”

Blouse off. He has all kinds of cutters and saws in his workshop. I had only to cut my skin and Flo to link it over the scar, then apply a light heal. I had to try a couple of times until it worked to my satisfaction. The skin is hard, harder than leather, and not easy to cut; in the end, I used my circular saw for it. I did not have to make a deep cut, only superficial but fuck, to work with the circular saw above your eye gives you such a creepy feeling.

Well, it worked, and Flo could link the skin from both sides and heal it superficially. It looked almost perfect; the brow was a bit shortened, but it looked OK, and at least it would feel good at a touch. For the shortened brow, Flo could fix that with illusions or cosmetics. You had to know to see it, it was so good. I was happy.

“It is not healed but looks better; unfortunately, the next full heal will make the scar appear again.”

“Hey, it is an improvement! Let us try one horn. Start with the left one!”

After five minutes, I was completely covered with sweat, breathing hard with three-quarters of the horn remaining.

I had to take a break out of sheer stress. What are these things made of?

I wanted to scream. It pained so damn hard.

I breathed hard and pressed the circular blade against the horn again. Maybe I pushed too hard, the saw broke, and a piece flew against the wall and ricocheted back into my eye. I screamed an agonizing scream and dropped the machine.

Out of shock, I did not know what to do for a couple of seconds, squealing like a stuck pig. Then I pulled that piece of iron out of my eye.

"Fucking fuck!"

“Oh my God!”

I did not expect an answer. Gonzo was in the door looking at me. Our eyes locked, and we stayed like this for a couple of seconds. I did not even try to cover my breasts.

He came closer, looking at my eye.

“Your eye! You blinded yourself?! Oh, God! We need...”

I grasped his hand, stopping him.

“No. It's alright; I can heal it.”

He remained mute, looking at me as I healed it.

He blinked, looking now at my healed eyes, then at my horns, then back at my eyes, then...

I sighed. Finally, he spoke:

“What are you trying to do?”

Not the question I expected to hear.

“I'm trying to get rid of these... horns.”

“Uh. I see...”

He now saw the broken circular saw. He closed his eyes again and breathed out.

“Well, I am ready with the clean-up; I could help you.” - he raised his eyes - “I still have almost one hour to wait.”

I did not expect that. I was expecting all kinds of screams and curses but not an offer to help. He did not even comment on my horns, did not even ask what kind of freak I was, and offered to help me?

“Would you do that for me?”

He nodded.

“Sure”

Then he had double thoughts.

"Should we not go to a hospital? This is an operation, not an auto mechanic thing?"

"Gonzo, I thought you understood my reasons. Have you ever seen such a freak like me who, in addition, can heal itself? Where do you think I'll land? Consider you are helping me to get a haircut. It is almost like that."

"But you are risking your life with these things, lady?"

"I'm resilient. Do you help me, or do you let me do it? We both want to close this as soon as possible."

He nodded:

"I'll help"

I took a deep breath. I know Flo could make him forget. That would be one way to go. Do I want to go that way? I looked at him. I decided to trust him. I wonder, are there many people like him in this world who would simply help you without straight out thinking, 'what does this bring me?' Or was I so lucky to meet him?

He coughed:

“Ahem, maybe you could put that blouse on? Not that… I mean...”

His face was red. I shrugged and turned my back to him.

“How would you cut those down with my blouse on? Besides, I want to avoid having blood over it. You should also think about it.”

“Oh... Do you want your... wings cut?”

The horror resonated in his voice. I turned to face him with my hand covering my breasts and nodded.

“Yes, preferably after the horns.”

He took a deep breath.

“If you say so… OK, let's do it.”

I looked into his eyes.

“How should I stay?”

We talked a little about what would be the best way to do it. I ended up spread on my belly over one workbench, my head down, one horn up. He came on the other side of the workbench having perfect access to my head and horn.

“Cut it so that it comes a little below the skin level.”

“Below? But what will you do with the open wound?”

“I'll solve that. Let it be my problem, but leave my brain intact.”

He sighed:

“That's not funny. OK, lady. I'll start to cut." - then he hesitated - "Does it pain?”

“No, it does not; it is only stress.”

He was visibly reassured by it.

“Oh, ok.”

He had a bigger saw with industrial diamonds hardened cut, he started it, and then he stopped it.

"I cannot do this."

I sighed.

"OK. Can I borrow your saw?"

"You really want to do it?"

"Gonzo, I cannot go like this to meet people."

"Maybe with a hut?"

I watched him slantwise. He sighed.

"OK, OK, I'll try to do it. Scream if it pains, OK? I'll stop instantly."

"You saw that I can heal myself, so don't be afraid and cut it, OK?"

He started the machine again. Even with his super-special saw, it took some five minutes to cut one down. I kept silent, but I was drenched in my own sweat and breathing hard when he finished. Blood was running on my temple. Not much, but enough to make him uneasy.

"Are you sure it does not pain? You do not look like?"

"Gonzo, honestly, it pains like hell, but we are one down. You will not run away now?"

He was looking with horrified eyes at me.

"You lied to me?"

"Sure. Would you have done it if I told you so?"

“Should you not take some pain killer if it pains so much? I'm sorry I do not have any, but I could drive fast...”

"No, we are half done. The other half will be easier."

He did not seem convinced. He looked a bit disconcerted at me.

"Tell me, honestly, do I dream this?"

Even with all the pain, I had to laugh. A pained laugh.

"Come on, you did one; the other one will be easier."

"But I mutilate you forever?"

"No, if I am not careful, I'll have them instantly back on."

He took a deep breath.

“Oh. Ready?”

“Yep”

He started the engine again, and I felt like I was put on the torture table. Blood was staining my face and now the table.

I was straining my back, trying hard to endure, trying hard not to run away. Another five minutes of hell.

I was crying; tears ran down my cheeks.

“What's the matter? Are you sorry?”

I could hardly speak but managed somehow to mumble.

“Ignore me. It is only the pain. Do the wing stubs now, too; please don't stop.”

He hesitated, but something in the way I've said it convinced him. He moved to my wings. It went much faster, but the pain was immeasurable.

“I… I'm done,” - he said, putting the machine down.

The pain from the wing had been so unbearable that I was simply muted, my back strained, all my muscles cramped, and I simply could not move. I could not even breathe. It was as if I would have been pinned down with two giant needles on that table.

I tried to gasp air, and only a long pained something came out from my mouth.

“Dolores? Dolores?”

Further moaning. I could not concentrate to even breathe. My world was an explosion of pain. Waves of pain made my body shudder. He tried to help me stand, but I could not. My feet were not sustaining me, I crumbled, and he had to hold me in his hands. Drenched in sweat, moaning and shuddering. I never thought somebody could produce so much sweat.

"Flo, you lead!"

Yeah, I idiot, I should have thought earlier to let my alter ego do the work. She or Cala could better endure pain than me. The transformation was instant; my movements became more gracious even in those circumstances, and the pain started to be bearable.

He was trying to soothe me when suddenly I felt him freezing. He was staring at something. I turned with difficulty my head to look behind me.

His hands grasped me, holding me tight. My troubled eyes saw a wide-eyed Helen who had just dropped a basket with something on the ground. I slowly turned my eyes to look down: a basket full of food that was now spreading on the floor.

Not 'my' Helen from the class, but the other Helen, Helen the gamer. Fucking fuck, he had a date with Helen. And she was early to her date.

I don't know how long did we stay there, not moving, looking at each other. I was still shuddering.

I also know that Flo was halfway amused by the situation.

She looked at him, and the next moment I heard the door being shut.

“Should I make her forget?”

He put me gently on the chair. A note of fear flickered in his eyes.

“No. I should talk to her. Excuse me now.”

He ran away.

Fuck. Is there a script where I would bring bad luck and ruin to anyone who helps me?

If I want to delete their memories, I need to do it now, when they are fresh and not stored in the long-term memory area. If you try to delete the long-term memory, the risk of making a mess is almost one hundred per cent. Much more might get lost in the process than only that memory you try to target. I don't want to do that.

When I came out, they were not there. I realized that his car was gone.

Flo fixed my wounds and cleaned the workshop, removed all the blood stains, my severed horns and wings.

I waited there for some ten minutes, then wrote him a note, left it on the table and left.

'Sorry for the mess and the problems. Please call me if you need my help. Dolores'