《Neophyte: Common Route》Transitions - 3

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“How far is it,” Vani asks, rubbing her finger on another tree. Like numerous others before, it shudders, like a dog shaking off water from its body. Marsha’s grown accustomed to the tree’s odd behavior by now. Attributing it to some kind of weird hallucination she’s having due to stress.

It’s gotten dark, and the power line lights have become their only beacons in the dark. Vani glances up and squeezes, as if to get Marshas’ attention.

“It’s not long now,” Marsha replies. “I haven’t been here in a while. So, it’s just a bit longer than I remember.”

“Where are we going?” Vani asks. And Marsha realizes she never quite explained that.

“We’re going to my grandmas’ house,” Marsha says.

Vani perks up at that. “I have a grandma!”

Marsha smiles. “What’s she like?”

“Ummm,” they think about that for a moment before blinking and then frowning. “I’m not supposed to talk about home with strangers. Daddy doesn’t like it.”

Marsha thinks that’s reasonable. So she nods, sagely. “It’s very good advice. But it’s okay to make conversation. You just can’t say anything personal. Like your address or something someone could use to hurt your family.”

Vani becomes quiet then. “…that’s why he doesn’t like it.”

Marsha remembers her father and the aura of dictatorship that thickened the air, snuffing out every speck of life, making it hard for anything existing in the contrary to survive. Home was like a void, an empty land, hostile to anything that breathed. How her mother survived in that environment, she didn’t know.

Marsha herself almost choked on it, every day.

“How come you didn’t see your grandma for so long?” Vani asks, finally.

Marsha tries not to think about the last time she saw her grandmother as she speaks. “She got in a fight with my mom and never came back. I think mom wouldn’t let her. Or maybe she just hated my parents. They were mean, so it’s entirely possible.”

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Vani nods, accepting the explanation easily. Nobody likes being around mean people.

‘What if grandma’s not home? What if she’s moved? What if somehow dad finds his way here?’ The thoughts start to eke into her mind and spiral around her like a physical presence. A storm of words.

She feels the fear like a rabid animal, scratching furiously at her insides, itching to be let out. But Marsha doesn’t stop moving. She’s used to it.

“It’s too quiet here,” Vani says, placing their other hand on Marsha’s arm. “Why’s it so quiet?”

Marsha stares at the house way in the distance that they’re walking past. Faint light spills from the windows, and a shadow moves around inside. But there’s no noise or movement out here.

“It’s night time,” Marsha says. “Most things are asleep. The things that aren’t, are hunting. And we’re too big and scary for them to eat.”

Vani nods and steps closer to Marsha, taking comfort in her presence.

But then something occurs to Marsha and she has to stop and kneel, to speak to Vani on their level, to make sure they understand. “Look, Vani, we can’t tell anyone what’s happened to us. So, if this isn’t my grandma, just pretend we got lost on a hike and need some place to sleep, okay?”

“Okay,” Vani nods. And Marsha wonders why they don’t ask. It’s odd to say ‘we can’t tell people what happened’ isn’t it? Unless they’ve been through this before…

Marshas’ heart is pounding against her ribcage. She feels the pulsations like an incessant throbbing in her ears, and there’s sweat on her brow that is threatening to start dripping into her eyes. She wasn’t certain they’d escaped her father’s net just yet. He had pull with the cops; and he was a hunter. He’d stop at nothing until he had his prey within his grasp.

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Or so her mind told her as she straightened up, grasping Vani’s hand tightly and walking toward the small house she could see in the distance. Just past the one they passed not a minute ago.

The house itself, when they finally reach it, is lovely. It’s covered in flowers and vines of all kinds. But something about it seems ominous and forbidding as she takes Vani up the path to the door. She ignores it. Marsha’s experienced sudden rises in her anxiety levels before.

She breathes through her teeth, and knocks on the door when they reach it. The silence feels so surreal. Almost as if a hex is in the air. Marsha tries to knock again, but the door swings open, revealing an old woman whom looks far too young for her age, wrinkles be damned.

“Grandma,” Marsha croaks.

“Marsha.” Her grandma, Edie Campbell, blinks in shock.

Marsha drops Vani’s hand and rushes towards Edie’s embrace. Figuring the kid can handle a few moments of no contact so that she can hug her grandmother who she hasn’t seen in years-- but still feeling guilty about it anyway.

Edie grasps Marsha tight with a surprised noise. Marsha suddenly feels so overwhelmed. She lets go off all the weight she’s been carrying, and crumples into a pool tears.

“I didn’t think I’d find you,” she cries. “I’ve been so scared. Dad’s been so—”

She goes on effusively, weeping on her grandma’s shoulders. Seeing Marsha cry, Vani’s eyes pool with fear, and she starts crying as well. She thinks they’re in trouble.

Edie looks at the crying child, and a glimmer of recognition creeps into her eyes.

Pulling Marsha back slightly, Edie leans around her to look at Vani. Squinting and something in her eyes sparkles and then-

Her grandmother gasps. “Vanisdan!? We’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

At the mention of their name, Vani perks up. The tears cease immediately. Marsha steps out of the embrace completely, a shocked expression on her face.

‘Vanisdan,’ Marsha thinks, dully. ‘Vani is probably just their nickname. How…’

She steps aside a little as Vani strides towards Edie, wrapping their tiny arms around her. Edie picks them up and sets them on her hip. Her eyes going glassy with tears. “Your father is going to be so overjoyed that you’re alright.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Marsha blinks rapidly and holds up a hand. “What’s going on?”

Edie stares down the empty road.

“We best take this inside. I’ll give you all the answers you need, once we’re in,” she says, her voice clogged with tears.

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