Chapter 3 - Child of FaithMature

            “But you can’t quit!  You’re almost to a year there! Don’t you think about your future?”  Christabel couldn’t believe what she was hearing.  First Mom wanted her to quit, and now she wanted her to stay.  “Stay at a place no one knows my name?  Stay at a place where my life means nothing but how I fit in the clothes!  I’m leaving and I don’t care what you say! Stay-,” Connection broken again.  Her mother obviously didn’t want to hear it.  A memory came back to her, but she pushed it aside.  The words were all that were left now.  “If you want to leave Christa darling, you can leave, but don’t come back if you do.”  The light on her cell was flashing.  She had enough.  School’s out anyway, I’ve graduated.

            One missed call that went to voicemail.

            “Christa,” The familiar voice of Traguard.  “You’re fired.” Click

            She wasn’t surprised, but she was shaken by the news.  Her eyes closed, and she turned to the door, running a hand through her hair.  Bastard hadn’t even said why, or told her to her face.

            “Fuck him!”  She opened the door, running out at full speed. 

The break in Christabel Mordsa’s subconscious began at that point. She wasn’t insane, not by any stretch of the imagination, but in a way, she had been planning for this.  Had she lost her job, which she just had, she would run away.  Not like mom would miss her.  Taking the cell out of her pocket, she stared at it, thought about throwing it in the nearby river, but shook her head.  Might need it.  She ran, ran into the fields, letting the wind blow her purple hair backward.  Freedom.  Her mother was going to let her go. Hell, she’d likely say “Good riddance.”  The vision overtook her once more.

            Christabel Mordsa is walking with her baseball bat across a rickety old bridge.  The fog overtakes her vision like ocean waves.  There is a silhouette in the fog.  A womanly figure, Christabel supposes.  Noises, coming from what seem to be crows, fill her ears.  There are no voices, no escapes to this fairytale.  The silhouette beckons to her, at the end of the bridge.  She crosses it easily, staring, trying to get a look at the person.  She runs a hand through her hair, the cold biting at her flesh.  Sleepy, so sleepy.  Completely alone, she stares at the figure which stands silently in wait for her.  It must be a man has to be.

            She came back to reality, a jolt in her subconscious.  Time to work, time to actually do something.   Child of Faith, come on home.  Words echoed in her head.  For some reason, she wanted to sing those words.  To drift away.

            When she returned to LCC, she walked directly to the music room.  Christabel Mordsa, queen of the dead, child of faith, come on home.  She had to sing this out loud.  It had to come out.  Her muse was screaming it in her ear.  There was a band there, playing a heavy melody.  There were two women there, singing in harmony.  God, if it be so, compose this with me.

            “Mind if I sing with you?”  The voice had a childlike quality, admiring the band that was rehearsing. The two girls stared at her, the gazes absorbing her in, letting every element of Christabel fall into place, and nodded.  The boys in the background nodded as well, and smiled as Christabel took the microphone off the stand.  A thought came to her that she should get back to class, but – I’m here! Not leaving now!

            “Replay that melody please?”  The band obliged.

            Taking a deep breath in, Christabel screamed into the microphone.  The sound reverberated against the walls.  “Yeahhhhhhh!”  Liberating!

            “Child of Faith why do you fear us

            In darkness we crawl towards the light you fed us

            In monstrosity our fears are abated

            But life for me is so goddamn jaded

            I do believe in the course of humanity

            Being drawn by childish fears

           

            Child of Faith, come on home

            Child of Faith, find your own!”

 

She glanced at the band, while continuing to scream the chorus.  They were head banging with her, clicking, with her.  The two girls who had been harmonizing were now doing so to her chorus.  “Child of Faith come on home, child of faith, find your own!”

A man walked into the music room, glaring at them with the grim gaze of authority.  The music stopped, and Christabel’s eyes glared at him not even knowing who he was.  She wanted to say something mean to him- Motherfucker we don’t need to stay quiet, but she couldn’t do that.   Instead, she said “We’re leaving now.”

Child of Faith that she was, she had found her home.

The End

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