Teen Fury: Unleashed

by Amanda Torrey

  I go ballistic.

  My snakes erupt full force. I allow them to grow bigger than before, proud of the fear on the man’s face as I invade his personal bubble. Blood fills my eyes and runs down my cheeks, landing in my mouth. I taste the coppery saltiness, but my true focus is on this “man.” I need to torment him as he has tormented his daughter. To fill him with the fear and dread he’s cast onto this young girl.

  His eyes widen, his mouth drops open, and I am on fire. I leap onto the table in front of him, pushing my face into his. He can’t look away, can’t get away. He is cemented to the spot. I want to hurt him, but something in me doesn’t allow me to inflict pain, only torment.

  I revel in his fear. I feed off it like a vampire consumes blood. A lesson must be taught, and I am the teacher. I’m all-powerful. No one can stop me. This is where I belong.

  A hand grips my arm and drags me off the table.

  “Take a deep breath, Felicia. You must.”

  Ryder. Of course. Because why wouldn’t he be here? And why wouldn’t he want to ruin my fun?

  I’m suddenly aware of all the eyes looking at me, of the distinct lack of human sounds in the room. All is silent.

  My snakes recede on their own, and blood rushes out of my head. Ryder holds me close to him, keeping me upright. I notice a skinny man standing behind Ryder, his hand on a night-stick type thing that hangs from his belt. He speaks into a walkie talkie clipped near his shoulder, alerting someone that I’d be taken to the security office.

  I’ve never been in trouble before. What a way to start.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The wooden chair bites into my thighs as I bounce them up and down. I chew my fingernail until I reach skin. Ryder sits beside me, calm as a summer day.

  The security guard called my mom instead of the police, but one look at her face and I’m wishing they had called in the big guns, instead.

  “Thank you for coming in, ma’am. Your daughter here is getting herself into a quagmire of trouble.”

  “Thank you for calling me. I’m so sorry for what happened. I don’t know what got into her, confronting that man like that.” She turns to me. “Felicia Marie, what in God’s name has gotten into you? You can’t go around threatening people like that.”

  My mind swirls around her words. Threatening? I didn’t exactly threaten—not with words, anyway.

  Why is there no mention of the snakes? The blood? The high pitched screeches?

  Ryder grabs my hand and rubs it, soothing my worries.

  I retreat into my own private world while my mom explains to the guard that this is all very unusual for me, that I’ve been seeing a neurologist for acting so out of character, blah, blah, blah.

  In my private world, there is no neurologist, only a big, strong hand cradling my smaller one. Dark skin contrasting with my pale whiteness. Warm calmness, no whirly-swirly thoughts, no extreme emotions. Comfort.

  Mention of the “T” word pulls me back.

  “Yes, I promise I’ll bring her to a therapist. Just please don’t press charges.”

  “We’ll drop it for now. Be sure to get her checked out. You know, my nephew had a seizure disorder and started acting all crazy. You might want to have her checked out for that.”

  Mom thanks the rent-a-cop and walks to the door. I follow her, and it’s not until I get to the car that I realize I’m still gripping Ryder’s hand.

  Chapter Seventeen

  I fumble in the dark to open my laptop. Can’t use my desktop until I get a new keyboard, and I don’t feel like getting up, anyway. I tried sleeping, but with too many thoughts rushing through my head, I’m unable to settle in.

  A quick Google search for “snakes coming out of head” doesn’t return any helpful results. A few tattoo sites, some movie link I don’t dare to click on, some Medusa sites, and dream interpretation.

  “Fury.” I type the word into the search bar and hold my breath.

  I click through a few pages, and find the definition. Mythological goddesses of vengeance with snake hair. Lovely.

  Not much description. But then I come to a website called “Sisters of the Lost Fury.” I click to the “About” page.

  Though some consider the story of the lost Fury to be a legend, we at Sisters of the Lost Fury hold the belief that the lost Fury will one day be found, possibly among us. We believe She lives, and will return to help restore power to women everywhere.

  Okay…

  Then I click to their “Truth of the Lost Fury” link.

  When one of the Fury goddesses consorted with the god of Mercy, she became impregnated. Angered at what the fetus was doing to her body, and furious that she would be used in the typical breeding fashion, Megaera tried to abort the fetus. Mercy intervened, imprisoning her in an impenetrable cell. When the baby was born, Mercy was away on a mission, as he didn’t expect the birth for several more weeks. Megaera was enraged that the sweet baby resembled her father so much and had no signs of a Fury. In a fit of rage, she tossed the baby from the Heavens, leaving her to a sure death.

  When Mercy returned, Megaera was missing. It is thought that a member of Mercy’s kingdom was seduced into betrayal. A member of the Mercy community told Mercy of how Megaera tossed the baby, and though Mercy searched and searched, he was never able to locate the child.

  It was believed that no baby would have been capable of surviving such a fall, even the offspring of a goddess and a god.

  Mercy declared war against the Furies, resulting in a binding of their powers and virtual imprisonment in their own realms.

  The Sisters turned on Megaera, as they rightfully blamed her for what they deemed unjust punishment.

  But some people believe the infant survived, and that She will come into her Fury during her first menstrual period.

  I read through the passage numerous times until I have it memorized. A baby thrown from the heavens? Will come into her Fury when she gets her first period?

  Could this random site, buried on page eleven of a Google search, be telling the truth? Their depictions of a Fury don’t match the photos Zane showed me, but they had the basics.

  I slam the laptop cover down and toss it to the side of my bed. I bury my head under the blankets, wishing I’d wake in the morning and find out this was all a nightmare.

  Chapter Eighteen

  My mind refuses to focus on the teacher’s lecture. I only get to stay in school until after lunch, anyway, since my mother was able to get me into an urgent-care psychiatric clinic today. I have so much to do—pass my classes, prepare for my working interview for the grant, finish the website. I have absolutely no time for a mental health crisis. I certainly have no time to go all mythological.

  I hide my cell under my thigh to muffle the “incoming text” vibration. I absolutely do not need to have my phone confiscated. When I’m sure the teacher isn’t paying attention, I sneak a peek at the text. A tingle runs through my belly when I see it’s from Zane. He’s been texting me all day, trying to get me to meet up with him after class.

  Rather than responding, I’ve been liberally using the “delete” button.

  He’s more trouble than I need today.

  Just before lunch I head to the assembly hall for some presentation on disability tolerance. They have a guy in a wheelchair come to our school every year to tell us that everyone can succeed if they put their mind to it. He should know—he is a wildly successful basketball player.

  I review the newest text from Zane, then scroll up to see the picture I couldn’t bring myself to delete.

  The Snake Lady.

  How could I have come from someone, something, like that?

  I search her intense, bloody eyes. Was the website correct? Did she try to abort me, then throw me out of the sky? And if not, if that website is the product of someone’s crazily coincidental imagination, then what made her abandon me? What was it about me she didn’t like?

  My mind races with excuses. Maybe she was poor and wanted a better life for
me. Or she didn’t get along with my father, and couldn’t stand the thought of having a living memory haunt her every day. Or maybe I was kidnapped, and she searched for me every day and finally located me.

  Or she just didn’t love me.

  Hot breath hits my neck as Corey slides into the seat next to me. Can’t even have a moment of peace with my thoughts.

  “I’ll just take this seat next to the most beautiful girl in the room.” His peanut butter scented words pierce through my senses. Irritation oozes from every one of my pores. I can’t handle any more demands today.

  “Give me some space, Corey, will you? Geez!”

  I sense him tensing up, and feel the air shift as he moves away from me. I know every move Corey makes, know him better than he knows himself half the time. And I know with every nerve in my body that he is hurt by my insensitive snapping. Not only hurt, but angry.

  I make the mistake of looking at my best friend, and the disappointment I see brings tears to my eyes.

  He grabs his backpack from the floor, ignoring the people grousing behind us.

  “You want space? Fine. I’ll give you plenty.”

  Guilt and shame wash through me, but anger quickly replaces both. Don’t I have the right to demand some time and space alone? Between Zane and Ryder, I haven’t had two seconds of brain space to myself. And I have a lot to figure out.

  Corey has always understood me without explanation.

  The snakes stir in my head, and I’m worried they’ll emerge full force, here in the middle of the auditorium. But one thought of Corey’s hurt face, and the snakes fall limply inside my hair follicles.

  What is wrong with me? I guess I should be asking what isn’t wrong with me…

  Tears threaten to spill as I scribble on the cover of my notebook, my hair acting as a curtain to hide my misery from the crowd.

  I smell Zane before I even feel him beside me. I sit up straighter, prepared for another battle. Hoping I can stand my ground against him.

  He leans close to me, his legs spread in front of him, his knee scorching mine. I move my legs to the side, desperate to avoid physical contact.

  “Look, if you need to get away, come with me. Your mom would love to see you, and I’ll be happy to bring you to her.”

  “My mom sees me every day. And I don’t need you to bring me to her.”

  “I know, I know. You are connected to your other mom. But don’t you wonder about the mom who gave you life?”

  “She gave birth, not life. My mom is the one who has given me a life. She didn’t abandon me like an unwanted puppy.”

  Zane pulls back slightly, and I feel like I put a dent in his argument. Not a huge dent, but something in what I said shook his overblown confidence.

  “Meet me later. I’d love to see you let your Fury fly.” He leans closer, his whisper burning my ear. “You deserve it.”

  I pull away, though my movements are limited in the confines of the lecture hall chair.

  “And I swear, you are never more beautiful.” He grabs my hand, pulling it to his lips. I try to pull away, but his grip is strong. “I’m not like your body guard. I won’t block people’s memory of your Fury. I won’t let people believe you’re crazy. I’d embrace that Fury like you wouldn’t believe.” His voice gets huskier on that last sentence, and I feel something intimate pass between us.

  My lungs burn with the need for air. My throat closes up, and I wonder if I’ve developed asthma. My mind races so fast, I can’t hitch on to a single thought.

  I need to get away.

  When my hazy vision focuses on Ryder approaching, I know I must run. I can’t fathom the thought of his presence at this moment.

  My pen drops to the floor as I leap out of my seat. I clutch my notebook to my chest, then struggle to pull my backpack off the floor. The person in the seat in front of me swears at me when my backpack hits him in the head, so I mumble an apology and bolt for the door. I head the opposite direction of Ryder, and pick up speed as he strolls toward me.

  The door slams behind me as the principal introduces our guest speaker. I feel bad for my hasty departure, but breathing is becoming more and more difficult, and my head tingles more than usual. My body temperature is rising, nearly boiling. I consider heading to the nurse, but duck into the bathroom instead.

  At least I’ll be safe in the girls’ bathroom.

  Thankfully, the bathroom is empty, because when I glance in the mirror after splashing my face with cold water, I notice the emergence of the snakes.

  And I can’t will them back down.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Panic would be an understatement. I try to push them in. I try to pull them out. (Ouch!) I even consider cutting them off, but I have nothing sharper than a pencil.

  The more I think about the snakes, the more I see them, the bigger they grow. And the more trouble I am going to be in.

  Mom texts me to let me know she’s out front, and she’ll meet me at the office to sign me out. She’s early.

  How can I leave? The snakes are getting bigger and thicker, stretching my hair follicles to the point of torture. My head pounds, my skin is getting paler in some spots, redder in others, and I can’t traipse through the halls looking like a freak.

  I lean closer to the mirror to study the insanity sprouting from my head. Their colors are not uniform, ranging from gentle purples to raging reds. Some of them are bland browns and blacks. Some are shiny and almost sparkly, reminding me of Rainbow Fish, one of my favorite children’s books. The snakes all have beady eyes, but they look at me as if we’re old friends. Tiny forked tongues lick the air, gathering information I don’t want them to have.

  How is this happening?

  I ignore my mom’s second text, and lock myself in the stall to text Jade.

  What can I say? How can I possibly expect Jade to help me out of this?

  I cancel the text and think of getting Corey. But considering our fragile-as-of-late relationship just took a turn for the worse thanks to my hormotional snappiness, that option is off the table.

  My chest strains from lack of air. Zane is my only solution, since he’s the only one who knows about the snakes.

  I’m stuck with an impossible choice. Trust Zane to help me, or be shipped off to a medical lab for testing. At this point, I’m not sure which would be worse.

  I send a text to Zane, begging him to tell me how to return to normal. His return text is almost instant. “Don’t rein it in. Let Nature take her course.” I throw the phone to the floor in frustration.

  No freaking way.

  I sink my head into my hands, frustration driving me closer and closer to insanity. The snakes make a sizzling sort of sound, almost like they’re telling me what to do.

  The need to run through the halls to seek vengeance for all wrongs committed in this school tries to overtake me. Bullies ridiculing, mean teachers driving students to thoughts of suicide, the cranky lunch lady who gives the chubbier kids dirty looks. All of them deserve my wrath.

  The list of wrongdoers doesn’t end there. Corey not understanding me and the changes I’m going through. Zane pushing me to do his bidding, to follow him like a lost, desperate kitten. Ryder ordering me about like an overprotective boyfriend. My mom forcing me to go to appointment after appointment, trying to fix me.

  Blood drips from my eyes. The snakes—my snakes—are writhing madly, urging me on. Go, go, go!

  I leap off the toilet, rage consuming me. Why have I been thinking that I’m the one with the problem? I’m the one in the right here. Justice will be delivered.

  My heart pounds as male feet become visible on the other side of the stall door. I fling the door open, not caring who sees me in this state. Unscathed by the metal stall door hitting Ryder as I storm past him.

  Ryder?

  In the girls’ bathroom?

  “It’s okay, Felicia. I can help you.” His voice is calm and warm, a cup of hot cocoa on a miserable winter day. He holds his hands out toward me in a
way usually reserved for wild animals. Or raging lunatics.

  I turn toward the door, then whip around to face Ryder. The snakes bang together, hissing and tangling.

  “Don’t you have any sense of boundaries? This is a girls’ bathroom. Unless there’s something you’re not telling me, you need to hop off.”

  “I’m here to help.”

  I snort. Help me. As if.

  But my phone rings with my mom’s designated ringtone, and my anger begins to abate. The ringtone is a song my mom and I have danced to in the kitchen so many times. Memories of her love consume me, and guilt nearly knocks me over. Ryder looks at me with those eyes of his, so caring, so concerned, and I feel the blood of my eyes drying up. The snakes growing smaller.

  I’m ready to follow his instructions.

  Ryder moves closer to me, and though my first instinct is to back up, I hold my ground, knowing in my gut I’m safe with him. For a brief moment I question his motives, but decide if he can help me return to normal, it’s worth any price.

  “Breathe deep. All the way into your belly. You’re feeling lightheaded because you’re only breathing in your chest. Make your belly rise with each breath.” He moves closer, putting his hand on my arm. His touch soothes.

  He moves to embrace me from behind. His warmth makes me feels safe and secure, like I’m wrapped in a cocoon. His arms are strong but gentle, and his scent relaxes me further. I continue to breathe deep, watching his arms and mine as they rise with each breath I take.

  He turns so we are looking in the mirror. My snakes have almost disappeared. My color is returning to normal.

  “You are part Mercy,” Ryder whispers in my ear. His words are like velvet over my skin. “Grant yourself and your Fury some mercy.”

  He tells me about positive visualization and teaches me to meditate.

  I don’t know how much time has passed, but I finally look like myself again. And I’m not averse to how we look together, either, his arms wrapped around me, his head leaning close to mine. My head fits perfectly in his shoulder, but I resist the urge to lean back into him.

  Ryder pulls away from me, and I leap forward to examine myself closely in the mirror. No signs of the Fury at all.

  Excitement pours through me, making my stomach do flip flops and blood rush to my face. I turn around and rush toward Ryder to hug him, wanting to show my gratitude.

  Ryder jumps back when I come toward him, making it obvious he does not want any further physical contact from me. His jaw tightens, and he looks away.