Her Dark Sins

by T R Tells

  I nodded, impressed by her expertise. "Does this mean I can Naruto Run now?" I chuckled. "How do you know all of this?"

  She shrugged. "I had spare time in my tween years going to the hospital when I was sick. I was bored and learned about diseases from my parents' books, but a hospital roommate put me on to learning about balance, control, inner auras and such."

  I wanted to learn more about Helene, but she was such a closed-off person, forcing her to talk would only set her backward. In the short time we’ve known one another we made good progress. It was nice to finally be able to talk to someone about what I was going through.

  "And so, how do I work my 'third eye'?"

  "Balance and control. Know that negativity feeds your mind just like people's Apathy feeds those creatures. You have to be the one to control it, not the other way around. Imagine every aura channeling in the center of your forehead and will your eyes to change. You can try any tactic. I always take deep breaths; hold it for a few seconds, and then release."

  Helene demonstrated briefly.

  I nodded and pulled down the visor to look at my reflection. My violet eyes stared back at me.

  Balance… Control… Will…

  It was what the Apathy did to people. It took away their balance and their ability to control their thoughts. They let negativity affect their balance and their will to choose.

  I‘d been affected by it, but I managed to keep control of my life. But the Apathy lingered in me, and still had some minor effect on me and my powers, my way of thinking.

  It was not what I wanted, and it was certainly not what my dad wanted.

  Staring intently into my eyes, I took a deep breath and held it for several seconds.

  My eyes started to water. Imagine an aura at the center of your brow. I concentrated, my eyebrows twitching as I focused on the center. Finally, after I couldn't hold my breath any longer, I slowly started to exhale.

  I tried to imagine some kind of aura, but all I received was a small headache. "I don't think it worked, Helene."

  "Are you sure?"

  —And then I looked at my eyes.

  They weren't violet anymore, they were hazel.

  My eyes widened. I gasped. After three long months, I saw my hazel eyes again. However, after a moment, they returned back to violet.

  "You still need practice, but you did it. You managed to focus and return that control and balance back into your life."

  I turned to look at Helene. My lips stretched from ear to ear, and I knew my grin looked goofy.

  "Okay, you are freaking amazing!"

  "Oh, I know." She grinned. "And while we're on the subject, the bright light you mentioned. How did you see this? I remember reading a report about that in my parent's files."

  I retold the incident of Alessander's shooting, the lights, and what happened after I was knocked out. I explained my changes and everything I went through.

  "Does that sound similar to what you read?"

  Helene shrugged. "Maybe. I remember there was a report about a phenomenon happening in 2010 in Chicago’s Loop, an incident that had something to do with a light, but it was blacked-out and brief. I’m not sure even The Omega Institute had all the answers. Do you think that has something to do with it?"

  I frowned. There goes that lead.

  "And you and your uncle haven't found anything from what you told me?"

  I shook my head. "No, nothing new about the white light. During that explosion three months ago, the news reported that hundreds of people were injured, and there was a power outage that lasted for several weeks. That might be what’s causing people’s Apathy to manifest into reality."

  "Well, maybe you haven't lost too much control. You’re still you, and not a mindless corpse. Why is that, if you don’t mind me asking?"

  My smile faded, "My father died of a heart attack, but he always taught me to stand up for what I believe in. The world has always been a clusterfuck, and now there are all these Fiends taking advantage of people’s weakened state. I don't know if it has to be me, but someone’s gotta do something —so I might as well."

  Helene looked at me and nodded. "I’ve never heard someone speak like that before. I respect that. I'm sorry about your dad, and I think the more I get to know you, the more I want to help you make a difference."

  Knowing that I wasn’t alone in this made me feel better about the things I might get into, and it was nice to have someone who understood.

  "Thank you… I guess this means we're goodie-goodie friends now?"

  Helene rolled her eyes and smiled. "On one condition… "She held up her finger and looked at me from the corner of her eye. "I come up with names from now on."

  "Well, you drive a hard bargain, but deal."

  ***

  We parked outside of the Six Corners outlet where my uncle's bookshop was located. Helene locked the car door as we walked into the shopping district. There weren't a lot of people since it was only a little after one.

  "Have you been here?" I asked her as we walked side by side, passing by stores like Lane Bryant, Ralph Lauren, Victoria’s Secret, and Old Navy.

  "When I moved in with my grandparents, I did a few times. I haven’t visited all the stores, though, but they have a huge food court that I’d love to be trapped in if there was a zombie apocalypse."

  My eyes widened, and I nodded. "Yes, right? Ohmygosh. I would gain thirty pounds and not care because the food is so good. We have to hang out here sometime. I think my friend Mahogany would love you."

  "You Classics Books?" Helene read when we stopped in front of the store. "Interesting, not the best name, but it definitely gets your attention."

  We stepped inside, causing the bell on the door to ring

  The building was medium-sized, and had four rows of bookshelves in the front and three more in the back. In the middle of the store was a green cushioned couch and a table with a 'New York Times Bestselling authors' centerpiece on display.

  I’d always wanted my books to be showcased like that.

  Helene slowly turned in circles as she observed the book store.

  "Uncle Garvy!" I shouted, pressing the bell on the counter profusely. "Garrison Ford, you have visitors!"

  The backdoor opened, and Garvy appeared, wiping his hands on a cloth. The look on his face immediately drooped, and he eyed me disapprovingly.

  I hated it when he jumped to conclusions, but I guess I did say I wouldn't get into any more trouble.

  "What did you do now?"

  "Jeez, Uncle Garvy, have more faith in me, will you? I told you I would be careful, and I am—but there's something you should know."

  I gestured for Helene to approach. Garvy raised his thick brow until she turned her eyes violet. His jaw dropped, and his attention turned back to me.

  "She's like me, and there are some new things I learned about the Fiends."

  Garvy stepped from behind the counter and went to the front of the store. He flipped the sign to say that he’d be on break and gestured for us to follow him downstairs.

  I’d been downstairs in the book store before. It was where Uncle Garvy took used or ruined books to repair them. His father had been a successful shoemaker, but Garvy chose to follow his love for books rather than follow in his father's footsteps.

  We walked through the archway. Bookcases surrounded the walls of the basement, filled with rare classics dating as far as the 15th century. A square glass table stood in the middle of the room with refurbished books on it. Uncle Garvy was more than a bookworm; he was the kind of person that was still enraged by the burning of the Alexandria library.

  My uncle was the reason I loved history and novels so much.

  "I can see why you started reading Leo Tolstoy," Helene commented, walking over to a table that had a collection of books. "Are all these first editions?"

  Garvy nodded and walked over to her. "They are. I've spent every penny looking for these. Each book can cost about worth millions, selling several heirlooms ove
r the years, made it all worth it in the end. The knowledge that you obtain from reading is incomprehensible and can't be bought."

  Helene pursed her lips and nodded. "No, I get it. Books are separate worlds, like personalities, and you can befriend characters as you immerse yourself in their stories. You can learn a great deal of language, politics, vocabulary, and grammar—all by reading. It’s why communication is universal; without it, where would we even be today?"

  I could tell Garvy was speechless that someone shared his passion.

  "Impressive. I like that someone so young acknowledges the importance of reading. So, what do you have to tell me?"

  I explained to him everything that happened today. He, of course, groaned when I told him about the fight with the Fiend (which Helene corrected me, saying their new name would be Umbra Shades. I had to admit, she was better at making names). I then informed him that there might be stronger Umbra Shades, and they can summon (what Helene now calls) Shrouds—the black blob creatures.

  Helene even told him what she told me.

  Garvy rubbed his chin. "This is interesting. So it does seem like these creatures are evolving. As you said, they’re like viruses combating against you. This white light seems to be a key in all of this. I'll have to look up things that started in Chicago in 2010 and see if anyone reported something about a bright white light."

  "Thanks, Uncle Garvy."

  "And make sure you two are safe. It seems like things are getting more dangerous. You did a good thing saving those girls, but now it's a matter of your identity. It helps that Helene showed you a way to change your eye color back, but you have to be more on top of things."

  Helene smirked, "So when do I get my mask, Alfred?"

  "Just wear some kind of hood; anything to obscure your features."

  Helene gave a thumbs up. "Roger that," she said, and started exploring the basement’s library, leaving Garvy and me to talk.

  "You know I don't like you skipping school. This can't—"

  "I know," I interrupted him before he could finish. "It was for Alessander after he woke up, but then I had to check on Mahogany."

  Uncle Garvy sighed. "How is he?"

  My throat tightened as I thought of Alessander, and how he didn't remember me. Then seeing Veronica huddled close to him.

  "He has amnesia, he doesn't remember anything, and his ex is back. She's probably corrupting him, and I have a bad feeling that says Veronica is like me."

  Garvy let out another sigh. "Oh, boy." He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me into him. "I have no words of wisdom for you, Kiddo, but think before you act. You're going to have to use that noggin of yours. Just don't be reckless while doing it."

  Easier said than done, but I would try my best.

  My phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled away from Garvy to look at it, my heart pounding in my chest… but it dropped in disappointment when I saw that it wasn't from who I expected it to be.

  Of course it wouldn't be him.

  "Hey, Juniper," I said, seeing Alessander's older sister's name pop up after I answered. I walked toward the stairwell and headed back to the surface.

  "Hira, it's been too long. You sound so grown up, how are you?" she asked. I hadn't seen her since last Christmas.

  After some short pleasantries, she told me that she was in town, but when she went to the hospital, they said his 'girlfriend' had discharged him. He hasn't been home – I heard a choked sobbed on the other end, before she continued – and his phone keeps going to voicemail. She had to tell her parents to hold off calling the police before they received any answers.

  I immediately told her about Veronica, and how Alessander had amnesia.

  "Oh, so she's back," was all Juniper said, and I wondered if they had history. "Hira, don't worry about anything. No matter what that girl tells him, Alessander will always love you."

  I sighed. "I know, thank you. I'll let you know when I find him."

  We hung upright as a text flashed on my phone.

  It was from Trey.

  Trey: You won't believe this.

  I pressed the link that Trey had sent me, and it led to Alessander's Instagram page. It showed him on stage, rapping, but after a moment, it turned around to show Veronica's face saying how 'she was so proud of her man.' The time the story had been posted was just a little over an hour ago.

  I gripped my phone, blood boiling. I could feel the heat rising from my skin at Veronica’s false proclamation of stealing my man.

  I jumped when I caught movement from the corner of my eye. Helene was looking over my shoulder at my phone.

  "That's her?"

  I nodded. I could see a gleam in Helene’s eyes, and she grinned. "Well, then let us get this bitch."

  Chapter Nine

  It took Helene and me forty or so minutes to get to the location that was tagged on the Instagram post. The club was located on the far end of Northside in Uptown’s Margate park. Back when my dad was alive, the whole family would go to the theatre there. I remembered the first time I saw Cats (Broadway, not the terrible movie); it was a fantastic experience.

  It was already starting to get dark thanks to the winter season. The bright lights from neon sights and street lights illuminated the dark areas of Uptown to cast a spectacular glimmer that would dazzle any first time visitor.

  I would’ve been amazed myself, but my mind was busy reeling with anger as I rewatched the video of Veronica proclaiming Alessander as her boyfriend.

  If I gripped my phone any harder, I’d probably break it. I was just so frustrated and sad, wanting nothing more to punch Veronica in the face.

  Helene must have sensed my intense emotions because she tapped me on the shoulder. I looked at her, seeing the sympathy on her face.

  “We are going to get there, Hira. I promise. I’ll hold her down, and you can beat her ass.”

  I smirked and wiped under my eye with my free hand. “Thanks, Helene. You know, for coming with me. You didn’t have too.”

  She shrugged. Her attention was on the road, but she had an expression I couldn’t read. “Of course. It’s hard to do things when you can’t turn to anyone for help.”

  I frowned. Was there something she wasn’t telling me?

  I was about to ask her what she meant, but we had pulled up in front of a bar and theatre. The pink neon sign read ‘The Paper Doll’, and the glow casting down on the sidewalk illuminated a line waiting at the entrance that trailed its way around the corner.

  I recognized the name The Paper Doll from an article my mom had written in the Tribune. It was a new upscale theatre that was newly renovated after taking the place of another establishment fifty years ago.

  “Fancy! And here we are looking like two high school girls,” Helene said. She craned her neck forward to survey the people slowly entering as the two bouncers checked them.

  “That’s because we are,” I stated plainly.

  She rolled her eyes and snorted. “Thanks, Captain Obvious, but we aren’t getting in looking like this. My ass is going to freeze out there, and the bouncer isn’t going to allow us inside.”

  Helene glanced behind her and made a U-turn, before heading into the 24 Hour parking lot beside it. We parked the car, and I focused on my eyes again to turn them hazel. I grinned from ear to ear at the accomplishment and fist bumped the air.

  I got out of the car. “So, what now?”

  “You’re getting better at it,” Helene said and ushered me to follow her. We could see the backs of people’s heads as they waited to get in, but instead, we walked in the alleyway beside the bar.

  “All places usually have a side door where the busboys throw out trash in the dump.”

  I gagged, covering my face, as the rancid smell of whatever had gone bad stung my nose.

  “Gosh, it smells so ba—”

  Helene stretched out her arm and slammed it into my chest to stop me. I flinched and grabbed at my collar from the sudden hit. I was about to ask her what happened when
I saw what she was looking at: two people were standing at the metal door, trying to break in.

  Except, I recognized one of them, and she had copper red hair.

  “Amelia.”

  Like I figured, she snapped her head around, her curls gently cascading down her shoulders like she was moving in slow motion. Her cherry red lips turned into a frown when she saw it was me in the darkness.

  I really disliked her with a passion, but man was I envious her hair could do that. It was like she was the embodiment of Beyoncé; I bet Amelia Bennett really did ‘wake up like this’.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked. Helene and I both approached her, now that we knew it wasn’t anyone threatening.

  I looked down at the second person who was trying to break into the door and recognized Alexei. I never understood why Alexei stuck around Amelia. If he was caught helping her like this, he would be expelled from school, and his foreign exchange program would be over, sending him back to Ukraine.

  “We should be asking you that,” Helene said, crossing her arms over her chest. She looked her up and down. Amelia, as usual, did the same.

  “I do what I please,” she said with one hand on her hip. She had a Louis Vuitton bag in the crook of her other arm, gleaming in the streetlights (I could not understand how she could afford to have a new bag every day).

  “But if you must know, I’m getting a scoop,” she said, pulling a Polaroid camera from her purse. “The latest news of Alessander Drake waking up from a three-month coma, recovering from an incident that left hundreds injured or dead, and in less than 24-hours performing live on stage? Something like that is what the public wants to hear.”

  And here she goes again. She wanted to be a journalist, but she was acting like a paparazzi for TMZ. But before I could state my opinion, Helene was already speaking,

  “Gosh, you are nothing but a leech always waiting for the ‘big scoop.’ Is this generation really so lost and needy that they need to be first to catch on to a new trend? ‘Woke’ my ass. You all are dead and suffering, the only thing keeping you alive is what’s new in entertainment or who you should follow next— Oh, and let’s not forget what filter frame you should use.”