Page 32 of Queen of Vengeance

Was this what it meant to grow up?

I hated it. The world’s monsters were swallowing up the goodness in me, and I hated it. I wanted to become stronger to protect what I had left from those monsters.

My fingers popped the cork off my condolence potion, and suddenly, a bright red stream of color burst out of the jar so fast that the glass shattered in my hand.

I nearly fell back from the force.

The animal that manifested for me was a giant red wolf that was howling in pain.

Suddenly, tears started streaming down my eyes again.

The sound of the howling was precisely the sound that my heart made when I found my parents dead.

Everyone else just looked at me in shock and silence.

Suddenly, the potion didn’t seem like such a good idea.

I felt like everyone could see me now.

Everyone now knew the actual pain in my heart.

It was hideous and ravenous, and as the other condolence potions died, mine continued.

I couldn’t take it anymore.

The way that their eyes watched me.

I darted away from the podium and into the trees. I wanted to go where no one could find me for a while. I wanted to be alone with my hideous and ravenous grief…

It had now been a few weeks since the funeral, and I started going back to school again, even though it didn’t feel right.

I had heart palpitations every time I left my grandmother alone in that house. I worried that Striker would return when I was not there to defend our home. I spent the entire day worrying until I could get home and see that she was alright.

As the weeks passed, I started to feel silly for worrying so much. That was until one day when I returned home to find Mema wrapping her bleeding hand in a dishtowel.

“What happened? Did Striker come back?” I questioned without thinking much about it. In hindsight, it was terrible of me to have brought up that situation so flippantly.

“What? No, dear. Nothing of the sort. I was just outside in the garden today, and one of the potions went sour and blew up in my face. Luckily, my hand was the only thing that took any damage.” Mema tried to laugh it off, but I could see how much pain she was in.

“You say that you don’t need your hands to do everything. Come, let’s go to the Healing Center. You really should get that looked at.” I assured Mema through the door despite her protest.

“I really don’t want to pester anyone. It’s such a small wound.” She tried to convince me, but I could see the sheer blood that was tainting the pale yellow towel.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You look like that potion turned your hand into a blood faucet.” I wasn’t about to hear any of it today.

We reached one of the neighboring villages, which had the closest Healing Center.

A nurse quickly checked her in, and another one came to inspect her wound. She peeled back the pale yellow towel, and I nearly fainted from how disfigured Mema’s hand was. “Goodness, this will take much more than just a potion to fix this.”

“That’s fine. Whatever she needs, we’ll figure out the payment later.” I agreed immediately without even discussing it with Mema.

“I’m sorry to inform you that the potions department has yet to receive payment for a line of debt that your family owes. We can only treat you or your grandmother once you fully repay the debt.”

“Are you serious? So you’re just going to let my grandmother walk around with a disfigured hand for the sake of money?” I was fuming at this point. It was a miracle that I didn’t shift under the amount of pressure I was under.

“I’m sorry, but that’s our policy. My hands are tied. If you can’t pay us back, we will have to seek any collateral that might be under your family’s name,” she added without much emotion. And it wasn’t as if she didn’t care, either. She had said this so many times before that she had become desensitized.

“You want to take away our home? You wanna take the only thing we have left? How despicable can you people be?” My eyes filled with hot tears, but I refused to cry in front of her.

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