POWERLESS • mikaelson mate

chapter four

CHAPTER FOUR

three years later

The last time my magic got out of control, I came away unscathed. This time, I had burns covering my hands, hands that trembled as I stared at them with fear and helplessness. I don't know why my magic seems to favor fire. Years ago, that fire had saved my life but this time it could have killed me.

Dropping my hands to my sides, I let out a shaky breath as I made eye contact with my reflection. The motel mirror was made from a flimsy material and was covered in grime that no cleaner had dared remove. My eyes were bloodshot and defeated. I hadn't slept since the accident five days ago, guilt eating me alive.

I hadn't used my magic in six years, repressing it deep within me until it suddenly exploded from me. Luckily, I hadn't hurt anyone other than myself, but the fear and trauma that innocent people suffered made me feel like I deserved the burn wounds. Much to my dismay, the doctor had told me that I had been lucky and my hands would heal with minimal scarring.

This whole week had felt like a wake up call. I had spent three years enjoying life, putting off the inevitable. With the accident came a realization that I needed to learn how to control my magic before I actually hurt someone. 

Carefully rewrapping my hands in bandages, I left the motel bathroom, my wet hair dripping from my shower, and sat on the bed, listening to the crude noises coming from the rooms either side of me.

This was what freedom looked like: sleeping in cheap motels with overenthusiastic neighbors and suspicious stains on the bed sheets. When I had first embarked on my adventures, it had all been part of the fun and something I could overlook. Now, however, I felt disgusted by it.

I was now at the point when I had to accept that this life wasn't working for me anymore. Traveling around and constantly being on the road used to be fun. Now I just longed for a home.

I was free, completely and utterly free, but I was also lonely. I had spent my freedom all alone, with the exception of three beautiful months nearly two years ago. Now all I had were memories captured by photograph and hidden in a box in the boot of my car.

I knew what I needed to do, I had made the decision in a fit of panic after I came out of hospital, but it didn't make the decision any less nerve wracking. I was scared and I felt the overwhelming need to run but I suppressed it. I had to do this.

Before I could once again talk myself out of it, I stood and quickly dressed in an emerald green dress that fell to just below my knees. It had long sleeves that concealed the tops on my hands, the reason I had chosen to wear it in the first place. I would have worn gloves, but I thought that would make my hands stand out even more since the weather was incredibly warm at this time of year.

Tucking my hair behind my ears, I gave the mirror a reassuring smile before grabbing my car keys and leaving the room, dragging my suitcase behind me. Once I'd checked out of the motel, I quickly paced towards my car, ignoring the leers and wolf whistles from a group of men, who leant against an old pickup truck as they passed around a cigarette.

Making it safely into my car, I turned the radio on as I began the long drive to the address I had memorized. I hoped that it was up to date because the alternative would likely be a lot messier.

Over an hour into the drive, I began to get deeper and deeper into the countryside. Fields flanked either side of the road with the occasional long driveway that led to houses beyond my view. My surroundings made me feel somewhat peaceful; I had always dreamed of living away from the chaos of people.

Finally, I turned down a winding road bordered by trees. I reached the end of the road, turned into the driveway and quickly parked the car. I sat there for a moment, nervously tapping my fingers on the steering wheel as I looked at the house.