Liz won't be coming home early today, if at all. Mom was a doctor, but she always managed to find time for us, and I used to admire that about her. Now that she has left, I wonder how she created that impression through sheer time management and her ability to really be present, body and mind, because thinking back, it was an impression, because her job had not been any less busy than it should have been.
I close the door behind me and scan the house. I can say that I have developed some security issues after everything that happened. I don't see anyone or anything out of place. I don't really feel relieved, but I don't feel like I plunged into icy water either, and that is a victory already.
I run upstairs, to the room I'm sharing with Liz. Indeed, I have not returned to my room after all this time. It just feels natural and good now to stay together. That prevents bouts of coldness at night when there is no sound, and that prevents me from feeling alone.
I throw a glance at the closed door at the end of the corridor. After tidying up our parents' room, Liz and I have not been there again.
I go inside our shared room and turn on the laptop on the desk to search for self-defense courses around my place. There are many choices, and I don't make any definitive choice. I save the webpage with different addresses to look into later. After I empty the water bottle I carried to school, I change my clothes for sports clothes, snuggly shorts and a tank top, and return downstairs with Liz's yoga mat.
When I stop in front of the empty space in the middle of the living room, I am reminded of mom. Even close to fifty, she has remained a beauty with a shapely figure. She was almost like a mature and elegant version of Liz. They even looked like sisters when standing together. It never looked like they were not family.
I smile at the memory. I can reminisce with a smile now, one with less sadness. I spread the mat, and I position myself for cardio exercise. Hands down supporting the straight body with the feet below.
Since I want a body that is stronger, I will start with the engine. Anyway, there is no one to look at my chest through the space left by gravity pulling my top down.
I start pulling my knees up, and I immediately regret not wearing a bra underneath. At least being small is showing to be an advantage here. If it has been Liz doing the same thing without a bra, I can only imagine the spectacle.
I smile a bit at that before I focus and become solemn. Now, with my body occupied with the repetitive movements, I have the time to consider what happened before more deeply.
Maybe in the hundreds to thousands of people I crossed paths with in the past few months, I met much of the portion of the population with something supernatural to it, but Tyne is the second telepath I met, the second one I can confirm at least. However, they seem too different to me.
That cold voice, I don't think I will ever forget it. The cold, emotionless superiority, it was more frigid than winter chill. That is the impression it gave me. To say it matches my image of the military is a lie. If anything, it instead matches how a group of people thinking they are superior to others would behave. And that is what is confusing me. Because Tyne, that pervert I don't manage to see as a teacher anymore also has a feeling of superiority behind his genial facade.
But Tyne's superiority is also different from the one of the fake road policeman. The first was simply chilly, but Tyne's was not pure and indifferent, it was more disgusting. It is like a snake's cold, slimy body against my naked skin, a repulsive perversion that he lets out while putting himself above.
It is that difference that is making me unable to determine how to take the situation. It is also my lack of knowledge about the superpowers that is clouding my mind.
"Huff… Huff… Huff… Huff…"
My body is heating up. My heart is pounding, and my breath is becoming heavy. The shorts are absorbing the sweat from my thighs, especially from my crotch. My top is pasted against my back and the sweat from my chest is dripping onto the falling front of my tank top with some taking the path to slide over my breasts to my nipples.
The exertion is making me less focused, but at the same time, it is pulling the fog out of my mind.
Suddenly I'm feeling alive in a different way. I'm feeling my body more deeply. I'm chasing away remnants of shadows I know are still in me, but without ever truly finding them. After all, I keep telling myself that the memories I have woken up with are just echoes, but echoes are still traces, and traces, some of them, are difficult to erase. Most only change form, even.
Now life seems simpler. But I know that the sensation is only for a moment, and maybe for all the other moments when I will be sweating and tiring myself too much to think too much.
I spit out of my mouth a strand of my somewhat blonde hair.
I have been thinking too much. It seems necessary, but actually it matters little that Tyne is part of a group. Even if he is, I can't do anything. What I can do is protect myself, and protect Emmie too. So going forward, I only need to take it one step at a time.
Relief floods my body in an exhilarating way as the weight that has distracted me throughout the day leaves my body. Though I'm sure the sweat I'm working up is also part of the reason.
What I have decided before is what I need to do. For the outside world, nothing has changed in Max Lockdream after the accident. She has only grieved, and become more driven. The pervert can read minds, but I can too. I know he can, but he doesn't know I can.
I smile at that. It is like clouds parting to give way to the sunlight. I will keep pretending, but now, I have to decide.
Should I defend and keep Emmie and I safe? Or should I do something?
Attack or defense?