Chapter 17
Amity POV:
It's raining. Hard. I've been watching the droplets throw themselves against the window for the past half an hour. When the thunder cracks and the lightning breaks across the sky in great streaks of light, it echoes through the otherwise empty Owl House, casting long dark shadows across the hardwood floor.
She's not home yet. Why isn't she home yet?
It's late and dark and stormy and she's out there somewhere with Eda and King. If I had less pride, I'd call her. I'll wait just ten more minutes.
It's cold, but I don't have the energy to go get a blanket or more wood for the fire that crackles and dies before me.
My thoughts are as lost as I feel in this house that isn't quite a home to me yet. Everything about this feels wrong, and I still can't quite believe any of this has happened.
We were fine. We were happy. Now everything's all messed up.
What am I supposed to say to them when they get home?
'Hi, remember me? I'm the girl who tried to kill you.'
I don’t even remember. How can I not remember? Nothing about this seems real.
Maybe I’m dreaming. Maybe if I close my eyes and concentrate really hard, I’ll wake up somewhere else. I squeeze my eyes shut and pray that I'll open them to see my bedroom, all four walls protecting me from this. How cruel life can be.
It’s lonely here, with no one home. I feel so useless, so weak. Even a child could do a light spell, and now, I can’t. With all of the strength I have left, I pray for Luz to come back for me. To take me with them. I open my eyes.
The same dim lighting of the Owl House greets my eyes along with a strong sense of disappointment. Luz is nowhere to be seen.
Another flash of lightning streaks across the sky, casting long fiendish shadows over the floor.
“Where are you?” I whisper out loud as I shiver from the cold.
I just want to go home. Not to my house, not to the Coven, not to Hexide. I guess I’m not really sure where home is anymore. I’ve been living at the Owl House for about a week now, fading in and out of consciousness. When I’m awake, I try to avoid the people here as much as possible, even Luz. I’m just like a ghost who occasionally drifts through the rooms, not quite alive enough to do any good, but not dead enough to stay out of the way.
Yesterday was the first time I ventured out of Luz’ room, trying my luck at the stairs. That was a bad idea though; Eda found me lying on the bottom step when she got back from the market. She said she wasn’t sure how long I’d been there, just that I’d hit my head on the way down. After that, I set up camp on the sofa in the living room, but I don’t like taking up the communal space. It’s better for me to just stay out of the way, up in the dark corner of the house where I can’t hurt myself again.
The Owl Lady isn’t anything like the Coven told me she was. She’s much kinder, much wiser but with a childlike spirit similar to Luz’.
Another thing I’ve learned since I’ve been staying at the Owl House is Luz’ odd sleeping habits. She wakes up at odd times, often getting up and sitting by the window for a while. Once, I even saw her take out a journal and start to write in it when she couldn’t sleep. I thought about reading it to quench the boredom, but I don’t want to invade her privacy.
She said she used to sleep in a bed at home, but prefers the sleeping bag cocoon she’s made for herself on the floor. I’m not sure if she means that, or just wanted to make me feel better about sleeping in the bed.
I often find myself wondering what life is like back in the human world. It can’t be without its ups and downs, but maybe they’re more accepting there than here.
I look up quickly at the sound of the front door slamming open. The once quiet house is immediately filled with noise as Eda, King and Luz hurry into the warmth and dry of the living room.
“Hey, take your shoes off, kid!” Eda scolds as Luz makes her way across the room. “I don’t wanna clean up that mess.”
She’s right; King has left a trail of muddy pawprints into the kitchen, where he has scampered off in search for food. Luz grins, pulling her trainers off and leaving them at the front door. Eda’s magic kept them dry, but their shoes didn’t stand a chance against the muddy forest floor. She watches Eda follow King out of the room before flopping down on the sofa next to me.
“Hey,” she says. I smile back weakly. “How are you feeling?”
I shrug, unsure of what answer she wants me to give. “I missed you.”
For a moment, she looks stunned as her eyes widen and a blush creeps onto her cheeks. Gentle laughter erupts from her mouth as she shoves my arm gently. “That was sappy.” she tells me with a grin, and this time, it’s my turn to flush red.
“How is everything in town?” I ask her, eager to change the subject.
A soft sigh escapes her lips, as she leans into the arm of the sofa. The corners of her mouth turn down into a frown. “The place is plagued with guards.” she explains. “I don’t think we stand a chance against the Coven.”
I turn my gaze away from her as her words take a stab at my pride. I won’t tell her how much it hurts me, how guilty I feel, how much I wish I could go back and change everything, but I can’t.
“What is this, a revolution?” I joke, trying to ease the tension.
She gives me a pointed look, a look that says there’s something more hiding beneath the surface. As she turns her eyes away from me, I can feel the mood shift. Now there is a space between us, as well as her black mood. She sighs again, sinking back into the cushions. Instinctively, I slide away from her a little, giving her space. She notices, looking up at me. Her eyes are laced with confusion and hurt, and I can tell she took that movement the wrong way. I want to say something, but suddenly my vocabulary is sucked dry. With a slight shrug of her shoulders, she stands, moving towards the stairs quickly.
“I’m going to change my clothes.” she tells me, her hand gripping around the wooden banister.
“Luz, wait.” She stops, feet already positioned to ascend the stairs. “Will you help me up?” I watch her hesitate for a long moment, before she turns back to face me.
“Sure.” she says, halfheartedly.
Her feet carry her quickly towards the sofa, where she holds a hand out to me. I take it, staggering to my feet with a groan.
Her cold facade melts almost immediately, as a worried expression crosses her face. An arm wraps around my waist, and I lean back slightly into the support.
“Does it still hurt?” she asks me tentatively. I’m not sure why, since the answer is fairly obvious. I nod anyway. “I’m so sorry.” she whispers into my hair as we make our way up the stairs.
I pretend not to hear her.