Libby’s POV~
Many are the hours I’ve wasted reading myths and legends. I don’t know why they appeal to me so much. Many of the characters are unlikable, the stories sometimes exalt values and lessons best left to a bygone era, and there are more translations and interpretations than you could fill a Parthenon with… There’s so many reasons not to bother with them at all and just enjoy their overwhelming influence over modern pop culture. So, why?
“But because of you.”
“I know I can be.”
“Someday.”
The video cuts off a few seconds after the final line to the anticlimactic soundtrack of confused silence and a couple scattered and poorly held chuckles. I can feel Tammy’s eyes on me as I try to process what I just saw. My best friend probably thinks the lyrics have gotten to me, with their references to a shared past and Haley’s regrets… Or, maybe Tammy thinks the fact Haley and the wolf are working together is the most stunning quality of that video, which, for a general audience, it might be.
I reach out and swipe my finger across the progress bar at the bottom of the screen to rewind it to the very beginning. Arnie is trembling like a leaf, and Haley reaches out. Her large, clawed hand grasps their shoulder gently, and she whispers something the camera can’t pick up.
No malice, no violence, no anger or judgment. The gesture, the expression, her eyes, they’re… kind, comforting even. They’re Haley’s.
Maybe I enjoy myths and fables, tales of heroes and monsters, because at the heart of it all, there’s something to relate to in them. There exists something imminently human and imperfect in each of their larger-than-life figures. You might not always like the characters they provide, but at certain times, we all fall into a familiar role.
Staring at the woman I never thought I’d see again, I’m looking out past the horizon of Ithaca, glimpsing a ship in the distance, waiting for my heroine to return.
***
The day passes at an agonizing pace despite my pleas to any time deity I can remember off the top of my head. I guess every Father Time is a deadbeat dad. As the lunch bell sounds at last, I rush out to the hallway, hoping to catch sight of Haley. As luck would have it, she dashes out of a classroom at around the same time, trying to rush past faster than a comet.
“Wait!” I call out, causing her to stumble and nearly faceplant in the middle of the hall. She looks dumbfounded, even checking behind her before pointing at herself. “Yes, you. Of course, you!”
Slithering out to meet her in the walkway, and freeing the small army of students I’d unknowingly trapped behind me in the classroom doorway, I see Haley’s eyes go wide. “You… actually want to talk? With me?” Her expression develops from surprise to concern. “What’s wrong?”
“Does something have to be wrong to catch up?”
“With us? Yes. Absolutely.” She exhales heavily, recalling the few run-ins we’ve had these past couple years as I do the same. “This is about that goddamn poem, isn’t it?”
Right to the point, as usual. “Yeah, well, it was the most newsworthy thing to happen around here recently.” She groans and crosses her arms. “You didn’t honestly expect Tammy not to show me the video, right?”
“I was more hoping that damn harpy wouldn’t record something like that,” Haley growls. “Go on, take your jabs. It was lame. Laugh at me. Tell me I’m an idiot for going along with it.”
“Why did you do it?”
The pained face Haley makes tells me she would have preferred ridicule to questioning. “Look, obviously that sappy bullshit really isn’t my thing, but the furball asked me to help out.” She stops as if finished, but I keep looking right into her eyes, bidding her to continue. “I owed her, okay!? I fucked up! I fucked up royally! I was the worst fucking person imaginable to her, and I wanted to do something to…” Her words grind to a quiet halt. “Not make up for it. There are things you can’t really make up for. She can say she forgives me… but what I did was beyond out of line and I just wanted to bring her peace.”
There she is again. For just a second, before Haley snaps out of her thought and re-brandishes the mask she’s chosen to live behind, she was here. “Her?” I ask, picking up on my ex’s specific choice of words. “Does that mean she–”
“Yeah, Luna is back to being herself.” Haley’s eyes lose focus as she looks somewhere far away for a second. “Even got a shiny new metamorphosis to seal the deal.” The demon smiles with a sincerity I think neither of us would have expected of her again. “So at least I didn’t ruin her life. Not completely.”
Subconsciously, my hand moves up to hold her forearm. The news about Luna is wonderful, and even if I’m more than happy for her, the first thing that comes to mind is, “She changed a second time. So can you.”
Haley shakes her head, and me, off her arm. “No. She got to change again because her first change had been a mistake. She wasn’t what she looked like. Me… I’m woefully represented as accurately as can be.”
I can feel my teeth gritting in frustration, a familiar sensation when seeing her face. “All of this goddamn time and you’re still convinced that you’re anything like that woman? That you’re the monster she is?”
“Of course. I’ve been challenged and tested, and failed profoundly so many times.”
“But not always!” My voice raises as I push my body up onto my tail to meet Haley at eye level. “You and I both know she never would have helped Luna. That she never would have befriended Willow. Hell, she abandoned you and Phoebe and you’ve been there looking after your sister like the goddamn mother she never was!”
“But I–”
With a sharp hiss, louder than I mean to release, my hand flies to Haley’s face and covers her mouth. “Holy shit, I forgot how frustrating you can be to talk to!” I can feel the eyes of passerby in the hall and I instinctively sink lower, my hand leaving the demoness’s face.
The scarlet woman is stunned for a moment before chuckling. “It’s been a long time since you last tried to comfort me. And you still have your temper about it. Feels like a total throwback.”
She’s right, and I can’t help but laugh a little at the absurdity of the situation myself. A silence settles after the levity, but it’s not uncomfortable in the least. “I mean it, Haley. You can be so much more. You can be you again.”
Seeing her up close, standing near enough to appreciate the hue of her eyes and the subtle tugs of an expression she wants to keep hidden, it’s like living the last pleasant memories I have of her all over again. Then she raises a deep red hand in-front of her, and her tail flicks out from behind, making itself known in her field of vision. “I can’t. Much as I want to… how can I?”
The desperate question hangs in the air, functionally rhetorical, but with an underlying desire for a real answer. I can’t tell if there really isn’t a perfect answer to this question, or if I simply lack the experience to know what it could be. “I don’t know,” I admit, hating that here’s nothing I can say to help. “But whatever it is, whatever you finally figure out that brings the real you back to the surface, it’ll be worth it to have you around again.”
“Says you.”
“Yeah. Says me,” I says flatly, internally screaming at the stubborn self-loathing of hers I can do nothing to curb.
“It’s too bad,” Haley says, her voice lowering with each syllable until the ghost of a whisper barely escapes her lips. “Too bad that if I ever manage to fix all the bullshit I’ve got going on, it’s too late to keep you from hating me.”
“Hate you?” I repeat, the words tasting vile as they pass. “I could never hate you. Oh, I’ve been fucking pissed off at you. I could think some very unkind things about your actions and character and absolutely scream into a pillow with frustration… But I don’t hate you.”
“That last call of ours sounded an awful lot like hate to me,” the demoness answers matter-of-factly, in her mind, already resigned to being right.
Appreciating the fact that the student foot traffic around us has died down significantly, I raise my voice. “It was anger. Justified anger. I followed your lead for so long, going along with the bullshit you wanted to do, and the first time I really tried to get you to stop, you wouldn’t even listen to me. I let you lead me into hell, and I don’t blame you for that, because every step I took, I took of my own will. But I found my limit.”
“And you left.”
“You’re goddamn right I left. Another step down and I knew I wouldn’t be the same person anymore.” My gaze is locked onto Haley’s as my coils tighten with reluctance to say the rest of what I need to get off my chest. “Do you want to know the saddest part? Even on our worst day… our last day… I didn’t hate you. Not really. Not for a single moment. And as I pulled myself back out of the furnace, I hoped that you were following behind me, or that somehow you would one day.”
Haley seems almost taken aback, and in a voice lacking her patented sarcasm and dry, targetless disdain, she asks, “Are you still hoping for that?”
These are the moments that try mortal souls… and I ain’t about to earn my place in any kind of heaven today. “I hadn’t hoped for a while… But because of a poem… I know I can hope… Someday.” The cadence at which I speak inspires a furious look in the demon’s eyes as she looks to the ceiling and moans in agony.
***
Haley’s POV~
The handle of the bathroom sink shrieks as I turn off the faucet and the water in the basin drains to the tune of a low gurgle. My eyes are used to never looking up while washing my hands. I already know that doing so will only hurt.
Years ago, Libby was talking folklore to me, and I was taking playful jabs at the stories and tales she’d recall. At this point, most of the details of her infodumps have escaped me, and I’ll never fish the name out of deep storage, but she mentioned a monster in the mirror. If memory serves, it’s a malevolent spirit that takes the form of your reflection and will drag you into the mirror’s world for daring to look into its eyes. The wicked reflection then takes your place and lives life in your place, free to spread its hatred and malice to others. At the time, I laughed.
I take a steadying breath and look up into eyes I don’t recognize anymore.
For so long, her reflection has taken over my life. Even so, I don’t see myself trapped behind the glass, just more and more of Helena.
Remembering why I avoid mirrors like the plague, I turn away from the offensive surface and start heading home. I don’t want to spend too much time thinking of useless things and end up late to pick up Phoebe from the bus stop.
I could never hate you.
There I go, letting more useless and wonderful things bounce around in my skull like an old screensaver, constantly tapping the edges of my mind, but never finding a comfortable corner to call home. As nonsensical as Libby’s statement feels… it still draws my lips into a slight smile as I quietly walk toward home.
***
Near the turn off from the main road that leads to Phoebe’s bus stop is the park. I’m immediately reminded of the woman I blew off today and hope she–
Wait… are those bunny ears peaking up from behind a shrubbery? Either a bush is trying out moe cosplay, or Willow is right here. There’s still a bit of time before Phoebe’s bus comes by. I can at least say hi, try to explain going no-contact before, apologize for lunch today. It’s too perfect a coincidence. My feet lead me around the hooked metal fence and into the park.
My entire body freezes as I catch a glimpse of the woman standing right in front of the bunny I came to see. This isn’t possible. There’s not a single goddamn chance this is happening. At some point on my walk home, I tripped, cracked my head on the sidewalk, and ended up in hell. That’s the only way of explaining the literal devil standing twenty feet away.
Neither Willow nor the woman has noticed me, and every time I open my mouth, only the pathetic ghost of a wheeze escapes my throat. Despite having entirely too much saliva to swallow right now, my throat never feels any less dry. Dry like my eyes, which are refusing to close. Closed like my lungs, which refuse to breathe. Breathe like my mind is screaming for me to do as my entire body aches from the lack of air.
My claws dig into my palm and the sharp pain forces my striking airways to work once more. I almost let myself consider the situation logically, but I realize this isn’t the time for thought. This is the time to stomp over to the pair and yell, “what the fuck are you doing here!?”
Helena looks at me with a deadpan confusion. “Excuse me, but aside from your stunning good looks, I don’t believe I know you.”
That’s right… she never would have seen me like this. “Funny way to greet your daughter. Now again, why the fuck are you here!?”
“Daughter?” She asks, realization lighting her features before taking a darker, more wicked turn. “My daughter? Haley!?” She looks me up and down and bursts into a malicious cackle. “Really? You turned into me? How… flattering and pathetic.”
My jaw clenches to the point my teeth could shatter. “You should be anything but flattered. I didn’t become like this, like you, out of any twisted sense of admiration. I became you because Phoebe needed a mother. She needed someone that wouldn’t ditch her at the first opportunity. Your failure, your fuckup, is why I’m like this.”
The woman in front of me has the gall to scoff at my words. “Well, guess you’re in luck then, since I’m here to take care of the little runt.”
My mind freezes over as I struggle to process her words. “You? Take care of someone? You’ve got to be joking.” Her obvious punchline falls flatter than month-old soda. “You leave for years, and now you just show up like you finally found your way home? Nobody wants you, Lassie. You can stay gone.”
The smile on my mother’s face doesn’t fade, but it shifts into something darker and familiar as she leans in slightly. Even Willow picks up on the sudden change as she steps back a bit, looking between the two demons in front of her with concern. “Watch your mouth, brat, or have you forgotten my policy on backtalk?”
“I remember, and I’ll be damned if you ever come near Phoebe again.”
“I never laid a finger on her, and you know it,” the monster boasts, somehow proud of herself for this fact. The disgust on my face must be apparent because her lips curl up even further. “You, though, were a glutton for punishment.”
“Willow,” I call out to the woman, who looks uncomfortable enough to actually burrow underground. My eyes drift off of Helena long enough to find hers, even if I don’t turn my head. “There’s a bus stop off the main road here. I don’t have any right to ask for a favor after how I’ve treated you, but please… Please get Phoebe and take her back to your place. I’ll pick her up later tonight.”
My mother’s glare darts over to Willow, threatening retribution if she does what I say. “Fine. But you need to tell me everything later.” Faster than Helena or I could hope to catch up, Willow takes off toward Phoebe’s stop.
Helena and I are left alone, and she heaves a deep breath. “Still can’t just shut up for your own good, can you?”
“Nope. I’m incapable of shutting up, and damn proud of it.”
“Even back when you were younger. Every time your sister would make a mess of things, you’d run your mouth to distract me.” Wait… what? “Yeah, I knew your little game. I thought it’d be fun to see how long you could go covering for the little shit before you started to resent her. Somehow, it seems you still don’t.”
A spaded tail dances behind my mother as she strides dangerously close to me and I fight off the urge to back off. I sure as fuck can’t give her the satisfaction of seeing me afraid. “I know you’re not a sentimental person, and there’s not a maternal bone in your body, so I can only assume you need Phoebe for something. Whatever it is, she’s not interested. So I’m warning you now, get lost.”
I have to look up to meet my mother’s eyes as she stares back down at me. That familiar wicked smile has given way to something much worse. Her eyes are cold and detached, lacking their usual ferocity, and her mouth is pressed into a disturbingly still, fine line. “Or what?”
The last time I saw this look, Phoebe had dropped a bowl of grapes and it had broken against the kitchen tiles. Helena made her way toward my little sister, so I did what I could. I screamed something utterly offensive. These eyes. These awful, yellow eyes. I remember them growing larger as she approached.
In my mind, I can see Willow finding Phoebe at the stop, and my sister, blissfully unaware of what’s happening elsewhere, excitedly following the rabbit home. Somehow, after all this time, she’s never had to see how bad things really are. She knows we don’t have much, she’s not blind to the hunger she feels or the hand-me-down lifestyle she’s been stuck with. The one thing in this world I can pride myself on is that she doesn’t need to know what true cruelty is, and no matter what the woman about to strike me says, she’s not going to start now.
My feet shift back a bit as I stare deep into those sickly yellow things and chuckle. “I’ll stop you, that’s what.” A strange heady sensation hits me suddenly. “You… I’m sick of you ruining everything. Even when you’re gone, all you do is cause pain.” A flash of guilt tears through me. “No… I’ve caused pain, in your name and in your image. I hurt people I cared about, nearly ruined people’s lives. You broke me, twisted me into something that I hate… and your power over me ends now.” A wave of exhaustion nearly brings me to my knees, as I force my eyes to stay open so I can stare her down properly. The sight of my mother twists my stomach in knots, but I persist. “I might always be just like you… but now… I’m stronger than you!” As quickly as that exhaustion had set in, it dissipates, leaving me alone with Helena.
“We’ll see.”
***
???’s POV~
“Hail the Conquering Hero,” I say silently, but loud enough, as Haley stumbles into her aunt’s home. I can barely see her from my static vantage point, but I can hear her scream curses at the top of her lungs as she bludgeons a door repeatedly with her fist, splintering it, if the sound of snapping wood can be believed. “Throwing a tantrum isn’t going to help. Grow up.”
The soundtrack of unbridled rage from around the corner slows to a crawl until all that can be heard are sobs and whimpers unbecoming of someone that boasts of their strength… though I guess she won’t be doing that again for a really long time, will she?
After nearly an hour spent quieting herself, I hear her telltale heavy footsteps as she rounds the corner to stare at me. Being polite, I return her gaze and dutifully reflect the sorry state she’s in, bruises, cuts, and all.
“How are you going to face Phoebe like this? What will you tell Willow?” I ask, without moving my lips. “Maybe she’ll laugh at you, realize just how sorry you are beneath the facade of being powerful. She’ll see you for the weak, scared, shattered loser you are, won’t she? You can’t have that.”
The young woman shakes her head, trying to ignore my words as she rinses off her face and tries to treat the most obvious injuries.
“I don’t care how she sees me.”
“Lies.”
“Fine,” she admits. “But that doesn’t matter. I need to make sure Phoebe is okay. Nothing else matters.”
“Not even you?”
The question hangs in the air as she takes one last look at herself and walks away.