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(Year 1) 3 (Interlude)

  Annette Hebert considered herself one unlucky woman.

  When had it happened? When had her smooth-sailing life turned around and rained misfortunes on her head?

  It was, probably, when she and Danny decided to move to Britain, to Annette’s grandparents’ empty house. Annette was invited to the position of professor at a well-known university, and Danny had been very quick to find himself a job as the spokesperson of a local Union.

  But Annette understood now, that she had regretted moving to Britain. The second she had set foot on ground, she had gotten chills. There was something off, something growing in the air.

  And yet, she had ignored her sixth sense and moved on with her life. She had gotten busy, and learnt to ignore that little voice in her head telling her to go back.

  Yes... Now that she was thinking about it, she had been very uneasy when she first came here. She had gotten used to it, but the feeling hadn’t disappeared until...

  Not even until when the doctor broke the news to the two of them that their child was going to be disabled, because of nothing at all but the unluck of genetics and they were forced spent days worrying and stressing about Taylor’s future...

  No, the feeling had gone away sometime after Taylor’s birth (a “very healthy baby, despite everything. What a fighter,” according to the doctors...) and Danny’s death...

  Danny had been enthusiastic about this plumbing job. Despite not being a worker, he had wanted to be in the work with his men. Annette remembered vividly how he had kissed her goodbye and squeezed Taylor’s cheek.

  Then the news had came. A gas leak, they had said. An explosion. His body was so scarred that they hadn’t allowed her to look at his body.

  And Annette was left all alone. She had no family except for Taylor. No friends.

  At least the pay was good. She didn’t have to worry about the rent or anything.

  But the uneasy feeling that disappeared... She could remember it now, sitting with a beer at her hand, after not having any time to think for so long...

  Taylor had been... A remarkable child. Far too mature for her age, but not in the way kids pretend to be. Annette often felt she was interacting with a peer instead of her child when talking to Taylor. She was so understanding, helpful, thoughtful... Annette didn’t know where that had came from.

  There were problems too, but nothing too overt. Stuff like Taylor not having many friends, not listening to her classes. Her teachers always seemed like they wanted to say more, but they wouldn’t.

  This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Annette wouldn’t push, either.

  But all of this meant that Taylor was much easier to look after than expected. Annette had worried to death, but with Taylor she wasn’t having a hard time at all.

  There were other things though... Unrelated to her disability and the father she never knew. She could now see what they were and why they had happened.

  One time Annette had been drinking, out of stress. A usual occurance after Danny’s death. There wasn’t anything unusual. And Taylor had marched straight from her room to the living room where Annette had been, eyes wet and nose red, and all but attacked the can of beer at Annette’s hand, crying, “Don’t drink that moom that tastes baadd!!! Mom it tastes horrible I don’t want you to drink thaaaat!”

  Annette, dumbfounded, had allowed the can to be torn out of her hand and had watched Taylor go and throw it to the thrash bin.

  “Okay, dear, okay,” she had soothed. “I won’t drink anymore...”

  “N-never ever?”

  “Not ever.”

  Taylor had stopped crying after that, but Annette couldn’t help but ask;

  “How do you know what beer tastes like?”

  Taylor had shot her a dumbfounded look. “When you were drinking it.”

  Annette had thought in her drunken state, she had let her toddler try alcohol. The guilt had been overwhelming.

  Another time, when she and Taylor had been watching television. It was a movie about some boxer and the man on the screen had dropped down and started doing push-ups.

  “Wooah, I want to do that!” Taylor had said, with a smile.

  It was... grim, watching your child get pumped about things they wouldn’t, couldn’t, do. Annette had almost changed the channel at that, but Taylor had gotten up with a, “Let’s see if I can!” dropped to the ground, and start doing push-ups with one hand.

  Now, Annette had never been the physical type, but she had tried push-ups here and there. She had also watched people try -and fail- them. For a untrained human, even a single normal push-up. And there Taylor had laid, having done five one-armed ones.

  Children weighed less, that must have been it. The lighter you were, the easier push-ups became.

  These two weren’t the strangest things Annette had noticed Taylor do. There was also the weird pain tolerance, which had been another point of worry for Annette, though Taylor was very responsible at keeping herself safe, sound and healthy.

  The most damning event she could remember was this:

  They had been at a mall. A big one. Taylor had always hated standing on the escalators, so they were walking.

  On an escalator, you stand on the right side if you want to. You leave the left open for the people who are in a hurry. Unfortunately not everyone had the memo.

  “Excuse me,” Annette had said. The man had taken one look at her, then decided to ignore her.

  Annette had been about to call out to him, when Taylor had stopped her by squeezing her hand very tightly.

  “What’s wrong Taylor?” she had asked.

  Taylor had only shook her head.

  Annette had noticed the man had moved, walking up the escalator, though they had reached the top anyways.

  It was only then Annette could realize what was up, when she had stepped onto the floor and looked around.

  All over the floor, people were walking in lines. Like a bunch of soldiers in the army, with no regards to personal space or preferred walking speed. When arrived at the straight-line-distance of the stores Annette had assumed they were planning to go, they would turn ninety degrees and walk straight towards the store. From what Annette could tell, they went back to normal, walking like a normal person, when they entered the stores.

  “Beautiful.”

  That hadn’t been Annette.

  That had been Taylor.

  These little unexplainable happenings had always been at the corner of Annette’s mind. Except, they weren’t unexplainable now. The explanation was that Taylor was a witch, and she had been doing magic.

  For the first time in years, Annette took a huge sip from her beer.

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