#jesus the amount of commas in this is a crime

[sapphoslibrary]

part 2 of isla’s backstory. read part 1 here!

Panic clouded Isla’s mind instantly. She sat frozen on her bed, staring at her parents’ limp forms on the floor in front of her. Every rational thought fled from her mind, hidden by a thick curtain of unrelenting panic. 

“Oh my… god,” she breathed to herself, her heart pounding in her chest. Her whole body trembled as she gasped for air. The room was closing in on her, the light blue walls decked in movie posters slowly suffocating her. 

Only one thought broke through the panic taking over her: I killed my parents. 

Isla cried out as the words reverberated in her mind in an endless loop, over and over, a single sentence flaying her alive. Oh my god. I killed my parents. Her world shattered beneath her hands-- her hands that held magic, the very thing that was ripping her apart. Her hands that killed.

Slowly, like she was stepping onto a carton of eggs, Isla stood from her bed. She didn’t know what to do, didn’t know what to think. She tiptoed toward her parents. They looked pale, but not… not hurt. 

Isla held her breath as she timidly grasped her mom’s wrist, checking for a pulse. She let out a breath as she felt a slow, steady beat against her fingers. After a moment, she dropped the hand like it had burned her. It felt cold. 

She sank to her knees beside her parents, sobs tearing through her into the eerie silence of the room. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I never wanted this. I’d change it all, in a heartbeat, if I could.” 

Isla gasped and sprang to her feet a moment later. She didn’t know when, or if, her parents would wake up. She couldn’t be around when they did. She had to go, now. 

There was no time to pack. Isla left her home with only the clothes she wore, an extra hair tie, a coat, and a pair of old sneakers. She ran out the front door, her eyes fixed on the ground as tears continued to fall steadily from them. 

Snow covered the ground, the thick January wind whipping Isla’s ponytail back and forth, obscuring her vision further. She stopped at the end of the driveway, glancing around desperately, trying to think of anywhere she could go. But she was a criminal, maybe a killer, and definitely a sinner. There was nowhere for her. 

Isla cried out into the wind and impulsively turned left. She walked down the sidewalk quickly, like she had somewhere to be, but didn’t run; running would only arouse suspicion. The freezing air broke through her thick coat, chilling her to the bone, making breathing a nearly impossible task. 

She walked until she couldn’t anymore. It had to have been hours since she left; hours of walking numbly down the winding sidewalks, dodging anyone she knew, putting as much distance between herself and her parents as she could. Finally, she stumbled upon an abandoned house on the other side of town. 

The damp wood stairs creaked as she climbed up to the front porch. Isla tried the door, and groaned in frustration when she noticed it was padlocked. She sank into a cushioned bench by the door instead, and finally, finally took a break.

She folded forward, collapsing in on herself with a sob. The mind numbing panic was beginning to subside, creating room for a freight train of debilitating horror at what she’d done. What she’d become.

For so long, she was the perfect daughter. Straight A’s. Mass every Sunday without fail. A good girl with a bright future full of college degrees and opportunities. It was all in the past, now, never to be seen again. 

Now, she was everything but that. She hurt, maybe killed, the people who raised her, who loved her like no one else could. The people who kicked her out like none of it had ever happened when they found out what she was. 

Isla cried harder as she went to war with her own mind. She tried to force the thoughts down, but it was impossible. She couldn’t think of anything else, and she couldn’t deny it any longer: she was a witch, the very thing her parents spent their whole lives hating with a burning passion. 

She thought maybe she’d be different. Maybe finding out their daughter, who they loved unconditionally, was a witch would change their minds. What a fucking naive thought. 

Isla jumped when she heard footsteps approaching, the small noise of boots sinking into the snow. She glanced up, instantly pulled out of her thoughts. Finally, she thought briefly.

A little girl, no older than five, stood alone and frightened at the bottom of the stairs. She wore only a pair of leggings and a sweater, her boots practically breaking at the seams. Her cheeks were flushed as she shivered, and Isla’s heart broke for her. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” Isla said gently. She wiped her tears and stood, stepping slowly down the creaky wood stairs. She stopped on the third from the bottom and sat, eye-level with the little girl. “What’s up? Are you lost?” 

The girl shook her head. “Not lost,” she said, her voice raspy. She sniffled. “Just going back to my mom.”

Isla nodded. “Okay,” she said. The girl was far too young to be out here all alone, and by the look of her ratty clothes, Isla guessed she didn’t have many other options. She felt a protective pull toward her. “Hey. Why don’t you take my coat?” She offered, already pulling it off. 

The girl looked shocked. “R-really?” She whispered, her teeth chattering. 

Isla smiled and nodded. “Really. You’ll catch a cold otherwise, and I don’t think either of us want that for you at all,” she said reassuringly.

The girl shivered and nodded. Isla wrapped her coat around the girl and held her shoulders for a moment, looking into her wide green eyes. “Keep that on, okay? It’ll keep you warm and safe,” Isla said softly. The girl smiled gratefully.

“Thanks,” she said, already walking away. 

Despite her exhaustion, Isla smiled ruefully to herself. Even if her entire world was falling apart, even if she was miles away from home with nowhere to go, she was grateful she could do something good out of it. Even if that was just giving up her only protection against the harsh cold. She figured she’d regret it later, but for now, she was content with her decision.

She didn’t have the energy to crawl back up the stairs, back to the cushioned bench she’d sat in before. Isla just curled up on the stair she sat on, wrapping her arms around herself as she shivered violently.

As snow began to fall all around her, Isla allowed herself to fall apart.