PART 1 – THREE OF SWORDS (cont.)
Adrian, who at this point in time was called Alice, was glued to the kitchen chair. Not literally glued, but figuratively, glued by obligation. Held down by the idea that if they got up, they would have failed. Which would have been the worst thing in the world. Janet placed a china plate on the table in front of Alice. Alice stared at it reproachfully, sure that the pretty pink roses were mocking them. All the roses had to do were be pretty, but Alice was obligated to stay here, and do what was required of them.
“Try it again,” ordered Janet, not unkindly. Alice stared at the plate until one plate turned into two. They were developing massive headache, and it seemed that their forehead as well would split into two. But as hard as they tried and hoped and desperately pushed with their mind, the plate would not move.
“Mom,” Alice pleaded. “I can’t do it. My head hurts.”
“Of course you can do it, sweetie,” Janet said, again, not unkindly. Alice started to cry.
“I can’t, mom, I can’t,” they said.
“Alice,” Janet said sharply. Alice flinched at the sound of their name. “You will do it. So keep trying.”
“No!” screamed Alice through sobs. At this, the plate shot through the air and shattered against the wall, just barely missing Janet’s head. A single shard fell away and sliced its way down the side of her face. Her eyes turned mean.
“Alice,” she said again, quietly, but this time, quite unkindly. Fear shot its way down Alice’s spine. They knew they were in trouble.
Nihilistic Porcupine 