Michael helped Jazzy move around her apartment. She had lived here since the death of her parents. It had been hard at first, being mostly alone, and so young; a fourteen-year-old girl by herself with a largely absentee guardian sometimes had it rough, but Jazzy got along fine, somehow she always did. Unfortunately, for all that she was in familiar territory she was having trouble remembering where everything was and what the layout of the room was.
“You’re trying too hard,” Michael pointed out when she nearly tripped over a footstool, “your body knows where everything is, just trust it.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jessica mumbled sourly, “you keep saying that. I never really had any eye-hand coordination, now it seems like I don’t have any coordination whatsoever.”
“It’ll come back, honey girl,” he said, trying to reassure her, “just give it time.”
“Hey, do you think that I can get out of phys. ed. now?”
“I hadn’t thought of it.”
“I guess I’ll have to try to explain it to them, somehow. Being a liberated teen is kinda hard,” she said and her blind eyes went wide with sudden shock.
“What? Jazz?”
“I can’t read anymore…” she whispered, blinding reaching her hand for his.
Michael took it and squeezed it gently.
“Guess you’re going to have to learn how read Braille?”
“I guess,” she murmured despondently, “if I’d known that it would’ve – ”
She had gone still, Seeing; a living room, a cat asleep on a brown sofa, a child playing on the floor. The child was surrounded by a strange green-blue light. The view changed, and Jessica started. The woman was tall, taller than any woman she had ever seen before, surrounded by darkness that was steeped in blood. So much power there.
“The Witch Queen,” she whispered, knowing instantly.
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