Here's Chapter 2. By the way, I'm considering adding to it. Is that a good idea? Should I show you what I have for Chapter 3 first? Thanks!
2
Ally was no stranger to a fitful sleep. For years, she couldn’t go one week without terror-induced visions of her past. Often, Ally woke up in a puddle of cold sweat, and that night was no different. That night she had been plagued with the image of her cousins bleeding and bruised in her mother’s basement. Oh, how she hated that place. It had only caused her pain. Even so, she understood now that her mother wasn’t all bad, morally grey perhaps, but not the epitome of evil. Yes, Ally wasn’t able to forgive Samantha for everything she’s done, but maybe one day.
It was eight a.m. when she decided she couldn’t sleep any longer. So, she sat at the edge of her bed, braiding her long mane of black hair, wondering what was her new normal? Was it being a constant reminder of her mother to her family? Was it endlessly needing to keep her abilities in check? She didn’t know for sure. Ally only knew that her life was far from ordinary, and it was going to stay that way. She sat contently, braiding her hair for a few minutes until there was a knock on her door.
“Whatever the emergency, can it wait five minutes?” She asked the person on the opposite end of the door. “Tammi,” she finished, puzzled by her innate ability to identify who had knocked. Once she finished speaking, the door swung open, revealing one Tammi Denuna, fully dressed in a T-shirt and leggings, her hair in a ponytail. Her mouth was hanging open in surprise.
“Meet me in the Gym in ten minutes,” Tammi instructed, half mesmerized, barely shaking off her surprise, then walked back into the kitchen. Ally realized that it might take a while for her family to become accustomed to her new abilities. She may have trained with her mother on controlling her powers the whole day prior, but she had gotten nowhere close to having full control.
Ally picked out a mauve T-shirt and black knee-length leggings and began dressing up. After she finished, Ally walked into the kitchen and served herself a small stack of pancakes that Elena had made. Ally always enjoyed the taste of her Aunt’s homemade food because it was a gesture unfamiliar to her that did not go unappreciated. As Ally ate, she couldn’t help but notice the eerie silence in the room. Usually, Tommy would have been watching TV or playing video games, but he was nowhere in sight. He must still be asleep. Ally reassured herself.
The Gym was less of a gym and more of a sleek, modern, black box, the size of an average one-story house. The building had hardwood floors and black, metallic walls designed to contain and withstand powers. Ally had been in that building countless times, but given the events of the day before, she felt like that day was going to be different.
Tammi was waiting for Ally when she arrived in their private room, sitting patiently on a bench, her hands sagging between her legs.
“You’re late,” Tammi said disapprovingly, and, as she said it, Ally could see the eerie resemblance between her cousin and mother.
“You sound like Samantha,” Ally said bitterly, as she took a seat next to Tammi.
"I prefer not to. No one should ever compare me to her," Tammi said, resuming her usual state of calm. And Ally couldn’t help but agree.
“Why are we here?” Ally asked.
“I know you trained yesterday, but I would still like you to show me what you can do,” Tammi said gently.
“You already know what I am capable of,” Ally scoffed.
“You are not your mother,” Tammi said.
“I don’t want anyone to get hurt, all right?” Ally replied, timidly. Then Ally stood up, overwhelmed, turned toward the door, and ran out. She wanted to be alone, not to deal with the situation at hand. Meanwhile, a small part of her told her not to run. To tell Tammi how she felt. She knew that she had to train, but she feared that someone would get hurt in the process.
Upon nearing her house, Ally spotted Samantha standing in front of it. She faced Ally as if she had been waiting for Ally. Ally kept running toward the house, ignoring her mother’s presence, until Samantha stepped to Ally’s left and grabbed her arm.
“Let go of me!” Ally said, outraged, struggling to escape her mother’s grasp.
“You’ve never run from your problems. Why start today?” Samantha said coolly, as she let go of Ally and moved to look her in the eyes. They bore into her like a silent challenge. Any other day, Ally would have protested or left the conversation, but that day was not any other day. She was no longer ordinary.
“I’m not running away from anything,” Ally lied, holding her chin up in a stubborn challenge. It was a simple lie, and if she hadn’t been lying to her mother, she could have gotten away with it.
“Stop lying,” Samantha said, an amused smile on her face.
“Tammi wants to train me,” Ally confessed.
“And you don’t want anyone to get hurt,” Samantha said, finishing the sentiment. Ally nodded. “You still need to train,” Samantha said.
“I know that!” Ally said, throwing her hands up in exasperation.
“How about this? One week with me at my house. I can help you train. I hoped that after yesterday, we might want to get to know each other some more,” Samantha suggested. Initially, Ally hated the idea, but she had to admit the idea of getting to know her mother better, of possibly regaining a positive relationship with her, was appealing.
“What do you get out of it?” Ally asked warily.
“Who said my interests don’t align with yours,” Samantha said, smirking.
“How do I know that this isn’t some ploy to get me in there?” Ally asked, gesturing towards Samantha’s house.
“It’s not,” she said coolly. “Anyway, I know how much you value Elena’s opinion. Ask her.”
“Yeah, if she tells me not to go, I won’t,” Ally said, cheerily. She turned around and headed inside. Elena was in her bedroom, folding clothes when Ally found her.
“Hey, Elena, can I talk to you?” Ally asked solemnly.
“Sure. What’s up?” Elena asked, placing the T-shirt she was folding back on her bed.
“Samantha gave me a proposition; spend a week there, train, get to know each other. What do you say? Should I go?” Ally asked, her heart racing in anticipation.
“Honestly, part of me is uncomfortable with the idea. You’re not Samantha, but….” Elena confessed, her voice trailing off.
“You still believe that one week alone with her will turn me into her,” Ally said in outrage and disbelief. Ally couldn't help but be offended. In all the years that Ally knew her, Elena hadn't doubted that Ally intended to be a better person than Samantha.
“It’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s that I don’t trust Samantha,” Elena said in a small voice. Ally understood why Elena had said what she did. Thus, she stood there, at a loss for words. Neither of them spoke for a couple of minutes, and to Ally, it might as well have been an hour.
“Go,” Elena said decisively.
“What?” Ally asked, shocked.
“Go. Do what you always do and prove me wrong. I’d love to be wrong.”
“She let you come,” Samantha said. She stood in the door frame of her house, leaning on the wall as she said it. After years of living with Samantha, it still shocked Ally how much her mother knew about her and Elena.
“What makes you think that?” Ally asked.
“You wouldn’t be here otherwise. You care about what Elena thinks. You wouldn’t go behind her back like that,” Samantha said, and for the millionth time in her life, Ally felt like Samantha knew her better than she knew herself.
“You're not wrong, but not right either. She didn’t want me to come. Some part of her believed that this was a bad idea. She doesn’t trust you, and frankly, I don’t quite either, but I won’t let it go badly. I’m here because she wanted me to prove her wrong, and that’s what I’m going to do,” Ally said, determinedly, now standing in the entrance of Samantha’s house.
As Ally walked into the main room of the house, a tide of anguish, anger, and sorrow engulfed her until she was no longer staring at an empty dining area. She was suddenly three years old again: hopelessly wailing in protest as her mother dragged her friend, bruised and crying, out of the house. Ally would never forget that day. That was the day that left her in shambles. It had led to the whirlwind of the following decade.
There was a hand on her shoulder and a familiar voice saying, “Ally, what’s wrong?” It was her mother’s voice. At that moment, a million thoughts raced through Ally’s head, most of them bitter and full of hatred. The most prominent of which was that it had all been Samantha’s fault. An instant later, Samantha had removed her hand from Ally’s shoulder as if it had caught fire. Ally had been kneeling on the ground, her eyes wet with tears, and as she lifted her gaze to meet her mother’s, all she saw was a blank look staring back at her.
“I-” Samantha started, as Ally rose to face her mother.
“You’re not sorry,” Ally interrupted bitterly. A second later, Ally grimaced at the painful realization that her statement had little to do with what she already knew about her mother. Her abilities had led her to this conclusion.
“There’s no need to feel guilty. It doesn’t bother me,” Samantha said, stepping so close to Ally that she had to look up to meet her mother’s gaze. Then Samantha moved her hand to rest on Ally’s arm. When Ally tensed, Samantha moved back to her original position.
“But it bothers me,” Ally whispered.