Princess of Faerl
Good Morning, or Not

Start “Good morning starlight,

The sun is shining bright,

Let the rays hold you tight,

Until you can embrace moonlight.”

I woke up to the sound of my mother's singing. It made me feel as if she were really here.

“Echo, turn off the alarm.” My voice is groggy, still half asleep. The device clearly didn’t hear me. “ECHO, turn off the alarm.” I managed to get out. I heard a growl that I couldn’t tell if it came from my stomach or outside the door. The step-witch banged on my door.

“I thought I told you to change that blasted alarm tone.” Lyssandra, my stepmother hissed. Normally, I refer to her as my step-witch. I never knew why my mother's voice bothered her so much.

“I thought I told you you'd never erase my mom.” I snapped back. I always had this feeling that she wanted to pretend my mom never existed. It annoyed me. Whenever I got passionate though, she’d back down and almost whimper. “You’re married to my dad. You’re the step-witch that wants me to pretend you gave birth to me. You will never be able to replace her. I’m not like you. Stop trying to make me your perfect little girl and leave me be. I wasn’t interested when I was five, ten, thirteen, or even now. So do me a favor and go fly a kite.” I rebutted. I almost felt angry. Her expression changed as she looked through the cracked open door at me. Unbenounced to me, my normally sky-blue eyes had turned violet.

“How could you say that? I’ve been here since you were born. She didn’t raise you, I did. I raised you with your dad. Why do you make me fight so hard? I’ve only ever tried to be a good mother to you and you shun me constantly. It’s so hurtful.” Her voice turned pitiful but didn’t sound sincere to me.

“I have no idea who’s done what. My illness is caused by trauma and includes amnesia. You’re manipulative as all get out and I can’t trust you. Serenity doesn’t either, so save it. I’ll be graduating next week. I’m 18 tomorrow. I’ll be out of your hair and you can stop pretending with me. I can see right through you.” I stated dryly. She wasn’t fooling me.

I heard her huff and stomp downstairs. It almost sounded like she was sniffling, trying not to cry. I don’t think I’ll ever understand her. She sulks about the fact that I won’t let her replace my mom and tries so hard. Sometimes it feels like she annoys her hellspawn because she’s trying so hard to convince me she’s a good mom and loves me. It kinda makes me sick sometimes.

I’m nothing special. Not to me anyway. Most people avoid me. I’m not popular, but I’m not the most bullied. I just am. The green of the school is littered with people of varying ages. The high school is on our local community college campus, so we can take college classes while taking our regular studies. So there were people from 13 to beyond middle-aged around. This also meant my school dress code was a bit laxer. We could color our hair whatever color we wanted. I dye my hair often.

My make-up, when I bother to do it, is considered colorful gothic. The blue of my eyes, I’ve been told, makes the smokey style pop. Today I have a black base on the crease of my lid with what looks like a thick winged eyeliner. A baby blue sparkly shadow on my eyelids and over the creamy black shadow to create a cool look. My lips are outlined in black with a liquid matte plum lipstick. My skin is a tan that most beach barbies would kill for. My hair is shoulder-length. It’s not curly but not straight either. I have to straighten it most days or it’s a frizzy mess. The roots at the crown of my head are pink while the rest is blue and purple. For now, anyway. My shirt is a baby blue crop top with black skulls on it and a white spaghetti strap tank underneath it. I have a short pleated black skirt with chains and black-footed leggings finished off with four-inch high-heeled boots that have zippers up the sides and faux buckles that end just below my knees. I’m only 5’4” so I need a height boost. I’m not into showing off the goods, but I am into looking my best.

Blackbriar blaring in my headphones, I walked through campus to the building. I don’t sing along. I get funny stares when I sing and I don’t like the attention. The last time I did I found it wildly uncomfortable. People stared at me and seemed hypnotized. Across the way, a boy yelled out my name but I couldn’t hear him. Apparently, he really wants to talk to me. He runs to move in front of me so I see him and he doesn’t startle me. The first time someone startled me was the last. I let out a scream and, coincidentally, at the same time, some glass broke, and more than a few people had headaches for days.

“Hey Silk. It is Silk today, yea?” He asks. I nod.

“Hey Manic.” I responded, “Yea it’s me. Serenity is awake but it’s me. What’s up?” I’m trying really hard to be nice. The step-witch put me in a really bad mood. I shifted uncomfortably. He seemed to notice and started walking with me.

“Oh good, it is you. I was afraid I misnamed you again today.” He states. He always tries to be considerate of me. He’s protected me a couple of times when an alter came out that even I didn't know existed. He wouldn’t tell me details either. He said when they are ready they’ll tell me, but they all want to protect me. “Our statistics final is today. Was wondering if you were good to go or needed to get an extra cram session in before classes. We could always nix the homeroom to cram, too.” He’s always trying to make sure I’m good.

I smile, this time genuinely, “I’m okay. Serenity says she’s got statistics covered.” Serenity actually likes math. I don’t understand how anyone can like it. My inner monologue is starting to get loud. I pull a red post-it note from my purse and handed it to Manic. He understands immediately, getting me to a spot on the grass to sit down and he squeezes my shoulder. I vaguely heard him say something about letting the homeroom teacher know I was disassociating.

I close my eyes as it makes it easier for me to concentrate. I have no idea if the eyes on my body are closed or not but I’ve never recorded myself to replace out. I move into the zone, a mental space where I can communicate with and see most of my alters, or at least a shadow of them. My therapist says I have Dissociative Identity Disorder but I feel like this is something different. I don’t know how to explain it. In this zone I see some fully formed individuals and some who are shaped like shadows and so, and others that look like mist. One looks like me but is super tall, like 6’ tall. Her hair also seems to be a dark nebula made of millions of stars. Actually, as I look closer, all of them are dark nebulae with stars and streaks of color. I don’t understand it, but oh well.

A shadow speaks, “We turn 18 tomorrow. Life won’t be the same.” Another shadow pipes up, “All these teenage worries will be the least of our issues.” The one named Serenity, the only one I can see fully formed, now speaks up. “We’ll get to that after we get through today. These may be teenage worries, but our human needs us to let her do what she needs for now.” I look at her funny. She’s never called me her human before as if she were something I’m not. “Yes, our human. You’ll know soon enough. Now we need to get you back to the mundane before you miss it all.” She looks at me and I snap out of it. I’m left in a daze. I have more questions.

‘So she’s gonna explain everything tomorrow? I wonder if I will be able to see more than just shadows of others as well.’ I thought to myself. Serenity tells me “yes” and then urges me to hurry to class. She always waited till I sat down to take over. She says there are things about us that look different and others can’t see our eyes when she takes over. I realized I only had 10 minutes to get across campus. Fuck.