He smiled as he had then ‘Of course! I think you deserve it. Come on, sunshine, let’s go!’ His warm hand stayed on hers as he led her out the door and into the rest of the house. It was mostly wood, with some drab, peeling paint here and there, vases of mostly dead flowers, and intricately carved and painted celtic engravings to ‘brighten up the place’ as Veda had said at the time. Currently Veda was a little ways down the halls, pretending to be scrubbing a table. Helen felt the weight of Veda’s eyes on her and cringed inwardly, holding tighter to Alec’s hand, and screaming at herself to stay standing upright, fighting the urge to hide herself behind Alec’s strong, tired shoulders. He squeezed her hand back, straightening his back and squaring his shoulders, a signal for her to follow suit. (2.12.14)

      Alec spoke before Veda could ‘We’re going out.’ There was a certain ice in his eyes as Veda opened her mouth, no doubt to say something about studies. She closed her mouth again and nodded.

      Helen breathed a sigh of relief as they stepped outside, the sun hitting their eyes. She looked up at him, a stark silhouette against the bright sky. ‘Where too?’

(2.15.14)   ‘Hmm. Let’s see. I’ve got a job in Huston Texas, Paris France, and Tokyo Japan. What do you think?’

      Helen grinned. ‘Paris of course!’ she held tighter to Alec’s hand, biting her lips in excitement. She’d only done this a few times before, this was her favorite part.

(2.16.14)   The world seemed to stretch and blur around them, like a smudged oil painting or a picture taken out of a train window in the rain. The only thing that remained solid was Alec, holding tight to her hand, grinning at her enthusiasm beside her. As soon as the world fit itself back together she let go of Alec’s hand and spun around, trying to take in everything at once. They were on a street somewhere, flashing lights, wailing sirens, and panicked voices clogging the fresh spring air. She could not stop a grin from spreading over her face as she took it all in. New people, ones she’d never seen before, looked around with fear and sadness in their eyes, mouths shouting things in a language she spoke fluently, but was tuning out. The sun shone brightly down in blatant defiance of the sorrowful scene, dancing along the face of the man dead on the ground, gleefully shattering itself on the surface of the pool of blood spreading around him. Helen was inclined to agree with it. Though she felt a pang of sympathy for the man, she looked away and tried to enjoy her surroundings, it was not often she got out of her studio, let alone her world.

      Helen slumped. ‘Oh god.’

      ‘What?’ said Veda indignantly.

      ‘That’s your responsibility tone of voice. You’re gonna give me a bunch of stuff to do today and I’m not gonna do it and you’re gonna be disappointed and it’s gonna suck for everyone, why don’t you just ask one of the Sages to do your laundry.’

      Veda put down her mug of tea with just a little more force than was absolutely necessary. ‘You know how I feel about this. Responsibility is important. Having it and learning how to deal with it.’

      ‘But I’m a teenager! I don’t’ want to do your laundry, I want to make things before it’s too late, I don’t want to wake up someday and realize that all I’ve ever done is your laundry.’ Helen’s words were practiced, they had had this argument many times before.

      ‘There will always be responsibilities, if you get used to this now, while they’re little ones, you’ll learn how to manage your time better. In addition to my laundry, how are your studies coming.’

      Helen’s fork clattered into the dishes in the tray. She yanked at all the utensils in her hair, throwing them into a jumble on the floor beside her. Her hair cascaded down her back in isolated curls, trailing down to the floor. Almost instantly the claustrophobia set in, tightening its grip on her throat. With trembling fingers, she began to braid small sections of her hair. ‘That good eh?’

      ‘You know what? I’m trying not to have an anxiety attack could you just gimme a few fucking seconds please before you go back to badgering me.’ Her voice grew weaker as her breath shortened and her throat closed further. Her braids grew messier as her hands began to shake uncontrollably.

      ‘I’m just trying to help.’ Veda reached out a hand to hold her daughters, but Helen jerked back silently. She pointed at the door, her face twisting as she tried to hold back the tears.

Veda eventually took the hint, and also the tray, and left quietly, trying not to be too upset that this conversation had gone exactly like it did every week.

Alone in the center of the room now, Helen sat, surrounded by canvases, notebooks, sketchbooks, pens, pencils, paintbrushes of all shapes and sizes, discarded tubes of paint, stepped on tubes of paint, dry cracked palettes of paint, and the occasional dangerously loose floorboard. Helen sat in the center of the room, her head almost touching the ground as she crouched over. Trembling, crying.

When Veda came into the room a few hours later she found Helen in a loose ball on the floor. She had cried herself into an uneasy sleep, but not before painting herself into a protective circle. The circle was painted right onto the floor with acrylic paint, in what seemed to be every color imaginable. Runes lined the edges and waves of color washed outwards. Her hair was messily braided into a crown around her head, and her arms and feet were covered in paint. Veda approached quietly and saw that she had painted war paint on her face, some dots just under her cheekbones, and a line down her forehead. Never a good sign. Veda crept quietly out, knowing that waking her would only make matters worse. Instead she went out to get more paint, since that had probably been Helen’s entire supply.

      Helen creeped slowly into consciousness, her face pressed against the tiled floor. She eventually opened her eyes and rolled onto her back. Her arms spread out to the sides and she jerked back to the real world as she felt the circle of acrylic paint and remembered the whole thing again. (2/7/14) For a moment she lay back and simply gave up. Her body relaxed, as though it were trying to sink into the floor, just gaze up at the knotted wood ceiling forever. She couldn’t tell how long she had been there, looking at the ceiling and pretending that she didn’t exist, working on breathing the tightness out of her chest, but after what felt like a while there was a tentative knock on the door. She did not answer. Maybe if she stayed quiet and still, no one would come in. Maybe if she just didn’t move, the world would forget about her and she could go down to earth and live out her days as a starving artist. Maybe she could even convince Theo to let her grow old.

      Alec had other plans. Veda had called him, as she always did when she didn’t know what to do, and he had come immediately. His feet made soft sounds as he drew closer to her motionless body. For a second he worried, but then remembered that it was simply impossible for her to have died without him noticing. She rolled over and quietly said ‘Go away. Please.’

      ‘Well I was looking forward to seeing you but I guess I’ll come back later.’ He said, feigning offense.

      ‘DAD?!’ Helen stood up so quickly she got dizzy. H reached out one strong hand to steady her but before he could she threw her arms around his waist and buried herself in his chest. Her hair was bright against his grey shirt, and for a moment she worried that some of the paint on her was still wet, but all too soon she was lost in the smell of him. As he wrapped his arms around her he smelled of dryer lint and pencil lead. Just underneath this was the smell of something clean. Like hospitals and hand sanitizer. It was the most familiar scent in Helens world, besides Vedas.

      Alec was taken aback for a moment but smiled and wrapped his arms around her comparatively small frame, kissing the top of her head. They stayed like that for a while, Helen letting his presence soothe her and undo the damage caused by all the anxiety of the day so far. Alec was saving this memory, every detail. Any time he saw her could always be the last, who knew when Veda would snap and decide not to let him see her anymore.

      Helen didn’t notice when the door opened and Veda padded in on soft feet, skirt trailing behind her. ‘Ooh, I like it. Can I hang this one somewhere or are you just going to put it in that damn closet,’ she smiled as she leaned against a nearby wall, watching Helen stare intently.

      ‘Hmm?’ said Helen, not paying any attention.

      Sighing, Veda clapped loudly a few times. Helen started and dropped her paintbrush. ‘HEY! I was focusing! When did you get in here? Is it dinner already? Did I miss something important again?’

      Veda patted her on the head ‘Calm down I just came in to see if you wanted food, you’re always up hours before me, weirdo, and you forget to eat. So. Breakfast?’

      ‘I GOT IT!’ She grinned. ‘I just had to drop the paint brush!’ Helen was instantly distracted. She extracted a neat, thin dreadlock from her mess of hair and began using it as a paintbrush instead, adding layers of texture to the leaves of the tree and the darker swirls in the background.

      ‘Hellooo? Breakfast? No?’

      ‘Mhmm’ muttered Helen. ‘Just…afewminutes.’

      ‘aaand we’ve lost her.’ Veda’s shrug caused her wide-necked shirt to fall off her shoulder, revealing a delicate and elaborate curl of henna. ‘I’ll come back later with some food, maybe I can be interesting enough to keep you on earth for a little while and we can have a real conversation.’ She went to pat Helen on the head, but seemed to think better of it, and left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

When Veda returned an hour or so later, the painting Helen had been working on was on the ground nearby and Helen was busy covering a new, larger canvas in bright blue paint, using mainly her gloved hands. With a loud rattle, Veda set down the tray of breakfast (pancakes, toast, sausages and eggs). Helen stopped what she was doing, wiping the excess blue paint onto her overalls, also paint-stained, and with brushes and pencils and some less identifiable items sticking out of all the pockets. ‘Breakfast!’ She seemed surprised.

      ‘I told you I was making it.’ Veda sighed, smiling.

      Helen’s brow furrowed in confusion. ‘No you didn’t.’

      Veda shook her head and focused on picking apart her pancake with her hands and dipping it into a bowl of syrup. Helen struggled to remove her paint soaked gloves. When they finally came off she draped them carelessly over the top of her canvas. Her hands were pale, paler than the rest of her, there was an abrupt line at her wrists where her skin grew darker. She made a face, flexing her fingers. ‘This is weird.’

      ‘Put your gloves on and come eat, and please be careful, all these plants are new.’ Indeed there were plants covering every surface that was not covered in paintbrushes, canvases, and discarded tubes and palettes of paint. Some were hanging from the ceiling, creating mini privacy curtains. Helen rolled her eyes and reached for another pair of gloves, much cleaner, and grey. As she grabbed them she brushed one of the new plants, a magnificent aloe, and as her shoulders slumped the plant slowly shriveled.

      ‘Helen! That one was expensive!’

      She rolled her eyes again. ‘You know full well I can fix it just as easy. See?’ She brushed the tip of one of the stalks of aloe, and in a matter of seconds the plant looked even healthier than it had before. ‘See? All better.’

     Veda knew this was true and didn’t bother arguing, it was hardly what Alec needed at the moment. ‘Okay that’s nice, but why did you bring her here?’ She was ignoring the sinking feeling in her stomach that was telling her she already knew why.

     His hands began to fidget ‘I was wondering if you would take her. Cause I can’t…’ He swallowed thickly, hands shaking.

     Veda tried desperately to think of something to say. Of course she was going to take her, I mean look at the precious little thing. The girl had inherited her mother’s pale white skin, rather than her father’s deep olive, and had a shock of bright red hair. She was irresistibly adorable. But, on the other hand…baby? ‘O-of course. Um.’ Alec collapsed in a complicated tangle of limbs, his head resting on Veda’s lap. Her dark hair seemed to be one with his as she leaned forwards, his olive skin stark against his hands tangling in their curls, still shaking. ‘So,’ she whispered ‘what about Liv.’ His eyes closed and he sighed. ‘She can never. Ever know. Do whatever you have to. But she can never ever know, it’d kill her. That’d kill me. It would kill us, Birdie. Zombies.’ He covered his face with his hands and sighed in the way that people do when they are absolutely out of tears. When you have cried for so long that the world seems grey and you are exhausted to your very core. Baby Helen chose this moment to wake up and begin to cry. Veda leaned over and picked her up, rocking and shushing, with a little smile on her face. There was a confidence to it, covering up the fear. That confidence was mirrored in Alec’s eyes as he sat up and looked at her, the picture of a mother, black hair pouring over her shoulders, a tiny smile curling her lips as baby Helen fell asleep in her arms.

LET’S SKIP AHEAD A BIT. (1.25.14)

     She stood back and looked critically at her painting, lips pursed, head cocked, biting her lip. She stared at it intently for a while, not moving, paintbrush in hand. The vibrant paint knotted together to form a tree, standing out against its swirling grey background.

     Helen didn’t notice when the door opened and Veda padded in on soft feet, skirt trailing behind her. ‘Ooh, I like it. Can I hang this one somewhere or are you just going to put it in that damn closet,’ she smiled as she leaned against a nearby wall, watching Helen stare intently.

     ‘Hmm?’ said Helen, not paying any attention.

     Sighing, Veda clapped loudly a few times. Helen started and dropped her paintbrush. ‘HEY! I was focusing! When did you get in here? Is it dinner already? Did I miss something important again?’

     Veda patted her on the head ‘Calm down I just came in to see if you wanted food, you’re always up hours before me, weirdo, and you forget to eat. So. Breakfast?’

     ‘I GOT IT!’ She grinned. ‘I just had to drop the paint brush!’ Helen was instantly distracted. She rummaged through her butt-length, curly red hair, which was piled on top of her head. She extracted a neat, thin dreadlock, and began using it as a paintbrush instead, adding layers on texture to the leaves of the tree and the darker swirls in the background.

     ‘Hellooo? Breakfast? No?’

     ‘Mhmm’ muttered Helen. ‘Just…afewminutes.’