Glimpses 67

Julie Gottman closed her eyes and counted, “Ten, nine, eight, seven…” Using her professional therapist skills on herself wasn’t a normal part of her practice, because until recently nothing had bothered her. [Calm Minds], [Ease Burdens], [Conquer Fear], and [Trust] lowered her heart rate to a manageable level of racing; for now, the heavy thump didn’t feel like her chest would explode and instead only hurt. “Three, two, one.”  The problem was that without access to those skills while she was sleeping, they didn’t stop the nightmares.

Why did she have to get paired up with Miss White?  Other than the fact that she volunteered. The cupid potion had a strong effect on the bodies; Flint talked about how many people bought it illegally and cut it as an aphrodisiac.  The idea that she could be paired up with a woman rather than an overly aroused boy had her jump at the idea of practicing on the pretty girl.

For safety, White was silenced. After the potion coated her throat, Julie even picked a mild command. “Tell me you love me.”

The cold snarl as Harmony moved through the classroom's metal table, ripping it apart at a speed that Julie knew she was lucky that was the choice rather than having the revialist throw it at her. That fractional delay caused by the obstacle allowed Flint to intervene in time to save her life by restraining the eraser.

How would a berserker evolve into a healer? It was the only thing that made sense, but even then the therapist skills she’d used on the restrained snarling woman just seemed to make the situation worse. You’d think a therapist would be a counter to someone fueled by rage and anger. If only Harmony White were someone that her purifier skills would work on.

That was one reason she’d taken this class, because she needed to find something other than rotten food to use [Purify Dead] on. Never mind her other skills that might affect those fascinated with forbidden magic.

Even when she thought she was safe,  Harmony tumbled out of the shadows, bloody sickle in hand, as she stood over a naked girl; confusion only hit when she realized the nude girl was Harmony.

Wobbling upright, flashing her perfect skin, eyes still hot with fury, the clothes-less copy of student White turned to her, smiling to reveal teeth stained with blood, her chest heaving from a puncture that had gone into her lungs.

Julie froze in fear again, as that stripped and exposed girl wiggled her fingers in a little wave while she puckered her lips to mouth a kiss, acting with the wicked confidence of a fully armed and armored knight who faced a gentle breeze, only to fade away.

Afterwards, the apologies and explanations from Flint and Miss White, even if they had the acknowledgement, responsibility, empathy, and commitment, didn’t stick with her once she fell asleep. What could repair that experience? Nothing, not when every night she dreamed of that little naked wave, heaving, bleeding chest, and red-stained, death-blown kiss.  

Julie Gottman, you're tougher than this. [Trust], [Trust], [Trust]. With that last use of her skill, exhausting it, the therapist stepped into Defense Against the Forbidden Arts once more.