Nova Suffers

Nova's eyes flew open, wildly looking around the room where she slept. Reality settled in slowly, her heart still racing as she realized that yes, it was just a dream. They were safe. They were all safe. There was no battlefield, no hostile gems. Nothing but the dawn breaking through the windows, and the distant sounds of birds chirping.

With her entire body shaking, Nova hauled herself out of bed, and when she shifted her weight to her legs, she nearly fell straight to the floor. Mentally berating herself for being so shaken up by a nightmare, she dragged herself outside of the room. No one home. Jamie and Othello being gone at this hour wasn't odd--after all, Jamie had work and Othello had school. But this time, both Ophelia and Sprite were gone as well. Memory of the nightmare made her tremble even harder, remembering the sight of gems shattering, bodies being mangled until they hardly resembled anything human, blood pouring and pouring out into the ground--

She dashed to the phone, nearly losing her fragile balance in the process. Nova stared at the screen for an unneeded amount of time, mind almost too fuzzy and scattered to think of the words to send to Ophelia and the letters that made them up. Her head pulsed with pain that seemed to increase with every throb, as if she was being hit repeatedly with some sort of blunt instrument, and it seemed difficult to breathe, with her nose unable to inhale any air and her mouth drier than it had ever been. As her shaking fingers frantically jumped for the letters on the screen, she managed a "Where are you?" ridden with typos, but still recognizable.

Nova put down the phone, and glanced into the hall. Even the movement sent her head spiraling into dizziness, but as her vision finally adjusted again, she could swear there was someone in the hall. A dark shadow, a silhouette of a person---or a gem---that looked over its shoulder at her and proceeded to walk back down the hall as if seeing her there wasn't any sort of deterrent. Every part of Nova screamed that this was an intruder, and with something she didn't want to admit was fear running through her veins, she followed.

Each step she took sent a new wave of nausea up through her stomach and straight to her throat, making the struggle to breathe even more difficult. Furious with herself for being slowed down, she deliriously increased her pace to a run to catch up with the intruder. They stopped at the end of the hall, and as Nova rocketed towards them, gem glowing as she got ready to draw her sword at any second---she crashed into the wall. Falling to the floor, she realized there was no one there. The pain from her crash and the shock to her body only did her migraine worse, and she simply stared at the floor.

She was sick. Somehow, Nova had gotten sick. It was as if the realization somehow made everything even worse, as she lost her balance yet again and nearly fell forward onto the ground. Yet, at the same time, knowing that made her force herself to get up. She had training today, and an illness couldn't stop her. She wasn't weak enough for that. Hauling herself to her feet with an extreme amount of difficulty, Nova made her way back into the living room, feeling like someone was repeatedly bludgeoning her head and stomach with a mace.

She held onto the doorframe as she stepped into the living room, staring at the ground. Nova quickly remembered that she shouldn't be acting like some sort of bedridden, sickly child. She was going to get over this. There was no laying down. She couldn't take a break. "Nova." She jumped a bit when she heard her name, and Nova looked up slowly, freezing in place when she saw who exactly was standing in front of the door.

Nova had seen her mother in holograms, in paintings, but this was entirely new. She was beautiful and terrible, standing much taller than even herself, with splotches of white on her black skin with a pattern that none of the paintings seemed to get exactly right. But the split-second of admiration passed and suddenly she was much more terrible than she was beautiful, much more frightening than she was awe-inspiring. And Nova remembered who she was. And Nova was angry.

She lunged for her mother with fists that she didn't want to acknowledge were much too weak to fight, head clearer and yet fuzzier than it had ever seemed to be as she locked eyes on her mother. With a cold, emotionless stare that made Nova want to scream, Snowflake simply grabbed her wrists in her hands to stop her blows from reaching her. Nova heaved, feeling like her lungs were full of tar, but not full enough to keep her from spitting curses into her mother's face. Snowflake's face contorted into something even more awful than before, a grimace with teeth too big, too sharp, too inhuman. "You're too weak to do anything. You're useless."

As Nova trembled, wrists still in her mother's tight grip, the grip tightened and tightened until nails that were too long, too monstrous, pierced the skin and Nova cried out as they went digging for her veins, she could feel them ripping the insides of her wrists apart, trying to find the vital veins that would mean her death in seconds if cut. Nova screamed and Snowflake laughed, her face contorting into something else straight out of a nightmare every minute as her daughter tried to wrestle her hands away, screaming bloody murder.

The grip finally broke and Nova was free, but she couldn't run. She managed a few staggering steps, heaving and heaving and heaving until acid finally burst through her mouth and nose, burning all the way up and out, spewing out onto the floor with a horrifying noise. When it ended and Nova was left gasping for air, she looked down into the mess she had made and saw black and white gem shards peppering the sea of red below her. "Nova! Nova!!" The voice sent fear running through Nova's entire body, but even in her daze, she knew that voice wasn't her mother's. Turning around, she was met with Ophelia's concerned face.

Nova was suddenly more ashamed than ever for being seen like this, entire body trembling with weakness and tears streaming down her cheeks. She was weak. She was useless. She was alive because she needed to be strong, and she couldn't even achieve that goal. "Ophelia..." She spoke in a ragged voice, and even that word sent her into a flurry of coughs. "We need to get you in bed! What were you doing awake?!"

"Don't...'s just a fever...I...'m not...weak..." She deliriously forced out her words. The proceeding coughs nearly had her doubled over, as even more vomit threatened to pour out of her throat. Lacking the energy to protest, she simply let Ophelia lead her back to her bedroom and lay her down. She lie still on the bed, staring out of the window. "Everyone gets sick, you dolt! It doesn't mean you're weak! You just think that because of your stupid mom!" Nova wouldn't reply even if she could, turning her head to give Ophelia a blank stare.

"Nova. You're amazing. You're way stronger than you even realize, but even if you weren't, that wouldn't change anything! You're Nova, not some kind of emotionless brute! We don't have to be what they want us to be! We're your family now. You don't need to care about what she thought, or what she wanted." Somehow, even with Ophelia's words being nothing but that, words, it calmed her restless nerves just enough. Suddenly feeling more tired than she had ever been, Nova closed her eyes. It was going to be a long week.