Run for Your Life

“Listen to me, Reyna.” Her face is tight and her voice is a hiss. Her hands press firm on my shoulders and she leans in close. “We’re not safe here. You have to go.”

“But mom-”

“Listen!” Her fingers dig into my skin. A few of her thin nails bend as she presses down. Her touch is unusually painful. It’s never hurt me until now. “There are people coming. I don’t know who they are, but they’re coming here. Reyna, I need you to leave this house and run east.” I can smell dinner on her breath. She made flautas tonight. She made them because I asked.

“What are you doing?”

Mom races back and forth across my bedroom. She pulls open drawers and removes my clothes, stuffing them into the black duffel bag she gave me for my sixteenth birthday. If you ever want to travel, she said. I laughed at her. Where would I go? Who would I see? We are all we have. 

“You have to leave.” She doesn’t look at me. She just keeps stuffing my belongings into the bag.

“I have to go by myself?” I’m not even seventeen yet. “I can’t go by myself,” I tell her.

“You have to. Reyna, I’m not asking. This is an order.”

“Since when do you give orders?” My surprise is clear. My mom, who has never demanded a thing of me, suddenly giving orders. “Why are you doing this? What is happening?!” I’m so confused, I’m screaming. I’ve never yelled at mom before. I’ve never had to.

“Reyna.” She stops packing and looks at me. There’s apology in her eyes, and a sorrow I’ve never seen her wear passes across her face. “I’ve told you all about my Gift. You know what we are.”

“I know what you are.”

“What we are,” she insists.

“You don’t have to lie to me anymore. I’m not a child. I’m an inactive Witch and I’m fine with it, but you have to tell me the truth. What is happening to us?”

“There are people in this world who need this Gift. They need it to do terrible things. So I need you to run, do you understand?”

“But they’re after you! Why am I running if they’re after you? Why aren’t you coming with me?”

“I can’t Reyna. That’s not how this goes,” she speaks softly. 

“Then I’ll stay with you. We can fight these people together.” There has to be a solution. There’s got to be a way to make this right. If we’re not going to run, we need a plan. 

“You cannot fight them.”

“So you’re going to do this all alone?” This isn’t happening. This isn’t real. It can’t be. “No!” I yell. Whatever this is, I’m not going to make it easy. This is my home, she is my mother, and I am not a coward. I may not be powerful, but I’m not afraid.

Mom drops the duffel bag and bounds across the room. She doesn’t say anything before slapping me across the face. My cheek stings. My eyes fill with tears. I’m in shock because she’s never hit me before. She’s never had to.

“Listen and listen well. This isn’t like our lessons. There’s no time for you to be stubborn. This is a matter of life and death. If you stay, you’ll die. If you run, you’ll live. I need you to live, Reyna.”

“But I need you to live too,” I sob. I know she’s serious. She wants me to be okay, but I need her to be okay too. She’s my mom. Who else do I have? No one. We are all we have. That’s what she always said. That’s the way it’s always been. 

“I know. I promise you, I will do everything in my power to find you again.” She hugs me so tight that I can feel the beat of my heart against her chest. She picks up the bag and slings it over my shoulders. “We have to hurry.”

We race down the stairs. I can’t see a thing. There are so many tears dripping from my eyes that the house looks flooded. I nearly trip over the rug at the bottom of the steps but mom’s steady grip puts me upright. 

There’s a huge knot in my throat. I still don’t understand what’s happening. My whole body is shaking. I don’t know who these people are or what they want from us. We haven’t done anything wrong. I don’t know how it got like this. Twenty minutes ago we were sitting down to dinner. Now I’ve got to run for my life.

Mom leads us to her bedroom. “Where did I put it?” She asks herself, frantically searching her dresser drawers. “Here!” She brushes the cover with her hands a few times and a faint, wistful smile tugs at the corners of her lips.  

In her hands is a book. I know that book. Brown leather binding and thick, yellowing parchment. That’s the book she pulls out when she needs to reference something. That’s the book she pulls out when she wants to have a little fun. That’s the book she told me I can’t touch under any circumstance. 

“Everything I’ve learned, I’ve written here. You know this book. Do not lose this book. This book is me, do you understand?”

“Yes,” I lie. I don’t understand at all. 

“As long as you have this, I will be with you,” she tells me, stuffing the book into my bag. “Do you understand?”

“Yes.” I lie again. 

“Reyna, look at me.” Her hands touch down on my shoulders again, this time, gently. Her warm palms are soothing against my shaking body and, for just a moment, I forget that we’re in danger. “You’re going to be on your own. I’m not sure how long, but you have to be strong. Do you hear me?”

“Can’t you just tell me what’s happening?” I can barely get the words out. Snot drips from my nose. My mother smiles sweetly as she wipes her sleeve along my lip. 

“No. I’ve interfered enough.” 

“What does that even mean?” 

“I’ve bargained enough, Reyna. There is nothing else I can trade. The journey is yours now, just as it was meant to be.”

“What are you talking about?” She’s speaking in riddles. The most frustrating part of this is getting the answers but having none of the information. “You have to come with me. Please, mom?” I beg her. I know what her answer will be, but I beg her anyway.

“No,” she says calmly. “If I go, they will find us both, but they can’t read you like they can read me. They won’t find you if you’re alone.” She holds my face between her hands. Her fingers trace my hairline and she sets right a rogue strand of hair. “There’s one thing I need you to do. You need to promise me. If you’re ever in trouble, call for help. Do you hear me? As loud as you can scream, you scream for help.”

“I promise.” It’s barely a whisper, but mom hears me swear to it.

When she can no longer hold it in, mom lets a heavy sob. She’s crying just as much as I am now. Her jaw tightens before she takes a deep breath. It’s hard. It’s hard for her like it’s hard for me. I can see the concern etched across her face, and the lines run so deep that I realize I can’t fight her. Whatever the reason, whatever the trouble, I have to do what she says. I have to trust her now, the way I’ve trusted her countless times before. Something beyond my imagining terrifies her, my strong, brave mother. If I have to run, I’ll run. 

“Okay,” I resolve. “I’ll run, and I’ll run fast. But you have to promise that you’ll try to find me. When this is all over, you have to find me, mom.”

“Reyna, I will always be with you.” She gives me a long hug. Everything we’ll never get to say to each other is in this hug, along with all the hugs we won’t get in the future. She takes my face into her hands once more. “You are my last spear in this world,” she sniffles. I don’t know what it means, but I’ll remember it forever.

She leads us to the living room and opens the front door. It’s a door we rarely use so it feels wrong leaving this way. The front steps seem foreign. I’ve never noticed until now, but the hydrangeas out front are beautiful at dusk. The soft light makes the flowering shrub look more peaceful, more still. 

“We are all we have,” mom tells me. I’ve heard the mantra a million times before.

“We are all we have,” I echo. 

“Reyna. Mija.” A cry escapes her but she straightens her posture, readying herself to say goodbye. “Te dejo en la naturaleza. Te libero.”

“No!” 

A strange feeling comes over me. It starts are the top of my head and works its way down to the balls of my feet. I shiver as the feeling takes over my entire body. Pins and needles poke at my joints. My muscles contract and stiffen. It feels like my blood has been replaced with ice water. I stand here, physically untouched, experiencing the internal torture of Release.

The pain isn’t the worst part, though. What hurts the most is the separating. I can feel us being pulled in different directions, like a frayed rope being split apart. The togetherness I’ve securely felt all my life is diminishing. I know who she is and what she is to me, but our bond is splitting and creating distance. My heart throbs as it sinks, and I suddenly feel lonelier than ever. 

This is it. Release. It’s what the Witches sing songs about. Sad songs. Songs that make you weep for a past you didn’t belong to. They don’t sing for their bodies, they sing for their souls. Mom told me all about Release, but I never thought I’d experience it firsthand. We are all we have. The saying rings in my head again. 

“Go! Now!” She yells and waves her hand, sending a fierce wind in my direction and knocking me off the bottom step. I’ll never feel the magic of her breeze again. “I love you, Reyna.”

I take one good look at my mother, drinking in the details of her. I want to remember her long, black hair and the way she used to let me braid it. Her dark brown eye that reminds me of a black hole, and her ghost eye that reminds me of a dandelion. Her long, nimble fingers that rubbed my head when I was falling asleep, and her strong legs that bounced me as a child. My mom, who I’ll never see again.

“I love you, mom.”

We stare at each other a moment longer before she goes inside the house and shuts the door. The night is quiet. The sun is gone. There’s not a single person I can run to. I don’t even know where I’m going, but I promised I would go. I look up at the dark, eastern sky, and run.