Lost, between interesting buildings poking around the tower Eiffel's skyline, finding a way out from the Circus Arcanus, if I was told to be a freak, found out I still don't fit in here. In the underground streets of Paris going down busy bellow too among people around in all sort of different styles from glamorous to ragged, seeing parallel to me the boats in the river with people who came from work sightseeing trips along the Seine, were no one sees me. The stone column at the middle of the park topped with a golden statue.
And there she was Propertina Goldfield for me she was like a social worker, sceptical watching over my childhood, it was maybe the day I saw were she wiped everyones mind in the streets of New York City that I will never forget, because she stoped my step mother from harassing me in public and every day. Hidden under the anti magic movement, shrouded in tragedy walking through the fog and rain, summer hit with my paper flyer friends in that secondary contact to strangers. And there she is, always watching me. Now, I'm an adult finding her.
This city has survived invasions, attacks, plagues and fires, innovations and great artistry too. Burst into motion on the spur of the shared impulse, stare in dismay unready, clothed by a certain poverty of fresh air, juvenile clogging my movements until I was paralysed. I might have learn to channel my Obscurus, It resides in me, still work to pay the bills on my own were this dark cloud grows, it kills me inside, it feeds from me, stood up everyday asking to find my real mother, "One more day Credence, one more." Choking my breath to never see the day light again and raise, as articulated she was, she knew I was an adopted child, why did she near me, why couldn't she test me and free me, the outrage was a vivid insight caught in a fortress of torment to never get out, did she feel me, was it evidence she lacked? And I see her again standing about to surpass this muggler world to the next.
Tilt slightly around the column, slowing by three steps forwards to make her feel unharmed with a resignation weight to face her. "Tina..."
At her sight trembled in a certain anger, now did not hesitate to hide, tried to say something, have never speak to anyone much, at her back, at her notion to turn. Taken aback one step, at once seized the opportunity, should have been prepared but what choices I have for permitting rejection. Breathing tight because, I don't want to belong, trusting no one, no one trusting me, blinded but for the vision to find out who am I. Whom am I, braking my voice out,.. it came out. "Whom am I?"
It was not just me, to believe the ones who ignored me to the distant boomings of my own, but another entity feeding, I knew they want me, instinctively is all that in this instance could follow. While the screaming echoed in my nerve system slapping the corners of my body to come out, I breath it in and it devours me, there is no appetite in this poor senses accumulating purged from weakened flavours. Thirsty to know, crashed into her flexing my knees for balance, pausing to remain stable for her, if any eruption of obscured desire to explode and drill out everything I contain could help me find, were this source comes from. Who is behind my blood line. My limbs strained with suppress need.
At first her well dress and gentle manner and then her eyes, questioning sipping into mine could feel. If she knew what she could do, I knew she could not wipe my mind, but was not for that reason that I forgot... trembled inside because, I broke the laws they intend to shoot me with, and in her eyes something unique I see, she cares, suspect that caring exists. For that reason,... is that for me,... she lost the place in her job, she told me back in New York City, when the story of who I'm not begins.