"I always wanted your hands to tangle together around mine even if the act went on constantly throughout time." I said to my husband. I love my husband so much but I know that he would not agree with what I have done to myself. His brown eyes dug into the core of my soul. He knows what I have done because he can read my mind. He is telepathic. "Is it possible for you to leave that clique that you have been involved with?" He asks. He knows the answer to that question since he asks it every time I appear before him. I will not leave Mother and Brother. Mother cured me. She improved my strength greatly. Now, I do not have to look to anyone to protect me because I can protect myself. The powers that she bestowed upon me leaves me permanently indebted to her. So, she told me to spy for her a few times and people have died from time to time,but she is still a generous female and nothing will ever tarnish her image in my mind.

"You let them experiment on you,again?" He asks. As he runs through my memories, the moving images appear when I blink and all I want to do is scurry. I came through the bedroom window of my husband's small home to relax and momentarily forget about the pressure Mother is putting me through. She wants me to learn how to control my powers but it is not easy. Last year was the end of my human life and the beginning of my lovely power filled one. I cannot master the powers that I have only had for a few months. His nosiness is making me very irritable. I cannot stay with him all night and I am getting bored with the prying game at a quicker pace than I imagined. "I do not want to talk about what has happened. I want..." I look at his bedroom door as I sit next to his covered body in the bed. The wooden floorboards just outside the door creek ever so lightly. Small green stems slither from the pores of my back until a few green phantoms appear all around us. The phantoms are connected to the ends of the stems like a Strychnine Tree. The phantoms open the door and I see Brother with his usual scowl. Why has he come here? A breath is securely stuck in my throat. I wonder if he heard everything that was said.

I try to get off the bed but my my vision begins to blur. I cannot pull the phantoms back inside of me because I believe that Brother will kill my husband. No, he and I have not been married for more than a month and we met a week after the first experiment, but I care about him. "Mother wants us to leave town the trolls are looking for us," Brother says. He walks up to the bed and looks down at us as if it was the worst scene he has ever seen in his life. "I want to say goodbye to my husband," I say. "I think that you both spent enough time with each other to say goodbye for eternity. So, come on. Mother is waiting outside and you know she does not like waiting." He says. I want to rip the long wooden brown strands, dangling in his face; from their roots. He squints his small brown eyes at me as my vision begins to blur again. I push my heavy body off the bed and shake as the air gets colder. My eyes wander and I find myself clutching Brother's arm to maintain my balance. A wave of nausea passes over and I try to pull the phantoms back in. Their images slightly fade but they do not obey. "She does not have to go with you! You are not her master. It is her choice. Carla, you know that you can stay with me and I will protect you from them." My husband says. Cold sweat makes my long, brown curls stick to my face. My lips are dry with small pieces of dead skin curling up on them. Brother lunges at my husband knocking my weak form to the floor with a heavy thud. Brother's arms encompasses my husband's face. My pallid skin seems to melt into the floor as I close my eyelids. Oh, I am so tired.

I just need a few minutes of rest. Yes, that is all I need. I will interfere after I relax. The phantoms envelope me with their shapes but they do not melt into my form. My flesh peels off until I am nothing but a frail, green ghost. In the past, I was so upset by the fact that it was so easy to get so sick that I would have to bed ridden for almost a month, but I must admit that obtaining power has not made me feel better. I may be stronger than other human beings around me but I am just as sick as I was when I was human.

I am dead. I am sure of it this time. A warm, golden prairie appears and a gentle voice says my name. It repeats at a constant pace as I walk through the grass without a care in the world. I am happy for the sake of being happy. There is no reason for my bliss and there is no reason to worry because everything is forgotten except my name. It echoes through atmosphere and rides along a gentle breeze. I do not need a name, right? All I have to do is forget everything and I can truly be happy. Why would I need my name? It was only needed so others could define, contact , or keep track of me in their thoughts. I know me and so I do not need a name. All I need is constant peace and so this place is where I long to be. Slowly, the voice fades into the distance and all I can hear is silence. I did not know that silence was capable of being so comforting, but it is.

I am ripped from the serene landscape and placed in a scene of hysteria. Scientists run around me with hazmat suits protecting them from something. I wonder what it is. I push myself off of the floor and find veins of green tracing the wall of my husband's home. I walk past hazmat suits with nothing but a tattered gown that was once a caramel shade but has settled with a lime green tone sometime before I awoke. My steps are slow but I do not tumble or tremble. A scientist tries to block my path but with a short spurt of anger from myself I find a green vein peeling itself off of the wall and wrapping itself around her. It crushes her body before me and sprouts a plant that looks like a larger version of the Venus Flytrap. It shuts her form within its mouth. I am not scared? I am not scared. I feel nothing emotionally about this whole scene. I think the best word to describe my current state is ennui. I find my way outside my husband's home and take one last glance at the place. Green veins makeup the home and may give anyone other than myself a creepy feeling, but I do not care. The trolls or shall I say the scientists usually find themselves in peculiar situations and places.

Mother calls my name with a loud whisper from behind a small tree across the street from the intense scene. I approach her slowly. Her thin, short red hair is disheveled as usual. "What happened? Where is Brother?" She asks in a low stern voice. "Honestly, I do not know. Last time I saw him he was working on killing my husband," I say in an unusually flat tone.

"I have been waiting out here since seven o' clock yesterday evening."

"What time is it now?"

"It is five o' clock in the morning! What were you two doing?"

"I do not know."

"This green mess appeared which I am sure was your doing and now the trolls are so close to us that we cannot sneeze without them hearing it and trying to pass us a chlorophyll soaked napkin! Remember that these people only care to dissect us."

Mother used to be a troll but she ran away from that job when she mistakenly pricked herself with a volatile fluid that has forced her DNA in an unstable state. Any day she can vanish like ash, become a liquid or a monster. I do not know much about her health state but I know that it is not good. So, I assume those are some of the things that she may become. "Stop daydreaming!" She exclaims and yanks my arm.

"I..."

"Where is Brother?"

"I...I do not know. I said I do not know! Why do you not believe me? I do not know!"

A spurt of anger rises within me, intensely. One second I am looking into charcoal tinted eyes and the next moment a green vein emerges from the ground before me. It snakes itself around her and I hear the signature sound of bones breaking. Then it sprouted a plant resembling the Pitcher Plant. The vein threw her mangled body within the pitcher. Her body sinks in the acid and a thought itches my conscience. What if I killed my husband and Brother?