“Like I’ve just gone ten rounds with an evil, witch killing I should shut up now because I’m delirious.”
“Amber-Lou. You’re okay,” Alex screeched. “We were so worried.”
“Okay’s a very strong word Alex.” She lifted the arm that hurt least and pulled him down to her. “Come here, you big lug. I think someone needs a hug. Stay for a minute – I need to talk to you.” She kissed him lightly on the side of his head and let him go. “I’m not okay, bit I will be, one day, I hope. Oh hey Aunt K. You didn’t have to come all the way over here. I’m not exactly doing anything that warrants a visit.”
The older woman just smiled and stepped into the corridor to wait for the doctor. This was a time the girl should be spending with the people she was closest to. She shouldn’t be butting in – maybe I’ll come back later.
“I’m so sorry I put you guys through all that yester – how long have I been out?” Amber winced as she breathed in. “Note to self… don’t move.”
“About four days,” India informed her. “You were in surgery for hours.”
“Well, according to my chart, I got off pretty lightly.” She reached over, grabbed it and began to read from it. “Severe concussion. Massive blood loss from a wound in back. Broken ankle. And numerous small bruises. Pretty impressive for a… horrific car crash with no other vehicles or victims.”
“Thank God, you’re still in one piece. We were worried sick over you. I even drank a milkshake, and I’m lactose intolerant. Suppose I was in the right place though.” He always started babbling when he was relieved.
“Thanks Dad. I’m so glad I didn’t die in vain.”
“Huh? You’re not dead. Anyway, onto good news –“
“Woah, slow down. My brain isn’t up to speed yet.”
“Sorry.” Mr Tully took a deep breath and carried on more slowly. “India’s moved in with us. That’s something to look forward to.”
“I’m in the spare room. I know you need your space,” India smiled.
“That’s nice… I’ll have a girl to talk to. India, would you wait outside with Dad. I need to speak to Alex.” She watched as they went out and went out, and waited for Alex to speak.
“What was it like? Being dead?”
“It doesn’t matter now.” A single tear rolled down her cheek – the first tear she had cried in what seemed like an eternity. “It’s all over now. What’s wrong with me, Alex?”
“I think you’ve just been through that list.” He bent down and brushed her hair away from her face.
“No, I don’t mean physically – that’ll all heal. I mean me.” No more tears fell but her face took on a haunted look that always seemed to be there now. “I think there’s something wrong. I should be glad that I won the fight, happy that I’m alive. But I’m not.”
Epilogue
I left hospital the day after I came round – the doc wasn’t too thrilled, she wrote in her diary. And coming home should’ve been the happiest day of my life – but it wasn’t. Don’t get me wrong, it was nice enough and I haven’t stopped smiling. But I’m not happy, not really, even though I keep telling people I’m okay. When I was dying – and dead – I was just there. I didn’t have to worry all the time. I was in a world of light and I could just, y’know, be. And then I had to leave that behind and come back to this… darkness. Everything’s changing – I can feel it. I don’t even know if I should still be here. I keep thinking that I… I don’t know.
I don’t think I could have stayed away if I had tried though. I need something to fight for.
Onto less depressing news. I made a new friend that day called India Payne. She’s 21 and American. Mostly. Her mom was Jamaican, and her dad was French-Canadian. She was born and raised in Malibu, then she bummed around in LA for a few years before coming to England when she was 18, which was very cool. She doesn’t like to talk about her family, but I think it’s good that she’s confident enough to go and make a life so far away from home. I could never do that. I think India was homeless before she moved in here – it’s like she gives off this vibe.
Dad knows I’m different, but he’s still in denial about the witch thing. I reckon he’s trying to ignore the fight with Liatruz rather than just accept what went on in that cave. I can’t say I blame him – I’d probably try to ignore it if I could, it’s not exactly the most normal secret in the world. I’m gonna have to tell him about this sooner or later (I’ll force him into a chair and go ’Right, Dad. Listen up.’) ‘cos I don’t wanna have to keep things from him. This magick is a huge part of my life, part of who I am, and I can’t keep him shut out from it.
Oh yeah, the fight. Well, he obviously didn’t kill me, or I wouldn’t be here. He died though; well, he exploded in that very dead-making kind of way. I made this reversal spell which I wasn’t sure would work, but it did. He tried to suck my brain but I kept saying the spell which turned his magick around on himself and he ended up sucking all the evil out of himself. I didn’t use any of the spells from the book – I think that would’ve killed me dead.
She flexed her writing hand and slid the diary back under her bed.
“Amber. You’ve got a letter here.” India knocked on the door and walked in holding a white envelope between her fingers. “I think it’s important. It looks official.”
Amber-Louise took the letter and stared at the postmark. She vaguely recognised it, but couldn’t place it – her memory hadn’t fully returned yet. She slit it open and read it quickly. ”Dear Miss Tully blah blah blah. Man, this is wicked!” Her face broke into a wide grin and she showed the letter to India.
“Oh, Amber. That’s fantastic! Can I go show this to your dad? He’ll be so happy for you.” The raven-haired girl took the letter and bounded down the stairs. Sometimes, it was hard to believe that India was as old as she was, she was so excitable.
“Well done, Amber!” Mr Tully shouted from a downstairs room. “I’ll buy you some new kit!” Amber-Louise had been given a trial with Millford Ladies hockey squad having played for the U19s since she was 14. There was no guarantee that she would get a place on the team but even she had accepted that she was quite a good player. She hadn’t even thought about the fact that she wasn’t supposed to put any strain on her back or ankle.
Using her free hand, she reached up and grabbed the ringing phone from it’s holder. “Hello?” She sat down on the bed and tried to ram her feet into her trainers with one hand.
“Hey, Amber-Lou.”
“Oh, hey, Alex.” She gritted her teeth against the twinges of pain that shot through her muscles and walked around. It didn’t hurt too much to move but her muscles got stiff if she sat still for a long time.
“How’re you doing?”
“All major extremities present and correct.”
“No, seriously, how are you feeling?”
“Better I think. So, what’s up in the world of the living?”
He could hear the tiredness in her voice and was proud of her for not using magick to heal her injuries. She was naturally a quick healer, but he could tell it was getting her down. “Nothing much. I just thought you could do with a bit of an ego boost.”
She considered the idea for a moment. “Hmm. Does that involve doing lots of things I could never tell my dad about? Preferably involving whipped cream.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of handcuffs… but whipped cream works,” he replied.
“Anyway, I’ve had my happy pill today.” Amber-Louise climbed onto her bed and rooted around underneath for her spell book. “I got a letter today saying that I’ve got a trial with the ladies team. I mean, I’m not definitely gonna get a place or anything, but I can’t wait.”
“That’s great but, when is it?”
“I knew that was coming. It’s the week after next but it’s not an issue. I swear I’ll be alright by then.”
“Remember, if you feel
the slightest bit of pain you must rest. The opposite to what you’re not doing right now. Or something.”
“Uh-huh. I promise,” she vowed, distractedly. With her free hand, she wiped two fingers over her forehead, and then ran them over the blank page, as if reading Braille that wasn’t there. Writing began to appear but she didn’t watch. “India! Dad! You ready to go?” she shouted, coughing slightly. “Alex. Remember what I said about not really being happy?”
“Sure. It’s not something you tend to forget when your best friend says she wishes she was dead.”
“Promise me you won’t tell anyone about that. I don’t wanna think about it.” I don’t want to remember that happiness. I want to forget the thing I could have had if I didn’t come back – peace. “Look, I can’t really talk right now. I’ve got physio in a few minutes – wanna come with me?”
To destroy magick borne of evil:-
In this time I shall defeat
In this place I won’t retreat
I wish the wrongs of all before
Not come to me as I am more
He is black as I am white
Into this dark I will bring light
He thinks my magick not so strong
But in this case I know him wrong
I pray my strength will overcome
He and all he has become
About the author
Wendy Maddocks lives in Birmingham, England, with her slightly crazy family. She blames them for her twisted imagination. Sanity is not her friend. She enjoys reading and studying, working out and eating cake, which makes her fat and in need of yet another gym session. (Yes, I’m a masochist!) She also has a fear thing about sheep. After graduating from university, Wendy began publishing her own work online and is always working on new writing projects. What will happen when she runs out of ideas?
No, let’s not wonder that.
Connect with her on Facebook, Tumblr or on Twitter @writerwenz84
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