“You…” Jared says as he leaps through the kitchen window. Somehow, he found his way home. “I can’t believe you left me at a place filled with disgusting humans. How could you do that to me? I will remember this forever.” He runs away, deep inside the condo.
“He’ll get over it,” Dawn says as she munches on a thick noodle.
“Eliza, really. How can you forget Jared at school? And no, it’s not spaghetti. It’s fettuccini, thank you very much,” she says proudly.
“Mom, since when were you so interested in cooking?” I mumble, walking toward the kitchen table. I look at the cooking instructions. “You never cook. Let’s just order Chinese food.”
“It’s a nice, warm welcome to your place! You two are grown women now. It’s the least I can do.”
Dawn knows that I’m a witch. It was sort of one of those secrets that I couldn’t really be secretive about with a friend who is always around. Plus, Dawn is smart. She would have found out about the broomstick even if I hadn’t told her I was a witch.
Dawn is the only non-witch that Jared allows to see him. Of course, Jared used to freak Dawn out every time he started talking, but now Dawn is accustomed to his flirtatious ways with her.
Her level of curiosity can get out of control sometimes. As of now, all she knows is that I’m a witch, and she believes I can cast spells. I’ll just keep it that way until I learn more about what being a witch means myself. No point in talking to Dawn about something I don’t even fully understand yet.
My mom always avoids telling me about our kind. She claims it gives her headaches, but I think, for some reason, she’s just not ready to tell me more about being a witch.
Honestly, what else could shock me more than being a mystical witch?
I pick up Mom’s cooking book and flip through the pages.
“If I leave this earth,” Mom continues sadly, “I want you to at least know how to cook a decent pasta.” She shakes off the sadness. “So come over here and learn.”
She runs a finger through my hair. Of course, it gets caught. She untangles her finger and looks at me, her eyebrow raised.
“Please don’t,” I say. “And what do you mean by, ‘If I leave this earth’?”
“Would you know where to go if I did?” She hums as she stirs the pasta.
Jared hisses and becomes visible on the kitchen table. With a hint of warning in his tone, he says, “Grace…”
Mom watches him leap away and sighs.
“What are you talking about, Mom?”
“I’m just wondering.” She glances away, muttering something under her breath.
“Miss Canary. You told me a thousand times to go to her if anything happens to you.”
“Just checking.” She smiles with her eyes.
She turns around and continues gathering ingredients. Then she leans above the pot to sprinkle in some pepper and double checks the book. Dawn unpacks a few items from her boxes.
Our place isn’t that big. The walls are a nice creamy light color. Even though the condo is basic, it’s just right for the two of us.
Dawn enjoys dancing. She teaches choreography classes for hip-hop and lyrical. She stands a bit taller than me by an inch or two. We’ve been best friends since middle school.
“Damn it, I wasn’t supposed to add that until step three.”
While mom concentrates on her disastrous pot, I walk next to our island table in the kitchen. Hooks with pots and pans dangle above the table. They’re mainly decoration.
“So yeah, Miss Rose. We were planning on getting Verizon to come over this weekend,” Dawn murmurs. She and Mom are in the living room, talking.
I walk underneath the hooks. My ears prickle up when I hear the clinking of pots hitting one another. The same sound reverberates around the kitchen, but this time it’s louder. Suddenly, two pots fall from their hooks. I shriek in fear, throw up my hands, and close my eyes. A force gently pushes me to the side and wind whips across my cheeks.
I open my eyes and see my mother grab the pots before they fall onto the ground. She turns around and catches the other pot without looking. Her reflexes are amazing, almost ninja-like. She walks towards me, her eyes now completely normal.
I swear I thought they were beaming a light grey just a few seconds ago.
“Are you okay?” she says.
“Y-yeah…I’m fine.”
My mother looks at the hooks, her eyes narrowing. With her eyes, she searches the kitchen. I have no idea what she could be looking for. She was just talking to Dawn in the living room. How did she get to me so quickly?
“How did you…” I begin. “Your back was facing me. How could you have known?”
“Instinct.” She places her hand on my cheek. “You’re a witch, Eliza. Hence the talking cat over there.” She points to Jared, who is grooming himself. “You might want to start using your instinct.”
I know I’m a witch, but she never thoroughly explains anything to me. As far as I know, we’re the only witches in the east coast. I tried a countless number of times to fly with my broomstick, but it’s too small to even lift me up in the air. It’s useless. I remember the days when I went into my closet and sang “Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo” from Cinderella, and what did I get? Nothing…absolutely nothing.
Apparently, Cinderella’s fairy godmother doesn’t exist.
***
Lately, my ears have been able to pick up noises I didn’t think I could hear. Even though I wear glasses, I’ve been finding myself not needing to wear them all the time. I’ve been able to see things from a distance, and I rarely squint any more.
When mom leaped in front of me to block the pans, she said she did it because of instinct. Maybe instinct plays a role in why my sight isn’t as burdensome all of a sudden? Then again, there’s a lot of things Mom says that can be labeled as nutty.
I fix my glasses and watch mom carefully walk to the pot she’s been slaving over. The kitchen grows awkwardly silent. Dawn rushes in to see if I’m all right. I tell her I’m fine and help her unpack some of her belongings.
“Next time, try to be aware of your surroundings, honey,” Mom says.
“I will, but what does instinct have to do with being a witch?”
I glare at Jared. I know he knows more about this witch nonsense than he’s letting on. His eyes quickly avoid mine. He runs up the stairs, the ‘J’ on his collar jingling.
Absentmindedly, I follow him upstairs, carefully holding onto my purse. I enter my room and toss my bag on the bed. Jared is on the window counter, watching me.
“I know you know more, Jared,” I say, not looking at him as I walk to my drawer.
“I know you’re a witch too.”
“Cut the crap. She’s hiding something.”
Jared leans in front of me and bends down to stretch his back. His fur springs up and his claws clench together, showing his nails.
He yawns. “Eliza, I know nothing.”
“Sure you don’t.” I cross my arms. “How come I can’t cast spells or float in the air, like in the movies?” I snap, taking off my cardigan. I throw it in the dirty clothes basket.
“Cast spells and float?” He laughs, “Really, Liza, you’re hilarious. Witches are nothing like that. Calm your nerves,” he says sarcastically.
“What are they like?”
“Normal people.” He scratches his ear. “Don’t fret.”
“Whatever.” I wave at him.
“Eliz—”
“E-Lee-Suh,” I interrupt.
I totally forgot that, earlier, I made plans to go to the mall with Dawn. I throw the clothes I’m holding on the ground and rush downstairs.
“Hey, Mom.”
“What’s up? I can hear it in your voice,” she answers, swooning over the lettuce she’s cutting.
“I kind of made plans with Dawn today. I was hoping we could do this big dinner some other time.”
She stops cutting and turns around, sadness in her eyes.
“I was thinking we�
��d spend some time together before you start your journey of college and, well, life.”
“I know, but we’ll always have time together.”
“I guess you can go. The noodles died in that pot anyway.” She shrugs.
“It’s okay, Mom. You tried.” I rest my hand on her shoulder.
The wind outside is really picking up, and the tree’s leaves are rustling in the air, singing as they collide against one another. I glance down at the plate my mother is holding. Something is beaming under her sleeve.
“Hey, when did you get more tattoos?”
I mean, if she did get another tattoo, I wouldn’t mind. It’s pretty cool. Mom quickly covers her arm and puts the plate on the table. She jogs into the bathroom and yells, “You two have fun! Remember what I told you.”
“I’m ready when you are, Liz!” Dawn says. She twirls around in a circle and walks out of the house.
The moment Mom and I just shared was sort of bittersweet. Now my mother knows for a fact that her little daughter is growing up.
I grab my bag from the couch. A box that seems to be glowing catches my eye. Jared leaps in front of me and on top of the box, closing it. Mom comes out of the bathroom with her skin showing and her sleeves pushed up, cuffed. She parts her lips when she realizes that I haven’t left the house yet.
“Oh, Eliza,” she mutters, turning to look at the front door. “I thought you were leaving with Dawn.”
I don’t know why she’s shocked that I’m still here. She wasn’t in the bathroom for that long. She quickly covers her arms, but not quickly enough. I see what she’s trying to hide. Glowing, silver swirly markings cover her forearms.
She presses her lips together and glances at Jared. He races to the front door, scratches the wood, and makes his way to the stairs. His necklace jingles as he leaps over the steps. Mom swiftly walks into the kitchen, closing the curtains over the sink, and turns around. She traces the side of her cheek with her index finger.
She walks toward the back of the house. She looks up at the pans that fell not too long ago, then says, “They know you’re alive.” She takes my arm and brings me into the living room. “We don’t have time.”
After clearing her throat, she double checks the locks on the front door and glides to the windows to see if they’re shut tight.
“Who, Mom? What’s going on? Why are you acting this way?” I search her face for answers. Jared comes back downstairs with a clear bottle of black dust. “What’s that in his mouth?”
She bends down to take the bottle. Then she looks up at me.
“It’s protective dust.”
Mom wraps her hand around the clear bottle and breaks off the cap by smashing it into the wall. She steps back and chucks the bottle at my door. Everything feels as if we’re moving in slow motion. My blood pressure rises and an annoying ringing sound that sounds like it’s coming from a dog whistle screams around me. I cover my ears and close my eyes.
A black cloud of smoke hovers around the entrance of my house. Jared leaps onto my mom’s shoulder as she walks into the kitchen, takes out the knives, and opens the cabinets to grab clear bottles. She slaps the glass on the counter, then opens another cabinet and grabs the salt. She pours the tiny grains into several clear bottles.
I sprint to her. “Someone please tell me what is going on!”
Mom ignores me and continues what she’s doing. I take the bottles from her and move the salt bag across the counter. “Tell me what’s going on right now.” My breathing is harsh. I glance at the smoke in my house. “What is that dark smoke and why is it in my home? I don’t live with you anymore so you’re not going to bring this wacky witch stuff here.”
She glares at me. “Jared, get my broomstick ready.”
He leaps off her shoulders and runs into the living room. I pay her no attention. She’s going loopy again, just like when I witnessed her talking to herself that time in front of our bookcase.
My mom blocks me from putting the bottle away. I wrestle with her. She loosens my grip around the bottle. It falls to the ground and shatters.
“Mom, seriously?” I move her aside with my arm. “Move out of my way.”
“Eliza, put the bottles down,” she says, snatching them out of my hands. She stops moving. Jared’s ears perk up and she steps back a little, as if she heard something.
“It’s no one, Grace. We’re good,” Jared says. He looks at the black dust in my house. It’s starting to clear out.
“Tell me what’s going on around here!”
“If I tell you anything, they’ll know exactly where you are. You’ve already seen the tattoos.” I glance down at her markings around her arms.
Jared hops up on the kitchen counter and puts another bottle on the table. “Listen to your mother. There are certain things you can’t know just yet about being a witch and all.”
He starts to open his mouth, as if he’s about to say something else, but Mom gazes at Jared and clears her throat to get his attention.
“Don’t say their name,” she warns him.
“Who are you talking about?” I ask.
She looks at me. “Listen, the protective dust lures off evil from this house for a while. You seeing my markings draws in that evil.” She purses her lips and places her hands on my shoulder. “That is all I can say for right now.”
I roll my eyes, remove her hands, and grab my bag. “You’re seriously crazy, Mom.”
After shooting her one last glare, I throw my purse around my shoulder and walk to the front door, waving the leftover smoke from my face. Our doorbell rings. My mom rushes to answer it.
“This is my house, Mom. Let me get my door.”
“No! It’s fine. Go ahead and get changed.”
I glance down at what I’m wearing. I can’t go shopping looking like this. There’s black dust all over my shirt and pants. I can’t believe my mom’s random, dumb, witch freak-outs are starting to get to me. When I was fourteen, I just brushed them off like they were some sort of phase for her. Now, six years later, nothing has changed, and I’m starting to get tired of hearing the nonsense she talks about.
Broomstick that, broomstick this, get in the house before eight or they’ll come for me. Who’s coming for me? I don’t know a damn thing. Her imaginary friends are all that she has left in that old house I used to live in. I can accept that I have a broomstick and a talking cat who’s not even a cat, but some sort of magical familiar. My question is, where is the magic? It doesn’t exist.
I reach for the door to answer the knocks, but she pushes her way in front of me and quickly unlocks and opens it. There’s a man standing on my steps. He looks muscular and well-dressed with black hair. Mom slips out immediately.
“Hey, Liz! We don’t have all day, ya’ know,” Dawn shouts from outside.
“Uh yeah, sorry. Give me a sec,” I say.
I run upstairs and pass Jared, who quickly follows me into my room. “You need to talk some sense into my mother, Jared. I swear…”
He plops on my bed. “Oh hush, you should be used to it by now,” he says, waving a paw at me. Grabbing the clothes on the floor, I trudge into the bathroom.
By the time I get out, Jared is gone and the house is awkwardly silent. Dawn is outside mumbling a few lyrics from her iPod and holding her purse. I clench my fingers around my purse and leave the house. I turn around and take one last glimpse at our new condo.
Mom must be talking to a new guy.
Well, what can you expect? I figured she’d move on from her dead husband at some point.
Chapter 4
Dawn is leaning against my car, texting. The light outside is slowly dimming.
I need to do a little stress relieving today, considering I have to take some stupid SDV class at school. Our mall isn’t like your typical mall. It’s an outlet of stores lined up on the side of the street. We call it The Strip, and the sight of it at night is truly amazing.
The Strip has more than just stores. There are clubs, pubs, and a
nything else social you can think of. Dawn and I walk down the stone sidewalk.
“So...I think I want to try out for the VCU cheer team.”
“Really?” Dawn mutters in awe, her attention on a dress displayed at Hot Topic.
“Well, I’m still thinking about it. You know, new school, new life type of thing. I need to get involved in something.”
“Liza, you’re not invisible. Sure, you have an un-tamed mane that seems to be always frizzy,” she catches herself looking at my hair, and then she gets back to the point. “But no, seriously, you have friends here and there.” She pauses to think. Then she smiles and lifts her finger. “Like Jake.”
I roll my eyes. Jake asked me to homecoming dance freshman year of high school. He was extremely clingy and wanted a simple date to turn into a relationship. I wasn’t interested, though, so he turned into this big creep who stalked me throughout the years of high school. I don’t know where he is now and, quite frankly, I do not care.
“He’s no one, Dawn. It’s just you and me.”
“And? What’s the matter with keeping a small circle?”
We walk into Urban Outfitters.
An associate greets us. “Hey, guys, how are you doing?”
“Great,” Dawn answers.
“Anything I can help you find?”
“Nope, we’re just browsing,” I say.
The girl is short with a caramel skin tone. She’s wearing a black beanie and has solid white skinny jeans on with a red flannel around her waist. Her outfit looks nice. She knows what she’s doing.
Obviously she knows what she’s doing. She works at a fashion retail store.
Time quickly passes by while we try on clothes and have a fun time. Dawn struts out, wearing tiger print joggers and some bracelets. Her pink hair whips and waves as she models for me.
I walk out my fitting room wearing a black t-shirt with ‘YOLO’ in the middle of it and a beanie with ‘BARBIE’ written across it. Clearly I’m not one. I laugh.
Through the glass of the store, I see Eric checking out the shops on his side. He’s with a blonde guy. They both seem very charming.
Mystical (The Mystical Trilogy Book 1) Page 4