Swallow, Beau tells himself. Just do it. It’s the only way to save both of them pain, and he knows as much. Unfortunately, that doesn’t make it any easier. David was prone in a cot, laying peacefully asleep in front of him. He felt so far away, and yet, Beau was sure it was the other boy’s heartbeat that rung through his ears. Silently, he stood and crept toward the door, nonchalantly checking to see if anyone might see.
Hidden. He’s both relieved and disappointed when he takes his place by David’s side. His eyes tear up as the thrum of his magic surges beneath his skin.
Guilt. Beau sighed. His magic saved his best friend- the love of his life. His magic also cursed them both forever.
If watching cartoons has taught me anything, it’s that morality is relative. Even heroes can commit atrocities. Superman can destroy a city in pursuit of the bad guy- causing injuries and property damage- but as long as he was doing it for the right reasons, nobody cared. I mean really, he wasn’t getting paid anyway.
I sit in my car, staring at the sprawling building in front of me. Though it was an extremely small school, with class sizes typically down to around 60 by graduation, it always felt like the kind of place that went on forever. I had never seen all of it. I doubted I ever would.
Getting out and walking up to the door felt like a reflex, one I’d forgotten I had- like when the doctor taps your knee with a hammer and your leg twitches all on its own.
The girl at the front desk is familiar. If I dig deep, I’d find vague memories of the two of us sitting in class together, discussing answers. I don’t remember her name on my own, but the cheap nametag she wears saves me the trouble.
I watch her pick out the correct nametag for the woman in front of me with a grin and a warm greeting. I think they might’ve been friends, half a lifetime ago.
She turns back to me and her face falls. She’s cold. I’m unrecognizable. I see the nametag meant for me. It reads a name I haven’t heard in years.
“Is there a problem?” She purses her lips.
“No.” I pick it up. There’s a pen in my pocket.
I was prepared for this.
She stares at me curiously. I step past the desk and into the bowel of the school.
I was prepared for this.
One
Two
Three
People bustle around my home. Every single greeting is accompanied by a hug and a kiss on the cheek. A tray of cookies barely makes it through the door before it’s being passed around.
Four
Five
Six
Shouts come from the other room as I lead the newcomers to where the rest of the group has spilled chips and dip. I cringe internally, knowing I’ll be the one to clean it up later.
Seven
The warm smell of seasoned meat and crinkle of chip bags stirs in the kitchen as we pile around the small counter space to dress our walking tacos. Sweet churros are gone as they’re set out. Punch splashes on the floor, dice roll, and shouts ring across the table as the Dungeon Master tries to be heard through the chatter (she fails). Snide commentary is quickly overshadowed by laughter and even the shyest of us cracks a few jokes when he feels like teasing some poor soul.
It’s loud.
It’s messy.
It’s all I’ve wanted for the longest time.
The walk home from school has always been the same. Every day, without fail, I start down Cypress Street and find myself cutting through Cherrycreek woods. Within five minutes, I’d be home.
Naturally, today was the exception.
As soon as I entered the woods, something felt off-putting. I slowed my pace, glancing around to see that I was completely alone. Not a single bird chirped, no snapping twigs or rustling foliage. It was strangely warm; not the average, humid heat that came with the time of year, but a hot, dry, hollowing atmosphere that sucked at your skin.
I took a few more staggered steps before feeling warmth trickle down my face. I brought a hand to my lips, finding that blood had trickled from my nose to my chin and was starting down my neck. My vision swam as I collapsed to my hands and knees, the ground taking me by surprise. I didn’t remember it being muddy out, in fact, it hadn’t rained since last week. But the dirt was wet and hot, nearly steaming; I pulled my hands back, not wanting them to burn.
“What’s... what’s happening?” I asked aloud, though there was no one to hear me. At least, I didn’t think there was anyone to hear me. I was proven wrong when a young woman dressed in old, dark clothing appeared on front of me.
“It seems I’ve caught the wrong fly in my web,” I could sworn I heard her say, “come with me, darling. We should get you fixed up before it progresses any more.” My mind was foggy, and for a moment I thought I must’ve hit my head because it made complete sense to follow her as she lead me away to who knows where.
“I’m sorry you were caught up in this- watch you step, dear. You must know that I was counting on someone else being here before you.” She opened the door to a cottage of never seen before and helped me inside with the gentle press of her hand on my back. “Witchcraft can be a bit tetchy at times as well, so I’m sure that didn’t help.”
“Witchcraft, right,” I mumbled, barely audible to even myself. She smiled, sweet and empathetic. She had the effortlessly beautiful and elegant persona of Morticia Addams. Dark, short curly hair fell around her face and pale brown eyes surreally lit up her expression. She wore black and green clothes I could only describe as pirate-esque.
I admired her as she handed me something and told me to eat it. I obeyed, eating the bitter, soft something she’d given me without question. Something about her was trustworthy, and there wasn’t really a part of me that found anything strange or wanted to leave.
I felt myself start to drift, unable to hold my head up as I grew closer and closer to unconsciousness.
“Sweet dreams, dear. You’ll be up before you know it,” I heard her say, but I was already to far gone to properly register her words.
I woke up on the ground in Cherrycreek woods. I sat up and noticed that the sun was nearly set; when I checked my watch, I saw that it had been four hours since I’d left the school. I could faintly hear voices in the distance, calling my name.
“Bianca, Bianca where are you?” My family’s voices were distinct.
“I’m here!” I yelled back, not trusting my body enough to stand stable.
“Bianca, there you are!” My mother came into view, clearly distraught. “What happened, where have you been?”
“I don’t know. The last thing I remember was walking home from school and I...” I paused, trying to remember, “I don’t know, I must’ve gotten dizzy and passed out.” I answered, truthfully. It felt odd to look back at an entire afternoon’s worth of your life and find it missing. It was like prodding at the space in your mouth that used to be home to a tooth, expect I had the distinct feeling that there would be no filling of this gap.
“We should get you to the doctor, come with me,” she ordered, and I nodded, pushing myself to my feet and letting her lead me away. In the distance, a small cottage sat on a hill with the light on, but I didn’t see anyone inside. In fact, I was certain that it hadn’t been there yesterday when I’d walked this same route home.
