Fated Beyond Bloodlines

Twyla's POV The taxi driver parks right where I ask him to and I smile kindly at him while I hand over his pay and get off. I shut hold onto my bag tightly as I watch him make a turn and drive back the way we came. Once the headlights are no longer seen, I heave a sigh and whirl to my right where I face the woods. It's past 8 pm and dusk has fully set in, the noise of night insects and the thought of whatever could be laying in wait causes a chill to run down my spine. It isn't my first time standing here and I'm certain it definitely wouldn't be the last. The concrete road I'm standing on is as quiet and empty as it always is on any of my visits. No one ventures down the road, except on rare occasions, which reduces the chance of meeting someone at such a time to a 0.1% To the human world, the woods are simply a scary place or for those brave, a place to create a vlog about and explore when bored. It is no news however that such large expanse of land surrounds a beautiful gated community. One with amazing architecture, plants, tales and honestly the most beautiful people to walk the earth, and that is meant in the most literal sense possible. They are also known to be of great wealth, however, they chose to live by their rules and in the most simple way. By simple I mean, driving classy cars like it's not a big deal and wearing casual wears that are more than my earnings. For me nonetheless, I know what the humans don't but I can't dare reveal a thing to a single of them. Down to this moment I am not sure if I have human nature in me, yet one thing I am sure of is the fact I am a witch. Shocked? You shouldn't be, that's if you had taken out time to question what I am doing at an empty road on the edge of the woods, alone by 8pm. Yes I come here once every week for something important, something that helps me blend in, something if I must say, is the reason I'm still alive and safe. Bracing myself, I put one foot in front of the other, making my way into the woods and the darkness it brings. With my right hand, I hunch up my dress as my feet which are thankfully in sneakers crush the dried leaves, while my left palm clench around the sling of my bag, its contents clicking and swishing with every step. I force my breath to remain calm as I venture further, counting my steps as well as the seconds in my head to distract my brain from fully registering my surroundings. I am too accustomed with the path that I don't need any form of light except that from the moon, but I'm not too accustomed to the point where I don't feel creepy about it. Being a witch had its pros and its cons, and being one like me who struggles alone, the cons outweigh the benefits. I was born like anyone else, however the chaos began when I was abandoned in the opharnage by my birth mother. Things got better when I was blessed by amazing foster parents, nonetheless that didn't last long as I got kicked out at the age of 12. Honestly? I don't blame them, seeing a child hauling a table in the air without touching it is a scary sight, more so when she accidentally lits something on fire by saying something odd and the craziest, seeing her floating in the air in her sleep. Like a miracle I wandered into a library, and the kind security man in charge let me use the attic as my room, bringing food when he could. I busied myself reading books and the bonus, learning spells and how to make portions from them. At first I thought it a joke until it worked. Fast forward years later, I'm a pro at spells and making portions. I signed up for online school from the age of 16 and now I have a degree and a stable job as a secretary at a company and the library on weekends. "What's that?" I ask no one in particular as my whole body goes still, the night breeze brushing the strands of my red hair as my ears pick up on some sounds. Regulating my breath, I focus on the sound and after a few seconds, my muscles tense as I pinpoint them to be voices, however I relax when I note they aren't close enough to be a threat judging by the fact I can't make out what is being said. According to the books I'd read a witch isn't supposed to have such ability, but I do and I am not certain if to be thankful or wary of that fact. I focus back on my mission and keep walking till I arrive at my usual spot, a small clearing that has a direct unobstructed view of the moon. Coming to a halt, I drop my bag and retrieve it's contents, strange liquids in odd colors, herbs, sticks, candles, a lighter, and my spell book. Before doing anything I get changed into a loose-fitting shirt from my bag. I learnt from the first time I did this that things can get messy and so to avoid questioning looks, I have to be prepared. Crouching down, I roll my hair into a bun atop my head and get to work, the moon providing sufficient light as I mix the different liquids into the last content from my bag, a small beaker. Once I catch a whiff of the scent I need, I place it down and start assembling the sticks and herbs together before flicking the lighter and setting it on fire. Moments later I did the same to the candle before blowing off the fire on both. Smoke replaces the flame and combines with the scent from the portion. I pick up the spell book and shuffle to the page I seek, inhaling a deep breath of the scents as I begin chanting the words. I shut the book as my brain registers the spell, my eyes shutting as I repeat line after line, the hairs on my skin standing, the sounds of the night quietening and the air shifting. My heartbeat speeds up and my fingers start shaking, suddenly the breath leaves my lungs and my body hits the floor just after something bright flashes and a deafening sound fills my ears