The Witch and her Wolf

Chapter 4

I could not believe what I was hearing. And by the look on her face, she was serious. Dead serious. 

“W-what do you mean? What are you talking about? Witches don’t exist!” I say in all one breath.

“Don’t be so quick to say things that you have no idea about. You have no idea what else walks this earth. Witches do exist my dear. My grandmother, your great-grandmother, was a witch. And she could do amazing things. We are the descendants of a long line of powerful witches from Salem, itself. Going all the way back to a woman named Elizabeth Sanford. One of our ancestors” she finished.

I immediately recognized that name. It was the name that I said in class today when I was challenged by Professor Douche-racket. “You’re serious?” I ask brows raised and eyes wide. Once I left that classroom, a couple of hours ago, I felt guilty, Like it was somehow my fault. Maybe because it was my fault. 

“Completely” she said without changing her expression. 

Just by looking at her face, I know she’s telling me the truth. She wouldn’t lie to me like this. 

“Ok. What do I do now? I never asked for this! How do I get rid of it? I don’t ever want to accidentally hurt anyone!” I start to panic. And I mean really panic. After a second or two, I realize I’m having another panic attack. My mom reaches for my white purse on the floor next to the couch and pulls out my inhaler. She hands it to me as quick as she can, which is pretty slow because of her leukemia, but still. I snatch my inhaler from her, and use it. I pump it two or three more times and I feel the panic attack slip away. 

“You need to calm down, Addy. You were born with gifts, not curses. You can’t get rid of it, as far as I know. You need to learn how to use your abilities, and you will never harm anyone, ever. This is who you are, honey.” she says and cups my face in her hands. This is just another thing to worry about, on top of everything else.

“There is a boarding school in New Orleans. A school for girls like you, where you can learn to control your abilities” she said and my heart sank. She wanted to send me away? Who was going to help her? Can we afford this new school? What if I can’t go? Questions swarm my mind and as I’m about to ask every single one of them, she holds her hand up and says, “You are going to this school, and that's final. You need to learn how to control your abilities, because if you don’t-” she pauses, “you might do something that you might have never intended to do.” 

She looks at me as if it’s going to be the last time ever. Tears are filling her eyes, but she 

tries to hide them. Her hand is still on my face but now she's rubbing her thumb on my cheek, wiping away my fallen tears. 

“I’ll call the school tonight. You’ll probably need to leave within the weekend.” she said, trying to hide her sadness. “Go… Now!” she shoos me off and picks up our home phone. 

A million questions swallow my thoughts. Magic exists. Witches exist. What else exists? If I really did that in the classroom, what else could I do? How many others were there like me? What could those people do? I try to stop thinking about these questions that I couldn’t answer by myself. I will just have to get my answers when I get there. A part of me, doesn’t want to leave my mother here. I know she certainly can’t go with me. She is far too sick with her leukemia to travel to New Orleans. But a part of me wants to learn about my so-called gifts. I hated myself for being excited. I should stay here and take care of my mom. 

I’m staring at my empty duffle bag on my bed wondering what to take. Do they wear uniforms? How much clothes should I take? I pack two sweatshirts, a few pairs of jeans, a couple of t-shirts, one dress, socks, underwear, bras, two pairs of sneakers, and some other things. I lay out my outfit for tomorrow, high-waisted ripped boyfriend jeans, and a cropped vintage t-shirt with a blue car on it, and I also had set out a pair of black chucks. 

Tomorrow I need to go quit my jobs at the bowling alley and book store. I’ve worked there ever since my mom got diagnosed. She said that we had enough money to carry on as normal, but I wanted to have some extra cash incase we needed it. 

I grab my emergency cash box from my empty dresser drawer and put all the cash into my wallet. I almost couldn’t close the zipper from how much cash I saved. 

I packed a small emergency backpack with a spare charger, a hoodie, a copy of my favorite book Percy Jackson by Rick Riordan and a few other things that I may need.

I checked the time on my alarm clock on my nightstand. The obnoxious red numbers read 12:56 am. Holy s**t! Time sure flies by when a bomb about yourself is dropped on you. I’m not even tired. I go to my computer and decide to email my bosses. I changed my mind about seeing them in person, I just want to spend as much time with my mother as I possibly can before I have to leave. The question of when I would leave arose in my mind again, along with many others. I push those questions aside, and wrap up my emails to my bosses. 

By the time I check the time on my old alarm clock it's 1:18 am. I zip up my duffle bag and small backpack and slide it under my bed. I go out to grab my purse and inhaler and see that my mother has gone to bed. Obviously! It's 1:20, I told myself. I pick up my purse and inhaler from the couch and I realize that I hadn’t eaten the pizza. I opened the box to make sure that my mom at least had one slice of pizza, and I see that two slices are missing out of the circle. I go back to my room and toss my purse where I had set out my clothes and go back out to the living room. 

I grabbed my paper plate that I had set out earlier and put two slices on it and put it in our old toaster oven that was bound to blow up someday by the condition it was in. Once the timer went off, I quickly turned it off, at least trying not to wake my mother up. I grabbed a small bottle of lemonade from the fridge and headed to the couch. I put on one of my favorite movies, The Hangover, and try to eat my pizza in peace without thinking about everything that happened today. 

With thirty-seven minutes left in the movie, I had finished my pizza leaving the crust of only one of the slices and having no more than a sip of lemonade left. 

I had noticed the tv remote lying on the coffee table and I got an idea. If I really was a witch, could I maybe move it? I stare down the remote concentrating on nothing but it. I wanted it to move. Fly right into my hand. I pictured it happening. I put everything I had into moving this one small object. Within the blink of an eye the remote flew into my hand, a little harder that I intended. The butt of the remote hit my wrist and I dropped the remote in pain. Holding my wrist and stifling my curses in pain, I freeze at the realization of what I had just done. I move a remote with my f*****g MIND! 

Holy s**t! So I can really do this s**t. This is real. This is really happening. 

I snap out of my trance and look at the clock. It's almost three in the morning now, and I better get to sleep. I turn off my tv and work my way to my bedroom at the end of the hallway. I belly flopped on my sheets and by the time my head hit my flat pillow, exhaustion consumed me and darkness swallowed me.

I wake up to the morning sun rising through my window and I check my alarm clock only to find out that it's 7:28 am. I got about four and a half hours of sleep and yet I wasn’t tired. Not even a little bit. Excitement about what I did last night had given me enough energy. I walk out to the kitchen, careful not to wake my mother if she wasn’t up yet and make myself a cup of coffee with my favorite hazelnut creamer. I leave enough for my mom to have two cups of coffee if she wanted any. I drink down the mug in one big gulp and I rush off to the bathroom to brush my teeth to get rid of the gross coffee morning breath combo then put on extra deodorant because it has always been an insecurity of mine. Then I set off to my room to get ready for the day. First I put on my clothes and sneakers then I went to the mirror on my door and styled my hair. And my styled, I mean put it into a side braid. I threw on some concealer to hide those little imperfections, some mascara and lip-gloss. I put what little make up I had into a small wallet size bag with some tampons in case my period decides to come early this month and threw it into my white purse. 

I hear rustling out in the living room and I realize that my mom is up. I had a day planned for us. If I didn’t have a lot of time with her before I left. I was going to make the most out of it. First I was going to take her out to breakfast to get her favorite breakfast burritos, then we were going to get out nails done and-

My thoughts came to a halt when I stepped out of my bedroom and realized that there were three strangers in my house talking to my mother. Once I stepped out of the hallway, my presents did not go unnoticed by these strangers. 

There were two men and a woman. Then men were definitely security guards for the woman. Either that or they just came out of one of the Men in Black movies. They wore black suits and ties with sunglasses that Will Smith wears on the cover for Men in Black. They both couldn’t be older than thirty-five. They wore similar, unfazed expressions on their faces and stared me down. 

The woman, however, looked nothing like I’ve ever seen before. She had fiery red frizzy hair and she was wearing cat eye-glasses straight out of the fifties. She wore a white floral dress and a green sweater over it. She had to be at least sixty. 

Everyone's eyes were fixed on me. Who were these people? Oh no! I had just answered the question for myself. 

“Hello Addison, I’m Agatha Snow. Your mother has told us all about you” she says rising from her seat and my eyes go wide then dart to my mother. 

“It’s time, baby” she says with complete sadness on her face.