The Witch and The Ghost

Reunion

Michael's point of view

I had never been so glad to hear her voice, even if I didn't know her name.

"She couldn't touch anything, how did you know it would work?"

"While I was researching I found this little crystal shop. I got a little lost trying to find it and no one seemed to know about it, but I finally found it. This little elderly lady named Angelique owned the shop and told me only a white witch could find her shop. It was quite a shock to hear and I couldn't believe it. She told me that there was no other reason I would have found it. She told me that all her items would protect me if I believed they would. Only my power and belief could do that, no one else's."

I wasn't surprised by the information but it still hurt to hear. After all, a witch is why I was here. I still couldn't trust any witch good or bad, yet I had grown to enjoy her company. I should have known her ability to interact with me was a sign.

"I am glad you found a way to protect your children. I guess you will no longer need me. Before I go, can I at least know your name?"

"It's Freya, but Michael what is wrong? Why would I not need you? I thought we were friends."

These words hurt me the most. I hadn't had a friend since Anna Marie left when she came of age all those years ago. Now, now that it was confirmed she was a witch things would never be the same. Instead of welcoming her and accepting her, I lashed out at her.

"Friendship? How pitiful it must be to consider us friends. How can a witch and a ghost be friends? I never considered us friends. I only thought I was protecting innocent people, but you are far from innocent."

Freya's point of view

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. How could this one little thing change so much? I am a white witch and I just found out. I had never been bad nor was I going to turn bad. I always had what my mother said was a bleeding heart. This betrayal stung, how could he think this of me?

"I didn't know until I went to that shop. How can you say I'm not innocent? How can you think such things of me, I'm your friend, not your enemy."

"You could be lying. You could've known. You could've guessed it from the moment you came into this house. I can't trust any witch, good or bad."

" Does that mean you aren't going to protect my children anymore? She said any child I had would be the same as me. Are they not innocent? They are just children and shouldn't have to deal with these things."

I was crying now from the hurt, the betrayal, and because I was pissed off. I had never given him a reason not to trust me and yet with one word everything had changed. He left me there crying and angry and I knew it would be days before he even spoke to me again. Our relationship would be forever changed because of this one word. The hypocrisy of the situation was just overwhelming. He could treat me like the big bad wolf, but he could not deny my children were innocent. My Lilith, or Lily as I called her, knew nothing about why she could see and communicate with the dead. I had heard her many times telling him she didn't know why she could see him. Then my Gabriel, or Gabe as I called him, didn't even like to acknowledge that there was a ghost in the room much less try to communicate with one. I knew why he was angry, hell I would be too had I just found out my friend was similar to the very thing that cursed me, but you can't let one bad apple sour the bunch.

Weeks went by, and still, he didn't speak to me or even appear to me. Cordelia was now confined to the basement but not from my dreams. She now had leverage and gave me such terrible nightmares. Sometimes she would kill me and torment my children and sometimes it would be reversed. Her favorite however was to give me Michael, let me love him, and then take him away. I had no idea why this one bothered me more than the others. He was just a friend, you can't fall in love with a ghost right? After 6 weeks of waiting and being tormented, I awoke to Michael sitting next to me crying. I didn't know a ghost could cry.

"Why are you crying, Michael? It is not you, she is tormenting. Why must we fight all the time? Can't you just listen to me and try to understand what I am going through, I am not your enemy."

"I am so sorry Freya, I truly am. Had I but known what she was doing, what you were going through, I could have done something. Yet you endured for 6 weeks without saying a word."

"She wants you to care, she wants to make this nightmare a reality. That is why she allowed you to have the answer to your curse. It will bring her back too, then she can complete her curse. I can't fall in love with you or she gets her revenge."

Now I was crying too because I knew he cared for me and we could never follow through with those emotions. He reached out to comfort me because it was what his heart wanted to do. Never, in a million years did either one of us think we would be able to touch. However, even though his hand went through mine, I could somewhat feel it. Disappointed, he went to take it away, but I stopped him.

"Don't, please. It may not be a physical touch but I can feel it and it comforts me."

For 10 minutes we sat there, with no words exchanged, just a simple comfort of touching but not touching. Thus began the unusual, but nice sensation of him "tapping" my shoulder whenever he wanted to get my attention. Cordelia still plagued my sleep, but he could now wake me with a "touch". However, I couldn't help but feel that this was a step towards giving her exactly what she wanted. School started again and the children spent more time with friends than in the house. I couldn't blame them, with Cordelia worming her way into their dreams. Michael quit waking me to watch over the children, I was saddened but glad he was caring for them. I finally decided that I needed to go back to the crystal shop. Michael could barely appear anymore and I was losing hope. My mother agreed for the children's safety and my sanity to care for the children while I found a way to fix my home. I took the time off and began my journey back to Angelique's shop.