BEYOND THE BARRIER

Morning Turbulence

The hallway outside the training room felt warmer, but Lisa still couldn’t shake off the heaviness clinging to her chest because of her failed practice earlier.

As her granny walked ahead, she couldn’t help but admire her posture. For a seventy-year-old woman, she hadn’t aged at all, which wasn’t surprising because Granny Holly had always taken her diet seriously for as long as Lisa could remember.

“Katherine, if you don’t stop eating junk food, you’ll be needing artificial teeth sooner than you think.”

A small smile tugged at Lisa’s lips as she remembered how Granny Holly would always chastise her mother whenever she ate her favourite snack, chocolate cake.

“Sweet things are the joy of life, Mother,” her mother would always reply with a grin.

The smile on Lisa’s face slowly faded as she remembered how shattered Granny Holly had been after losing her second child, especially after losing her son just a year earlier.

“Oh… sorry, Granny. I didn’t notice you,” Lisa said, startled when she nearly walked into her.

“It’s alright, Lisa,” Granny Holly said calmly as she studied her from beneath the rim of her glasses. Her sharp eyes scanned Lisa carefully before she finally spoke.

“You seem distracted today.”

Lisa forced a small laugh.

“I’m fine, Granny. Don’t worry.”

“Mm…” Granny hummed. “Is there anything to worry about?”

Lisa blinked, taken aback by the question.

“What? No, Granny. There’s nothing to worry about,” she said a little too quickly.

Holly’s gaze lingered on Lisa for what felt like a minute before she finally spoke.“Your energy felt unstable earlier.”

She paused briefly.

“You haven’t been using your powers illegally, have you?” she added.

In the Melissa family, the misuse of power was never treated as simple disobedience. It was corruption, a stain. Something that didn’t just break rules, but tainted bloodlines as well.

Lisa’s thoughts drifted, unwillingly, to her Aunt Arlene.

One reckless spell, just one moment of poor judgment was all it had taken for her powers to disappear and for her name to be spoken in hushed tones throughout the house, even after she had been quietly removed from the family estate.

“What?… No,” Lisa answered quickly. “Nothing like that…I’m just tired.”

Granny stared at her for a moment longer before she nodded and resumed walking.

Lisa exhaled softly in relief as they passed through the courtyard, entered the house, and made their way to the dining room.

Sunlight poured through the tall windows, spilling across polished silverware and half-finished glasses of juice scattered over the table. The room was already alive with soft chatter and laughter

Hallow giggled as Henrietta tickled her, her laughter filling the room while her mother watched with a quiet smile.

The rest of the family had already started eating, which was normal because Granny Holly had long told them not to wait for her on training days.

“Good morning, Granny. Good morning, Lisa,” they all greeted in unison.

“Good morning, my loves,” she replied warmly.

“Granny!” Hallow squealed as she wiggled out of her chair and ran to hug her legs.

“Oh, my little sunshine. Did you sleep well?” Granny asked as she lifted her into her arms.

Hallow giggled as Granny hugged her against her chest before setting her back down in her seat. Then, she moved toward her usual place at the head of the table

Lisa sat across from her.

“Where’s Melody?” she asked.

“In her room,” Merlotte answered. “I called her earlier. She said we should eat without her because she’s on a diet and is doing her morning exercise.”

Granny nodded, and they all continued eating.

Shortly after, the glass of juice in front of Lisa began to boil, causing the glass to tremble. Lisa looked at Hallow and noticed her eyes were fixed on it as she grinned.

“Halloween Marshal!” Lisa warned sharply.

Her tone wasn’t loud, but it instantly cut through the room.

With a small, controlled flick of her fingers, the glass stopped shaking and the juice cooled.

Hallow’s face immediately fell into an exaggerated pout.

“Lisa, she’s just a child. Let her have fun,” Merlotte said, barely looking up from her plate.

Lisa slowly turned toward her.

“Fun? She has already turned the house temperature into one of her toys, and now she’s playing with food, Merlotte,” Lisa said, slightly annoyed by Merlotte’s carelessness.

Merlotte finally looked up, her expression hardening immediately.

“She’s four.”

“And powerful,” Lisa replied firmly.

For a moment, tension stretched across the table as the two women stared at each other, each pair of eyes boring into the other’s.

When Granny noticed, she cleared her throat.

“Girls… not at the table. Now, let’s continue eating.”

They both knew better than to ignore her warning, so they remained quiet.

Merlotte looked away first and turned her attention back to Hallow.

“What did I say about using powers unnecessarily?” she asked calmly, softly stroking her hair.

“Don’t ussssse,” Hallow mumbled dramatically.

“So let’s not use them, okay?”

Hallow nodded obediently.

Then, the moment her mother looked away, she stuck her tongue out at Lisa.

Lisa scoffed softly under her breath.

Her niece might be playful, and there were days when Lisa allowed herself to see her as just a child, but not when magic was involved. This was one of those moments.

No Melissa witch was ever truly small, regardless of age. A four-year-old with powers could be just as dangerous as a twenty-year-old.

Across the table, Henry suddenly groaned.

Here it was…the part she hated most about breakfast.

Henry tantrum day.

“Why are there eggs on my plate again?”

Lisa sighed inwardly.

Okay. Today it was eggs. Simple.

Before she could answer, Henrietta spoke.

“Because you literally asked for eggs yesterday.”

“I changed my mind later, and I told Miss Lorraine. Besides, I wasn’t talking to you.”

Henrietta scoffed.

“Just like yesterday, when you suddenly decided you didn’t want fried chicken because it was oily? Or the day before, when you said you didn’t want orange juice but ended up drinking it anyway? You change your mind every five minutes.”

Henry immediately shot her a glare, and she returned it without hesitation.

Lisa closed her eyes briefly.

Soon, she would be left to deal with it because neither Granny Holly nor Merlotte liked interfering in the twins’ squabbles.

Holly had always had a soft spot for them. Henry looked exactly like her late husband, while Henrietta was the image of her late daughter, their mother. She had never said it aloud, but everyone knew, including the twins.

“Miss Lorraine,” Lisa called calmly.

As the twins continued arguing among themselves, she heard Henrietta call Henry inconsiderate, only for Henry to retaliate by calling her stupid.

“Go, Etta! Go, Etta!” Hallow cheered excitedly, she was always thrilled whenever this happened.

A tired sigh escaped Holly as she pushed back her chair and rose from the head of the table. Without a word, she left the dining room, the little girl squirmed in her mother’s arms, protesting fiercely as she was carried away, still cheering loudly for Henrietta.

A headache was already beginning to form behind Lisa temples.

“Yes, Miss Lisa?”

“Please prepare something else for Henry.”

Before Lorraine could respond, Henry suddenly brightened.

“I want what Henrietta is having.”

Henrietta blinked slowly.

“Excuse me?”

She turned sharply toward Lisa.

“I don’t want to eat the same thing as him. Tell him to eat what’s already on his plate.”

“Please, Henrietta,” Lisa said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “It’s still morning, and I’m already exhausted. Just let him have it.”

“No.”

There was no point arguing with Henrietta once she had made up her mind. She had inherited Granny Holly’s stubbornness, and everyone in the house knew it.

Quietly, Lisa signaled to Lorraine, hoping to end the matter before it spiraled into another argument.

But Henrietta noticed.

Before Lorraine could even take a step, an empty sofa chair from the adjacent sitting area scraped loudly across the floor and slid into place, completely blocking the doorway.

Henrietta leaned back in her seat, looking entirely pleased with herself.

“Witch,” Henry muttered bitterly.

Henrietta immediately snapped something back.

Lisa didn’t even bother listening anymore.

Within seconds, the twins were talking over each other, their voices rising until their words collided into one exhausting stream of noise.

Lisa closed her eyes for a brief moment.

Somehow, every breakfast eventually ended with her playing referee.

“Enough.”

Her voice echoed through the room with more force than she intended.

The burst of energy exploded outward before she could pull it back.

CRASH.

The flower vase at the center on the table shattered instantly, sending Henry stumbling backward in shock.

Henrietta reacted on instinct, snapping her hand upward to redirect the surge of magic. The force tore through the air instead of the room…racing up, where it struck the chandelier above them.

Glass trembled.

A sharp crack echoed overhead.

Then..

Silence.

Lisa drew in a sharp breath. “Are you alright?” she asked, though regret was already settling heavily in her chest.

Henry pushed himself upright slowly. When he looked up, his glare swept across the both of them.

“I hate witches,” he muttered coldly. “All of you.”

He took a step back, jaw clenched. “And I’m not going for martial training today.”

Before anyone could respond, he turned on his heel and stormed out. The front door slammed behind him with enough force to rattle the walls.

Henrietta rolled her eyes. Without a word, she took her school bag and followed after him.

Lisa exhaled and pressed a hand to her forehead, staring up at the cracked chandelier swaying slightly above the table.

“What a morning,” she muttered under her breath.

Then, louder, “I’m sorry, Miss Lorraine.”

The older woman let out a soft chuckle. “It’s quite alright, Lisa. Children will always be children.”

Lorraine bent carefully to gather the shattered glass while another housemaid hurried in with a broom. The quiet rhythm of cleaning slowly restored order to the dining room.

Lisa leaned back in her chair and pressed two fingers to her temple. A dull ache had already begun to form behind her eyes.

Too little sleep.

Too many problems.