Young Witch and Her Pub

Emma Morris, the owner of a tiny little pub on a bleak corner of Iris Street, was the lone wolf of all time. Her pub never opened at day or night. Yet she seemed quite busy. People of Ron Lake always saw her hurry by as if she was going to be late. That was odd. Because, as one of the most popular pedestrian streets, and the only street with cafés, bars, and clubs in Ron Lake, Iris was high schoolers' favorite place to fill up their time on weekends. Buying a coffee shop and left it there. That didn't make any sense. The residents of Iris didn't realize that Emma was actually a workaholic. The only difference between her and other owners is their clients. Emma served nonhumans. Emma Morris was a witch living in Iris, earning her living by running an unimpressive pub called "The Last Station", dispelling the obsessiveness of decedents. She was a sixteen-year-old girl, with long, black hair straggled around her shoulders. Her calm black eyes were always hidden behind her lashes. At first glance, she was nothing but a quiet, shy girl. Our story starts on a cloudless Wednesday in the middle of summer. The shining sun, warming wind, and nothing of the day suggested that something mysterious and unusual was upcoming. Emma got up, finished her breakfast, and tore a page from the wall calendar hanging in the second-floor living room. She put on a khaki shirt with a light tan, shuffled down the stairs, to the ground floor where it was renovated into a cozy pub. The cuckoo clock on the wall chimed, it was half past six in the morning. Though the people of Iris were still asleep in their beds, visitors rang the bell of "The Last Station". Emma was standing at the counter, cleaning her glass on the rack. She didn't raise her head when she heard the visitor come towards her until the visitor stopped in front of the counter. Putting a glass of cold milk on the counter, Emma smiled at her visitor with a perfectly polite smile. "Good morning dear, it's a nice day, isn't it?" It is the first time Emma had even seen her. The visitor was a thin, blond-haired girl. She had a pair of green eyes that were big, like the eyes of a cowish deer. She was nothing different from any other teenage girl, except her whole body was fully transparent, like people in black-and-white photographs. She was a ghost, a ghost who died recently. Emma knew that for sure. The visitor did not say anything, not even say hello in reply. Her eyes fixed on her feet. A few minutes later, she spoke, but her voice was very low and slight, so slight that Emma barely heard her words. "I've heard that you helped with the death." She said, playing with her fingers. "That's true." Emma answered, picking up the cup and pouring the milk into a pot on the fire, heating it. "How may I help you?" The words seemed to break the ice in the room, and the visitor started talking. "My name is Anna Nelson." She said, still playing with her fingers. "I lived with my sister, who is one year younger than I, in Katy Street." "She has recently broken up with a boy, and ... ... she is very depressed. Could you help her to overcome those gloomy affairs? I will do everything I can in exchange." When Anna spoke the last sentence, the introverted girl raised her eyes for the first time since she came into "The Last Station", looking into Emma's eyes sincerely. Emma was surprised that this girl came in for a family member instead of herself. Ghosts were people who had strong goals or obsessiveness. They are so itchy to do those things that as time passes, they lose the ability to think rationally, they lose their memory of friends and family, and at last, they forget who they were. This girl, who cared so much about her sister, was a rare-seeing ghost because those who strive for others instead of themselves are not as likely to become a ghost as those who strive for themselves. Emma was very curious about the reason behind this request. She had a presentiment, that there must be a very interesting story behind it. And she loved the story. But surprisingly, her client refused to offer the story. "My story doesn't matter. As long as my sister is safe, I have nothing to worry about." Emma raised her eyebrows, not saying anything. She turned off the fire of the pot holder and asked politely. "You do realize that I can't be with your sister forever, don't you?" Ignoring the confusing look on that face, Emma kept talking. "Our contract is time-limited, I can keep your sister safe as long as the contract is valid, but when it is overdue .... ....." The face of Anna turned from pale into cavernous, now she no longer looked like the ghost of Hallowmas, but the ghost of Hell instead. The transparent face was stained green, and there was a dangerous light shining in her eyes. Emma caught the anomaly. Steadily, she grabbed the glass cup, poured the boiled milk from the pot, and splashed the seething milk right on the face of the ghost. "Ahhhhhhhhhh!" Anna screeched, the ghost feebly kneeling on the floor. Her hands covered her face, and she screamed in pain. The ear-splitting scream didn't cause Emma any trouble, she knew that the living couldn't hear anything from the death. But those screams scared the ravens outside the window, their loud, raucity caw disrupted the dreams of citizens next door. But that has nothing to do with Emma, nobody gets up at five o'clock just to shout at ravens. She cleaned up the glass at an unhurried pace and waited for her visitor to calm herself down. After a few minutes, the screams and cries slowly disappeared. When Emma once again saw that familiar face of Anna got into her sight, she keenly noticed the color of the ghost's body became dimmer. "You don't have much time left. Better make your decision quickly. " Though Anna's whole body became dimmer, her mind was in the clearest state since she died. She looked at the pub owner standing behind the counter, and she knew the agreement would inevitably be time-limited. But that doesn't mean she has nothing to do. "So how long can it last? " She wanted to know where the line was. "Twelve months." Emma seemed to see her through. "Time limit won't be lengthened or changed, but I will teach your sister how to live by herself." "Have anything to add on?" A big, relieved smile appeared on Anna's pale, dim face after she heard Emma's promise. "Thank you. " "So, where is the agreement?" Anna immediately felt like she had asked a superfluous question, because a golden string flowed from her heart, into the cup which used to hold milk. She couldn't move her eyes off that string. The long, shining string is beautiful, and for some unknown reason, familiar. "Why are you so surprised? I thought you knew what the price was." Emma Morris and her pub were both well-known among the dead and nonhuman. Literally, visitors can get anything they want, as long as they can pay the price, and the most common price is called "The Core". The core is everything to the dead and the nonhuman, so unless there is no other way, nobody would visit the pub. That is also the reason why this pub is called "The Last Station". "I know, I just don't know ... ...." She didn't get a chance to finish her words. As the string left Anna's body, it took the core energy of her soul to pay for this trade. That's the reason why she's gone. She just can't exist without core energy. Emma picked up the glass, it was now full of sparkling strings broken into lines. She held the glass under her nose and took a deep breath. "Ah, lovely! " And drank the whole with one draft. "Never have enough." Emma had to admit that golden strings were always so tasty that nobody could verbally describe their flavor. But sadly, great times are always rare. She has to dive into her work now.