His Dark Howl

The Girl in the Group Home

    Bria awoke as the rising sun sent the first beams of golden light glowing into her attic window. She felt a warmth spread through her, even though the air was cold in the attic room, this dreary early-spring morning. The golden sunlight was the same color, as those eyes… She shook her head, and rose from her bed. She needed to forget those eyes, it was only a dream. And yet, was a dream ever really just a dream? She was taught better than that.

    Bria thought of her grandmother then. The woman who raised her. A photograph of the two of them sat in a silver frame on her nightstand. It was the last remnant of the life that she had, before her grandmother passed. When it was just the two of them, living in the small, white house in a far away meadow. It felt like a fairy tale. It felt like an eternity ago.

    Bria’s grandmother, Ruby Cabot, her mother’s mother, had been a witch, as well. She was the one who taught Bria to call upon the Spirits of the Elements for guidance. She was the one who taught her about the magic in dreams, and the danger of them. Ruby saw the spark of magic inside of Bria the day she was born, the same day her mother died, and she spent the rest of her life nurturing and protecting it. “There is very little real magic left in this world, Bria. Everyone who senses it will want a piece of it for themselves. You must be very careful. You must protect what you have, and who you are.”

    Bria was moved into the Group Home when her grandmother died. She was only thirteen at the time. She was lucky enough to get a small attic room, all to herself. It was less luck, and more a persuasive charm that she has carried the day she arrived. A charm for what she needed the most, some protection and a little luck. She had gotten a safe space to nurture the magic that she concealed within her, an attic room that no one else bothered to enter, and some of the other teens in the group home swore was haunted. And so, in the attic, she practiced small spells. She called on flickers of flame to dance between her fingers, or small gusts of wind to blow flower petals through the air, until the whole room looked like a snow-shower.

    Over the past few years, most of the other teens came and went. But Bria stayed. She didn’t have any living relatives, and foster families were rare for teenagers. She was lonely at times, yes, but loneliness was necessary. She didn’t know who she could trust, if anyone at all, with the complete truth about who she was. She was a witch, and witches were rare. Witches were burned at stakes or hung from gallows, in times past. Her grandmother has been very clear about her place in the world. “We belong to the Earth herself, my darling. We have more in common with the trees in the forest, or the river that winds through it, than we do with humanity.”

    She dressed herself in practical clothes: dark leggings, tall boots with good soles, and a simple dress that allowed her body to move freely beneath it. A gray sweater the same color as her eyes, a worn leather satchel, and ear-buds completed her ensemble. She pulled a brush through her dark hair, and that was all. She didn’t have a complex beauty routine. She was practical, and had other things to worry about. Like surviving another day among the regular folk.

    The dining room was quiet. It was still quite early, and it was Saturday. Soon, the pajama-clad teens would be filing down, chatting and laughing over colorful bowls of sugar-laden cereal. She walked through the dining room to the kitchen, a smaller, brighter room, filled with the scent of hazelnut creamer. Katie, one of the weekend counselors, was sitting in the kitchen, sipping a cup of coffee.

    “Good-morning, Bria!” She patted a seat beside her. “Have a minute for a chat before you leave for work?” Katie was all about having chats. She was friendly enough, always had a smile, and had a way of listening that made you really feel heard. Bria avoided too many heart to hearts, but it was heart to resist a chat with Katie. Still, bubbly, blonde Katie would not understand the real Bria. How could she? Her grandmother had made it very clear, Bria had no one she could trust, not completely. The Bria whose secret life swirled with magic and shadows. But still, if she avoided any conversation, she would be looked at more closely, and she didn’t need that. Yes, that is why she talked to Katie. Not out of a connection or a friendship, but as part of her facade of normalcy.

    “I always have a minute for you, Katie! Besides, I need some breakfast before I leave.” Bria poured herself a glass of orange juice and grabbed a muffin from the bread box. She had baked the muffins with a couple of the other girls the day before, one of their house bonding activities. Banana-chip, and they were pretty delicious.

    “I’m really proud of the young woman you’re becoming, Bria.” Katie told her, taking a sip out of her mug. It was a large, pink ceramic mug with “World’s Best Sister” Emblazoned across it. Bria wondered what it would be like, to have a sister. To have a family at all. “You’ve been here so long,” Katie continued, “Margaret and I were talking about it just the other day. It’s like we really watched you grow up.” Margaret was the house director, an older woman with short cropped hair who spent the week at the house and her weekends volunteering at a local food pantry. Katie and Margaret were both truly good people, and Bria was lucky to have been placed in this Group Home.

    “Four years.” Bria whispered. She couldn’t believe it. Four years since her grandmother had died. Four years in that attic room, longing for a future that she couldn’t quite see. Waiting to be old enough to choose her own path in life.

    “Four years,” Katie agreed, “And you’ve really grown in that time. You help out the new kids, make them feel at home and show them the ropes. You are an A student at school, and with only a few months left until graduation, you’ve got the whole world open to you. You manage a weekend job, and chores around the house. I know its not easy, living here for so long, but you’ve really made the best of it.”

    “You all have been good to me.” Bria told her, “It hasn’t been the worst.” She didn’t tell her that she did what she needed to do, and said what she needed to say, to remain under the radar. She didn’t say that her weekend job was really just an excuse to get out, away from people two days a week. She smiled, and told Katie what she wanted to hear.

    “Well, I wanted to be the one to tell you, Bria.” Katie smiled suddenly, brighter than the kitchen’s yellow walls.

    “Tell me what?” Bria was puzzled. It wasn’t a holiday. Nothing worth celebrating had happened, that Bria knew of. Her birthday was still a couple weeks away.

    “You’ve been placed.” Katie grinned, and leaned in, hugging Bria to her. Bria was in shock. Had she heard Katie correctly? She had been placed?

    Katie must have sensed the question on Bria’s mind, because she pulled out of the hug, and grabbed Bria’s hands. “You have been placed in a home, a really good home with people who are really excited to have you.”

    “How?” Bria couldn’t understand how this had happened. “I just don’t understand, I’m aging out in a few months. It’s almost impossible…”

    “Almost, but not quite!” Katie told her, “We were approved, Bria. I’m going to be your foster mom. Well, one of your foster moms… If you’ll have me, that is.”

    Bria didn’t know what to say. Tears welled unbidden to the corners of her eyes. A family? After all this time? Katie wanted her? To take her home? Questions swirled in her mind, and she needed to know why.

    “You’re aging out in a few months, Bria.” Katie explained, sensing her questions. “I didn’t want you to go off into the world without a family. Once you graduate, and turn eighteen, that’s it. You’re on your own. But you don’t have to be. You’ve always been special to me, right from the day you walked through those doors. And your future is so bright. I want you to have a safety net, a family.”

    “A family.” Bria breathed. “I never thought…I never thought anyone would want me.” She had thought that she was okay with that. After all, who wanted to foster a teenage witch with attachment issues from being raised away from society for the first thirteen years of her life? That was baggage she couldn’t even discuss with the Group Home’s therapist.

    “And that way, after you turn eighteen, you still have a home. With Lara, my sisters and I, for as long as you need one.” Katie told her, “What do you think, Bria?” Lara was Katie’s long time partner, and Bria had met her many times over the years. Lara was quick to laugh and could make anyone feel important. She knew Katie and Lara had a big, refurbished Victorian home that they shared with Katie’s younger sisters, who weren’t much older than Bria, herself. Yes, maybe that would be a good place to be. She felt something tell her that their home was a safe place to be.

    Bria wasn’t prepared for the rush of emotion that overwhelmed her as she reached her arms around Katie’s neck, and gave her a hug. Katie laughed, and hugged her back, “So that is a yes, I take it?”

    “Yes, Katie.” Bria smiled. For a moment, all her trepidation vanished. Maybe there was a home for her. Maybe, in this strange world of normal people doing normal things, even an orphaned teen witch could find a place to call her own.