Burned

Chapter Three

Mallory was walking home when she heard a loud curse word from a nearby garage. She peeked in, to make sure nobody was hurt, and heard some grunting and groaning. She started pushing the car off the man below it, summoning the wind to help her. When it finally rolled off, the man stood up. He held out a grimy hand."Thanks. Old Betty is pretty heavy I guess." He peered at her."What's your name?"

Mallory shook his hand and smiled. "Mal. Yours?"

"Gregory Keats. Nice to meet you young lady." As he finished his sentence a teenage boy ran into the garage.

"Dad. I'm so sorry I'm late. I was supposed to help you with Old Betty, but...." he trailed off when his eyes landed on Mal. He eyed her. Mal was sure she saw recognition flash in his eyes, before he held out a hand. "Hi. I'm Thane. What's your name?"

"Mal," she replied. She nodded to Gregory. " I better get on home Mr. Keats. Have a nice day." She waved as she walked out of the garage. Mr. Keats gazed at her thoughtfully.

He turned to his son, as soon as she was out of earshot. "Thane, do you know her?"

Thane nodded."I know who she is. She's in my science class. Why?"

Mr. Keats shook his head."Its nothing." He knew he couldn't say anything to his son, but his thoughts were churning. Mal was different. He could breathe in her aura like it was air. And there was no way she could've rolled the car off him like that unless- No that was impossible. All the witches were burned years ago. When he was a boy he had heard their screams through the woods. It was a well kept secret of course, that there ever were witches among the townspeople. It was one of those things that people didn't need to know, and preferred to be ignorant about. He sighed, and turned back to his work. She was something, something magical. Maybe she was something like him.

"Hey Dad." Mallory hugged him after she hung up her coat. "How was work today?"

He smiled at her tiredly. "It was good Mal. How was school?"

"Good. I have some homework, but I'll come back down before bed."

Her dad handed her a bag from Taco Bell. "Okay sweetie. Make sure you eat." She nodded and headed upstairs.

"About time you got back!" spoke a voice as she opened her door. Mal looked around, and then rolled her steel gray eyes.

"Let that which is hidden be seen, and that which is dirty be clean." She smiled as her room cleaned itself, and her grandma appeared."Grams, you gotta stop talking so loud as soon as I open my door. Dad might hear you, and then how am I going to explain the fact that I'm speaking with my dead grandmother?"

Grams sighed and sat on the window sill. "Honey, I'm not dead. Things happened, and yes my body died. But look at me. I am alive. My soul is alive. You're just one of the few who can see me."

Mal unwrapped her taco, and glanced up at her grandma. "We felt it today. The flames, I mean. All four of us felt them lick at our skin."

Grams sat up. "Someone was killed? Who?"

"I don't know yet. But as they flames licked at me, I felt this need to bring justice to the victim, and hell to the murderer." Mal tossed a wrapper into her trash can. "Is that normal?"

Grams looked at her. "I believe so. I felt it when my mother was killed. Just be careful my dear." She gave her granddaughter the best hug she could and smiled. "Well, I must be off, I have much business to attend to."

Mal sighed as her grandma disappeared. "What business could you possible have. You're dead."