The Magick Shop Place

Chapter 2: Lily- Present Day

LILY

My thoughts are running rapidly since my latest visitor entered the shop today. She reminded me of myself from a time that felt like so long ago. Back in High Scool there were good days, but also a lot of poor decision making. We always feel so grown up in our teens. “I’m the oldest I’ve ever been!” A joyous boast I used often. We laughed stupidly back then. I was always dressing in boys’ clothes. So, although I wore the size Small in girl’s shirt, I wore baggy pants, oversized men crewnecks and novelty t-shirts. There was also quite a collection of XL men’s pullover hoodies in my closet. Not a trace of make-up, or knowledge of how to put it on. I admit I had a smooth, perfect complexion, which was the only feature I felt comfortable bragging about. Even though I was a pretty girl, I covered my flawless figure most often in boys’ clothes. I hated to be stared at, especially by gross boys who speak out of turn in class. Their s*x-infested brains made me sick; I wanted romance. Which is something the boys were incapable of offering me.

Being an only child, with a few choice girlfriends, I was incredibly lonely. I mentally picked myself apart and was heavily insecure. I was like a shaky leaf among blossoming and perky teenaged girls. They seemed to have so much more confidence than I did. Over time I admit we did discover more friends to branch out in our circle. And the more boys who joined our group, the more I wanted to wear guys clothes to cover my figure.

My dad was gone after the divorce was final. So, I was being raised by an amazing mom all by herself. But she worked, and now worked overtime to keep the house and keep us fed. We lived in a suburban area, but most parts were becoming sketchier as time went on.

At the time I hated my father, he was unpredictable when I was little, I never knew which version of him I was going to see. When I was in elementary school walking home, if I saw his car in the driveway, a pit dropped at the bottom of my stomach. Was I about to say hello to Dr. Jeckle or Mr. Hyde?

“Hey Dad, want to see this picture I drew?” I was extremely proud of it; I was 8 years old and making progress on drawing horses. I held it up to show him my latest piece, it was a unicorn head with a rainbow mane. “You know unicorns aren’t real right?” That’s all he said to me. I can’t even recall him telling me if he liked it or not.

When he left, at first, I was grateful for the change, although there were times that I couldn’t help but miss my dad. As time went on, I found myself going to church more frequently. If I can’t reach out to my own father, at least The Father, God, was listening to me. Cynthia’s my best friend, and I would meet halfway between our houses and then walk the rest of the way together. There were times we would ride bikes there, other times on roller blades. We were growing up in the 90s, back when roller blades were considered cool, and felt safe playing outside. As a couple of misfits going to youth group, it seemed we were increasingly disliked by the other kids. We simply didn’t fit their mold of “Good Christian Kids.”

Cynthia was tough and the sassiest of the two of us. Personally, I was passive aggressive and a complete smart ass. We laughed when it was inappropriate, we questioned the bible in groups, used curse words and were constant interruptions. The more we felt unwelcome by the church, the more our interests went in a different direction. Witchcraft had always fascinated us, our moral failure in youth group only helped us leave the church and pursue our true interests in belief systems.

Cynthia and I had created a sacred place in the shed in my backyard. It was dilapidated, falling apart and the doors hardly worked. But it is where we read my book of shadows, lit candles and played with fire. The smell of the candles smoke after extinguishing the flame was such a lovely aroma too. We felt close to nature, felt like we had a deeper understanding and connection about the things and people around us. Magick gave us peace.

You see, in 2nd and 3rd grade my friend Ashley and I were best friends, we both loved art, we were slightly awkward to other kids, but we understood each other. We had sleepovers and binge watched anime on VHS. But when Cynthia transferred to our school, the day we met we were instantly friends. That afternoon she invited me to her house; she only lived a couple blocks away from mine. It turned out we had a very similar family background. We were both adopted by our grandparents with birth parents who were young and made poor choices. Giving us up was by far the best decision our parents made. Back then I came up with a saying that we were both branded with the title “Abandonment Issues.” It rung so true even in relationships, I would rather break up or leave first, because being left behind was utterly painful. Which is one of the big reasons I’m not with anyone now. Yes, I would love to be married to a man who I knew was my soulmate. But honestly, the only one that fills my heart is my Jinn, named Sydney.