A Witch's Confession

14

We strode down the bustling city sidewalks, unaware of the attention we were drawing to ourselves. My mother and I still wore our colorful cloaks draped in intricate accents, mine in a shade of sea-glass blue and hers in an vibrant emerald green. Kessem and I looked like we were prepared to go camping for weeks, and my parents could pass for a mystical, gothic older couple. So to be quite frank, people were constantly glancing our small group questionable looks. The looks didn't bother me much. In fact, I found myself to be quite amused at the attention we were gathering. I could tell the passerby's who were witches, as they would appear more concerned than surprised. Witches only wore their cloaks when they were purposely hiding their magic.

An undiscovered fiery side began to ooze out from my mother's normally calm demeanor. "What are you all looking at?" She snapped at the passerby gawking. They rushed into a nearby store, avoiding eye contact with my mom. Unlike myself, she was not finding amusement in the multiple spectators.

"Rene," my father spoke as he nudged her side. "What is going on with you?" She grabbed my father's arm and shoved him off of her.

"Don't talk to me like that, Clark. You know you can't control a witch." My father's jaw tensed at her use of witch. She blinked again, returning to her reserved expression. She rubbed her temples before heaving out a heavy sigh. "I've got the worst headache, one even my tinctures cannot defeat. It's only getting worse." She groaned. I furrowed my brow at her change of personality and the sudden onset of a throbbing headache.

Her tinctures were very useful in ailments like a headache, so something felt extremely weird about that one. My father and I exchanged highly confused looks, though we continued our determined strides throughout the streets Boston. I had to focus on the task at hand: finding Sybil's journal, no matter what it took.

My mother's hand latched on to the side of my father's dark sleeve, causing him to stumble backwards.

He whipped his head around to her striking blue eyes. "Where did you say your grandmother lived?" She thumbed across her phone screen, searching the map. His eyes scanned the surrounding area, searching for nearby street signs. Multitudes of people slowly passed by us before he was done analyzing the area.

"We will need to take a bus. She lived quite a ways that direction." He pointed towards a thick neighborhood. The trees loomed an eerie sensation that cascaded down the street, hitting us all. We fell silent, wondering what difficult path might lie ahead.

I leaned up against the sign for the bus stop. I glanced at my watch, and chewed on the side of my cheek. My nerves were beginning to twinge in my stomach, but I tried to pay no attention to it. How would Sybil be in this situation? She would have been brave, I thought to myself.

I twirled a piece of my hair around my fingertip waiting in anticipation for the bus to finally arrive, though the fear of failure held a steady place in the back of my mind. Kessem put his arm on my shoulder and gave me a reassuring smile.

I shrugged and scooted closer to him. "We will get it back." He whispered to me. I continued to anxiously chew on my cheek, hoping he was right and that we would indeed be able to retrieve it. Reunite the Coven, reunite the Coven, I repeated to myself in my mind.

Soon the bus came around the corner and to a screeching halt. After a few moments, the creaky doors abruptly swung open. People were lined up at the exit, waiting to get off the bus and get on with their days.

We ushered ourselves onto the bus, after being yelled at by the rambunctious bus driver. "What are you, vampires?" The bus driver joked.

I snickered. "No, just witches." A thin smile curled across my lips as I heard Kessem stifle a laugh. My parents shot me a sharp look, and I shrugged it off. As if the bus driver would actually believe my words!