Beyond The Lost

3

Upon arriving home, I already feel a sense of bad luck. The door is wide open but the barrier of salt before it hasn't been broken.

I carefully walked inside, closing the door behind me and checking for anything out of place.

Whoever came in must've left. I sigh and head to my bedroom, still neglecting to find a single item missing.

The bad luck remains as I sit on the bed, staring forward in annoyance. "If you're still in my house, please leave."

With no response, I stood up and yanked open the door of my closet. A man in all black sat, crouched down with his arms over his head.

"Get out of my house."

"Oh' Thank goodness you're back!" He laughed softly, slowly standing up, towering over me. I felt unrecognizably small. "I need your help."

"You picked the wrong way to ask. Get out."

"No, no, no! Please listen!" He gently grabbed both of my hands, crouching down on one knee and leaning his head against my knuckles. "You're the first person I've found that might actually be able to help me."

"I don't care. I've got my own problems to deal with and dare I remind you that you broke into my home?"

"You're a witch, aren't you?"

"I am not."

He looked up at me, puzzled. "You can't lie. I've seen the markings all over the house. I've seen the salt at the door."

"I'm not the kind you're imagining." I pulled my hands away and stepped back. "You must be looking for someone to cast a spell for you. Must be a nasty one if you went to this much trouble."

"Yes but-"

"I don't do curses, I don't inconvenience people with magick, and I won't cause anyone harm."

"I don't ask these things of you." He looks down again.

"Then what do you want and how did you get in here? Not only that but...how did you even find me?"

"You forgot to lock the door and people talk. I need you to fix me."

"Fix you?"

"I'm haunted. I want these ghosts to go away."

I don't believe I've ever sighed heavier than I did then. "I can't fix a medium. Don't think of your gift as a curse and don't call them ghosts, most of them find it offensive."

"But I- it's not like that! I'm not a medium!"

"Enjoy trying to convince yourself of that as soon as you leave."

"You have to help me. I don't want to see these things."

"That's not my problem. Now get out."

"But I thought witches were kind. How can you be so cruel?"

I'd never met anyone with a kind outlook on witches. I'd never even considered myself one until the town started talking about my cautious habits. My heart slowly began to melt after hearing such sweet words. His eyes no longer seem dark and unwelcoming. "Okay."

His head perks up. "Okay?"

"Yeah. I'll help you. Get up."

He makes no move to stand and instead looks up at me, doe-eyed with a heart of sadness leaping from his chest. Somehow, he manages a smile. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me just yet. I still have to figure out how to help you."

He jumped to his feet, unable to stand straight due to his height and my low ceiling. He hunched over, arms dangling past his knees. "I actually have a question as well."

"A question or a favor?"

"Why have you trapped such anger in your home?"

I stopped for a moment, carefully stepping over a small broken part of my floor and continuing into my kitchen. He followed close behind. "Are you talking about my mother?"

"That woman is your mother?" He picked at his fingers, bouncing anxiously in place.

"Yes."

"Why is she so angry?"

I pulled a few small jars from my lower cabinet. "I don't know. She wouldn't leave no matter what, and I thought it'd be safer to keep her in and everything else out."

"...what're you doing." He leaned over my shoulder as I sealed the top of my spell with candle wax and placed the tiny bottle in his hand.

"Put this on the door of your bedroom." I then grabbed a slip of paper and scribbled a sigil on it. It took a moment due to the complexity of each line. "And this under your pillow. It may not get rid of what you're seeing but at the very least it'll keep a distance."

"Oh...thank you. Will you walk me home though?"

"For what?"

"Just-...Please?"