The sun was shining bright through Ruba’s bedroom window; making her chandelier glisten and everything else sparkle.
Bleep, bleep.
She slammed her hand against the alarm, cursing. There was a headache spreading itself across her brain and she was in no mood for it’s irritating whine. Rubbing her temples in circular motions, she closed her eyes and pictured the dream she’d dreamt the previous night.
She didn’t want to remember.
She made a move to get out of bed; then her muscles froze and she flopped back down again.
“Naomi…”
Naomi was standing in front of her; white, emotionless, staring at her as if she were a corpse.
No, she wasn’t real.
Ruba squeezed her eyes shut,
No real, not real, not real.
She opened them again in a flash and the ghost was gone. Either it was her imagination – or she’d summoned her without thinking.
“What the…?”
She shook her head and started for the bathroom.
* * *
She started plaiting her hair as she walked downstairs and into the kitchen; only to find a note taped to the refrigerator door
‘Morning darling. Sorry I’m not home. Got a phone call from work and had to leave ASAP! Don’t forget it’s Wednesday and I’ll be back late. See you after school xxx’
Great.
She made herself a bowl of cereal and –though it had no taste – did her best to swallow it down. It was dry despite being smothered in milk and stuck like glue to the inside of her throat. She almost choked as a bang came from nowhere. She froze a moment, but no sound followed it. Shrugging it off, she washed up her dishes and started getting ready to leave.
BANG!
She heard it again, but this time it was coming from the kitchen. She turned her head rapidly and squinted her eyes towards the kitchen, only to catch a glimpse as someone passed through.
Mum’s not home.
Her heart was pounding fast.
It’s my imagination.
She approached the kitchen with small steps, the silence of the house frightening her, but also providing a comfort. At the arch of the kitchen door, she craned her head around and saw Naomi; walking about in the kitchen, a ghost.
Die.
Ruba rapidly snatched her head back and stood on the side of the kitchen wall outside, gathering the limited breath she had to take another look.
Naomi was gone. Disappeared.
Was she really there at all?
Ruba headed towards her front door and grabbed her back pack. What the hell was going on?
* * *
“Sorry Ruba. But I don’t know what’s happening to you.” Michael claimed disappointedly.
“But, I need to know. I saw her in my room and in the kitchen…”
“Maybe it’s a sign?” Willow suggested.
YOU ARE READING
BeWitched
Teen FictionA brush with the paranormal takes Ruba to opportunities that she never thought she would accomplish. As Ruba is growing up and figuring her self out, she's sure that witchcraft is her thing. Not only is she practicing witchcraft, but she also practi...
