The Witch Chronicles (LGBT+)

Evil has a face

Tragedy.

It's only fitting that I learn true tragedy. I just wish it wasn't like this. I'd known very little about tragedy before the death of my Granny but I am sure I know so much now.

Grandmother was the kindest, warmest woman I've ever met. She didn't deserve to die like she did.

No one does.

I don't remember much after finding her. The EMTs and my parents told me that I had already been screaming and sobbing when they got there. They told me that I didn't want anyone to touch her. My parents tell me that I still scream in my sleep.

I know I wake up in cold sweat often, unable to get her face out of my head.

A week has passed and life has once again crept forward, bringing me into this exact predicament. The guidance counselor came to my parents and they all decided I should see her for a while. Nora Laureen, our new guidance counselor, had gone above and beyond for me.

I often wonder why she's a guidance counselor and not some kind of model, or at least a trophy wife. Half the guys in school share the same sentiment. Nora is particularly pale with dark, cascading auburn hair. She occasionally wears a pair of grey stylized spectacles and always wears a very sultry red lipstick. Of course, she is thin. Isn't everyone these days? She also has surprisingly bright turquoise eyes.

I hate to be that guy but she always wears something on the verge of being too sexual for school. It's always just tasteful enough that no one can say much about it.

"Perry" Her voice is soft but commanding. I always feel like there's something just below the surface of her veneer. As if her sultry lipstick didn't stop at her lips. She seems to always stare at me with curiosity. She quickly says, "You said that you are coping. I said that it was a tragedy and it's understandable for you to feel any way you feel. You immediately went quiet."

I shift in my seat.

"It's been a week since you returned to your and found your Grandmother. How, exactly, are you coping?"

"Witchcraft, of course." I joke with a smirk. Her eyebrow raises at the joke and I chuckle, "I am, of course, kidding.

"Of course you are. There is no such thing as witches." She says scribbling something down in her notes, "How is your home life? You said before that your Father returned home. You've stated that your Brother is also at home, correct?"

"Of course you are. There is no such thing as witches." She said scribbling something down in her notes, "How is your home life? I hear that your father and brother returned home."

"You've met my Father, do you think it affects me?" I ask.

She nods.

"Fine. It's nothing special, I guess?" I shake my head at her, "My Brother thinks he's my Father and my Father thinks he's the world greatest Dad. I don't have the heart to tell either of them that..." I stop and look up at her. She's watching me and I shake my head again, "Life goes on, right? I'm not harming myself or others, just dealing."

"I wanted to ask you before you go to class. I'll want to see you again, just to make sure you settle, alright?" Her voice always seems so concerned. I waver on my belief on it. She gives me a soft smile, "My door is always open. No matter what happens."

I hate that expression. It's not the first time I've heard that in two weeks. It's beginning to wear me down in the worst way.

I feel something scary from her. I feel the same danger I feel with Lucas. No, that's a lie, it's worse.

I smile and stand, "Thank you." I say as I all but run out of the office.

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