Hex

* S I X *

©  Amber Kalkes 2015

Song--------------}

"20th Century Boy" By T. Rex

*S I X *

Mumbling to myself I run my finger under the line of directions. Brandon is sitting across from me at the little table, watching my every move like it’s a life or death chess game. I’m trying really hard to ignore his eyes but it’s really hard. It’s like knowing you shouldn’t push a button but you know its there and you really want to push it. That’s how agitating it is.

Finally I snap. “What?”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m mixing something up to get that wolfsbane out of you.”

He tilts his head to the side. “Why?”

I frown. “What do you mean why? Don’t you want to feel your wolf?”

“I can feel him.”

I stop ripping apart the milkweed to raise my eyebrows at him. “You can feel your wolf? How?”

“He’s faint but he’s here.”

“Well that’s good…I guess.” I say slowly before shaking my head. “Better to get it out now though, just in case. That much in your blood stream has to be uncomfortable.”

“Not really.”

Putting down the whole milk I’ll be mixing the herbs with I drop my head. With a sigh and a quick prayer for patience I lift my head to look at the obviously amused Brandon. “What do you mean ‘not really’?”

“It’s just like being a normal human man, like I was before my first shift.”

Deciding to continue on with this and just save it for when Mr. Crazy bird decides to get it over with, I go back to the task at hand. Though, admittedly he has peaked my curiosity. “So when did you first shift?”

“Twelve.” He says before leaning back in his chair.

My hands stop grinding the basil with the stone pestle in my hand to look up at him. He has a far away look in his eyes that has me wondering where exactly he’s gone. Clearing my throat I see him flinch a little before I start crushing the green leafs again.

“That’s young.”

“Its typical for most wolves to turn at puberty.”

“Still.” I sigh. “That’s gotta be hard.”

“Why? When did you know you were a witch?”

I peek up at him to see him looking actually interested. Frowning a bit I try to focus on what I’m doing instead of the stupid churn in my stomach. Trying to play it off I shrug.

“For me I didn’t realize anything was wrong until I was about seven. I was playing outside and I saw a frog on the dirt road nearby. It had been run over by a truck. I picked it up and wished really hard that it was alive again. When I felt it move again I gave it to my mom as a gift because I thought I’d done a good thing.”

“But she didn’t think so?”

I let out a bitter laugh. “Are you kidding? She said I was lying and that god wouldn’t work such a miracle through such a disrespectful child’s hands.”

“You were disrespectful?”

“I guess.” I shrug. “I knew I was adopted. I mean it is pretty obvious, my parents being white as snow and me being darker skinned. Besides they never hid the fact, they liked to brag about it in church. I was there special little child they saved from a life of hedonism or some shit. Obviously you can see how that worked out.”