A RETELLING OF PRACTICAL MAGIC.
A 300-year-old family curse. A teenage witch with a broken heart. And a lone wolf determined to solve a missing person's case.
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For three hundred years, a witch family has endured a curse: any man an Owens girl d...
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Dear Mom,
Grief is a hole inside my heart that never stops deepening.
Many people say that Time is the greatest healer. But I find that the more time continues without you and Dad, the more this void becomes an ache that can't be quenched.
There is this dream that haunts me. And in it, I am whole and happy. A dark-haired fellow, whose face remains a mystery, loves me with such purity. It fills my heart with hope. The family curse cannot touch me there. But then I wake up.
Sometimes when there is a full moon and the winter night is bone-cold, I lie awake and burn. The grief tears me in two. Losing you and Dad broke my childhood. Losing Michael broke my future.
Magic pulses underneath my skin, begging to be spent. Yet I continue to suppress it, punishing myself, adding to the fire. It's never enough. I always want to burn more, to hurt until the end of myself. That peace never comes, though.
Maybe I just want someone to love me—to see me. Actually, I just want to be whole again. Except, that's never going to happen. I've already had my happiness with Michael and now he's gone. I don't want to believe that, but it's the only way I can move on.
Still, just like the stars, the burning has to find its end one day, right?
