My Witch

CH-2 FOLKS STORYS

I am sitting by the window; it must be around 2:00 AM. My room is dimly lit, and I'm naked under my shawl. There's an annoying pimple on my face that I refused to treat with my mom's home remedies because the last time I did, it resulted in two more pimples in the same spot.

I've rested my head against the window pane. My bed is strangely positioned, and I've just put up a new poster of my favorite singer, Michael, on the wall.

I'm contemplating my luck. It's been so disappointing. I met my dad briefly, but he left quickly. My mom, well, she's in depression, but she never shows it. I've caught her taking those pills a few times, but I've stopped talking to her about it. I'm pretty miserable myself. I can make some selfish noise, but that's where I'm at. It's been two or three days, and I still haven't made any friends at school. I tried to befriend a girl, but when I approached her, she was crying. I couldn't see what she was writing on her paper, but I'll ask her about it later. I'm in the 12th grade, studying subjects like economics, geography, history, agriculture, and psychology, but my favorites are economics and political science.

Then, the thought of that Boy, Harry, crossed my mind. I hadn't asked for her last name because our conversation had only lasted for about 10-15 minutes. Just then, I saw birds flying outside.

My eyelids started to feel heavy, and I realized I was getting sleepy. I managed to lie down on the bed somehow, closed my eyes, and fell asleep.

My sleep was abruptly interrupted when I found myself in a dream, chasing a boy who kept calling me "destiny."

I woke up and, in a rush, saw myself in the mirror. I appeared as a woman who seemed to be perpetually drinking alcohol, at least that's how it felt. But, at least I wasn't actually drinking. Afterward, I went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, washed my face, and tended to some personal tasks.

During this time, I could hear the sounds of someone in the kitchen, perhaps chopping vegetables and moving around. As I stepped out of the bathroom, I could see the stairs leading downstairs. I descended and arrived in the hallway, and as I proceeded forward, I could hear the clinking sounds of someone preparing a meal. I approached quietly, and there was my mother, her back to me, slicing something. I took a seat at the dining table.

"Mom, please, hurry up with breakfast; I need to get to school quickly," I said because there was going to be a talk on the history of this town at our school today, and I didn't want to miss that class at all.

"Dear, wake up quickly," my mom replied, but I couldn't help feeling a bit annoyed when she used the term "dear."

"Alright, sorry, Mum."

"Okay."

Then, after a while, she handed me a sandwich with jam. Was she treating me like a little child? I used to think that every time I saw this.

I had my meal, changed into my school uniform, and then said goodbye to my mom before heading out. As I left the house, I observed my neighborhood. There was an uncle walking his dog, an aunt drying clothes, and another uncle was having an argument with an older woman.

I stepped out onto the street in front of my house. Today, the road looked different, lined with trees and greenery, and the houses seemed nicer. I walked ahead and found a taxi. The fare was a bit high, but I decided to compromise. Afterward, I made it to school.

I reached school and entered the Arts building. The room was quite spacious with several desks. The chairs were like those you'd find in an office, and the room had a pristine white interior with a wooden door. As I walked in, some girls noticed me and offered smiles, a few made faces, and others simply didn't acknowledge me.