The Witches on BellaRow Street

1. Absolutely No Magic!

*:･ﾟ･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ

"Is he dead?"

It's officially Mardi Gras weekend in New Orleans or—as the locals call it—Nawlins. And I'm supposed to be eating deep-fried beignets, collecting colorful beads, and dancing the night away with my 'on-again, off-again' boyfriend, Zion, but here I am, overlooking a dead body with my sisters.

Yes, that's right—dead.

One by one, my three sisters lean in, glancing over his lifeless body, and analyzing it before answering.

"Yeah, I think he's dead..."

"What?! No! You—No, no, no, no!"

"Shit."

The alleged victim remains nameless for fear of his spirit following us back home. But his pitch-black hair mimics the night sky, his pale skin is translucent like the streetlight buzzing down the block, and the alleyway we're in is secluded, dim, and dirty—like him.

Compared to all the dead bodies I've seen, this one has a trace of dark magic, aka Zetish magic. The body is contorted in an irregular pose as if someone yanked out his spine and left him for dead. And to add insult to injury, I think he deserved it.

I shouldn't say that out loud, but the way blood drips from his mouth makes me nauseous. I would've fainted had it not been for my sister losing her mind.

"Is he dead-dead?! Oh my god! Oh. My. God!"

"Look, we all need to calm down and think."

Yes, think. Think about how did four Witches end up in the back of a run-down alley with a stranger. Even now, as I reflect on my life and everything good I've done, I cant stop thinking about my karma, our karma. Is she ready to collect our debt?

"Calm down?! I should be planning my freaking wedding! But no, let's go out, Fay. It'll be fun, Fay."

That's Faylayee. She's my scared and timid 'sister' standing at the head of the assailant. And let's just say, she's not the person you call when you're trying to get rid of a dead body.

"You didn't have a problem taking the first tequila shot." My other sister, Junie, whose dry-humored comment remains undefeated even in the middle of a crisis, stands at the feet of the victim. I can't read her mind, but I can tell she's wrestling with some inner demons even I can't slay.

We all are.

"Oh. My. God." Faylayee lips trembles, ignoring Junie's sarcastic remark. "That's it. They're gonna burn us!"

I want to speak up and tell her it's not Salem or the sixteen hundreds, but my entire body feels frozen, trapped, and stuck, like I'm in a nightmarish dream. However, I'm finding comfort in Faylayee's dramatization of the situation. At least, she's voicing how she feels--unlike me.

Our Aunt BeeBee speaks up on my voiceless behalf. She's not our real aunt, actually, we're not even real sisters, but our four elements form a complete magical circle--A sister circle. Meaning, every decision we make, we have to agree on it as a team. We call her Auntie because she's ten years older, wiser, and much stronger than us.

"They won't find out because we're going to cover it up." Aunt BeeBee's eyes seems weary, anxious and full of regret but her dark russet gold skin still glowed under the streetlight.

She's standing on the right side of the assailant, across from me, waiting for one of us to speak.

"I mean..."

"What?!"

Yes, what. We all stand there dumbfounded, shocked, and confused by Aunt BeeBee's particular choice of words. It's almost as if she's done this already, and possibly before we met her. 

I haven't said much tonight. The truth is, I don't know what to say or what to do. I wish I could sleep it off and worry about it in the morning, but life doesn't work like that.

How do you react to a dead body lying in front of you?

"Sis, let's just leave him here," Junie chimes in. Her eyes still locked on his contorted body, his dismembered fingers, and his red coat. "Besides, it's Mardi Gras weekend--people get drunk and die all the time."

Faylayee takes a step back, flabbergasted and bewildered. She lowers her eyes and snarls at her. "Do you know how crazy you sound?"

"Which part? The leave him here or people die all the time?"

Stunned by Junie's bitter tone, Faylayee throws her hands up, shaking them. She steps back even further, severing our sister circle. "This is not how my life's supposed to go!"

Aunt BeeBee glances at shell-shock me, then scowls at Junie for pushing Faylayee's over-dramatic buttons. "Fay, come on, relax."

"Relax?! I'm supposed to be looking at wedding cakes!"

For a brief moment, I thought Aunt BeeBee might run over to her, console her, and talk her off the metaphorical edge, but when she peeks at the dead body, she stops. Whatever she wanted to say, would have to wait. And speaking of waiting, I need Aunt BeeBee to share more of her 'cover it up' plans. I didn't agree with it, but I'm not against it either. Hell, if we manage to make it through the night, then I might volunteer, plant a tree, or give up sex for a ye---

"Yanni? Did you hear me?"

It's the first time one of my sisters said my name tonight. Aunt BeeBee's soft but assertive tone snaps me out of my thoughts. I wonder if my boyfriend, Zion is waiting for me by the bar. Or if he'll be mad if I don't show up.

"No. What happened?" The sound of my voice is raspy and dry. I cough a few times, clearing out my windpipes.

Aunt BeeBee sighs. "I asked if you're comfortable with the plan. Well?"  

First I peer at Junie, whose stance tells me I better agree because she doesn't have all night. Then I roll my brown eyes over to Faylayee. She's by the far end of a building wall having a mini meltdown and heated debate all by her lonesome. Faylayee doesn't seem interested in the body, the plan, or us, but I know she's listening, waiting for my answer. 

So, what should I do?

The only person who's thought of an idea is Aunt BeeBee. If I disagree with her then it leaves the decision split with Aunt BeeBee and Junie on one side and Faylayee and me on the other. A split decision means we have to regroup and think of another plan. If I agree with Auntie, then we must go along with operation cover up the dead body plan--no arguments, no questions asked.

Why does it always come down to me?

The back of my throat began to itch again. I need water, a warm bed, and a memory removal spell after everything was over. The time to choose a side was right now.

Junie huffs. "Yanni, we're wasting time." I can tell she wants to say more, but she needs me on her side.

Which side is the best?   

Without wasting another second, I take in a deep breath, muster in enough courage, and pray I don't disappoint my sister. "I think we should..."

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AN: What do you think? And which side will Yanni choose? Btw, it's my first time using first person-present tense.