Embers & Spells

Two cups of smile and a piece of sweet lie, Words to whisper, let the night simmer. It's been a while, let me ride and we fly, I am sinner but they are no better. I ran more than a mile, hiding from the sky, I can burn but not her and that’s all that matter. **** I thought being different was good. That it would attract more friends. I had learned early on that it was the opposite. Nothing good came from being different. People quickly tagged me as a freak, like some sort of disease they would catch if they stood near me. I remembered playing with a kid of my age for the first time. It made me happy to have someone share my toys with. As excitement overwhelmed me, I made the leaves fell from the tree, letting it swirl around us. Her mama screamed in panic and snatch her away. Unusual things happened when I was happy or sad and that scared the other kids. My mama called them episodes. That day, I had learned what I truly am. A witch. Someone people burn because they believed we were a curse. The kind of people from the other side would say as gifted. The chosen ones that the others would envy and destroy. But I wasn’t just that. My mother made sure I would survive. Surviving was my only way in life. Most of the time, I felt like a lost soul wandering here and there, nothing much to live for.  I remembered my mom telling me that I have a purpose and should grow up strong and brave. Just like her. But I guess, she became too brave for her own good and before I could even make sense of what life truly was, she was gone. I was nine then. Today, I turned eighteen. I realized that being different wasn’t that different at all. I wanted what most girls wanted. I had the same beliefs, the same outlook. I had the same curiosity and stupidity. I wanted to fall in love and be silly. But I knew that would not happen anytime soon, knowing nobody ever turned their head in my direction. And whenever someone tried, I could see fears in their eyes as they look at me. They never looked too long, afraid that I was the freak the rumors told them about, that I could hypnotize them. But when I saw Agatha Montes arguing with a guy in the middle of the day on my eighteenth birthday, I felt the need to help her. But the thing was, we weren’t friends. In fact, she always acted like I was invisible, a ghost wandering the halls and rooms of Michaelson High. Truth was, Agatha was a bully, a mean girl. And sometimes, I was at the receiving end of her silly acts. I sighed and started to walk the opposite way. Then she screamed. My feet froze, my body refused to walk away now. Women should be each other’s support, right? A voice in my head told me to turn around. So I did. The guy grabbed her arm, as if forcing her to follow him. People just glanced at their direction, all pretended that seeing something like that was the new norm. But I knew Agatha. She was composed and fiery, and the guy she was with was definitely not her boyfriend. Then our eyes met. “Tana,” she barely whispered, her eyes pleading as she flailed her arm to free herself from the guy. I headed toward them, holding the box of cake I bought at Yoong’s Sweets, eyeing the stranger warily. “What’s going on?” I asked, my voice sounded hoarse even in my ears. “You okay?” “Tana,” Agatha called out clearer now. “This psycho just won’t let go of me.” The guy threw me a look, as if wanting to scare me. “Go get lost, princess. This is our business,” he said, a warn in his tone. “You know him?” I asked Agatha, raising an eyebrow. I wouldn’t want to impose myself if she didn’t need help. “Let go, you’re hurting me!” she yelled at him. “Tana, please,” she added glancing at me, her other hand stretched out to me. “I’ll call the police if you don’t let go,” I muttered, pulling out my cell phone from the front pocket of my jeans. “I’d like to see you try, you b***h!” He smirked, pulling Agatha forcefully. “Just let her go,” I repeated, reaching out to pull Agatha from his grasp. I didn’t have all the patience with me today and just wanted to celebrate my birthday quietly with my godmother. But then he resisted, hurting Agatha more. I looked at the guy, and in the fleeting second our eyes met, I cast a spell, hypnotizing him to feel the burn in his hands. Instantly, he let go of her, screaming in pain. Agatha ran beside me, clutching her arms. I could tell he was holding too tight, seeing that there were red marks left in her skin. That irritated me. What was with guys and their shitty attitudes? “You little b***h!” He snapped, his mouth twitching as he stared at his hands, still feeling the burn. “What’s happening?! Make it stop! Make it stop!” I stepped back, Agatha mirroring me, and I made the stranger see shadows, made him hear hisses and voices, turning his fear appeared in front of him. He started to retreat, eyes wide, and ran away. Just as he crossed the street, a speeding motorcycle strode in, hitting him. Everything slowed down as I stood frozen with eyes wide. The stranger stumbled a few feet from the collision, his body looked like a rag doll in the ground. Not long after, I could see blood pooled from his head, just as crowd started to swarm the incident. I heard Agatha screamed in terror beside me and it felt like the ground shook, as if ready to swallow me down. The cake I was carrying slid down my hands. My chest heaved and my heartbeat skyrocketed. What I thought was just a little scary fantasy rapidly morphed into horror and nightmare. What have I done?