Witches Chronicles

There’s something about the last first day of school that feels different. Not like the usual back-to-school jitters or the pressure of senior year. No, this is something else. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but it’s there, simmering beneath the surface, just out of reach. I pull myself out of bed, my hand sliding across the cool sheets as sunlight filters through the blinds, casting thin lines of gold across the room. My reflection in the mirror catches my eye, and for a moment, I pause. I’m not vain, but even I can admit I’ve always been... well, pretty. My long, straight brown hair falls perfectly around my face, and my big, round hazel eyes seem brighter today, almost too bright. I look like I belong on the cover of some teen magazine, but that’s not what throws me off. It’s the way I feel different. Tomorrow’s my eighteenth birthday. I should be excited, right? But something feels off. Ever since I got back from visiting Dad over the summer, there’s been this tension I can’t shake. Something waiting just beneath the surface, like it’s on the verge of breaking through. And as much as I try to ignore it, I can’t help but feel like everything’s about to change. "Willow!" Grams’ voice calls from downstairs, snapping me out of my thoughts. "Breakfast is ready!" I glance at the clock. 7:00 AM, right on time. Grams always has a strict schedule. She says routines keep the mind sharp, though I’m pretty sure she just likes to nag me about getting out of bed on time. I throw on my favorite pair of jeans and a simple black t-shirt, then sweep my hair into a messy ponytail, leaving a few strands to frame my face. My reflection in the mirror catches my attention again, my hazel eyes glowing softly in the morning light. I shake my head, brushing off the weird feeling that keeps gnawing at me. "Coming!" I shout as I grab my bag and head downstairs. Grams is at the stove, humming softly, flipping pancakes with that same careful precision she’s always had. She’s been acting strange ever since I got back. More distant, almost like she’s waiting for something to happen. And then there’s the way she’s been watching me, like she’s expecting something... different. "Good morning, sweet pea," she says, not turning around as I walk into the kitchen. The smell of pancakes fills the room, but the usual comfort I get from it feels tainted by the odd tension hanging in the air. "Morning," I mumble, grabbing a piece of toast. I watch her for a second, waiting for her to ask the usual questions about school, plans, or what I’ll do for my birthday. But she’s silent, flipping the pancakes over with deliberate care. "Are you feeling any different?" she asks suddenly, her voice softer than usual. I pause, the toast halfway to my mouth. "Different? No. Why?" She shrugs, but I can feel the tension in her shoulders. "No reason. Tomorrow’s a big day, that’s all." I roll my eyes. "You’re talking about my birthday? I’m just turning eighteen, Grams. It’s not that big of a deal." Grams gives me a small, tight-lipped smile but doesn’t meet my eyes. "Eighteen is more special than you think, Willow." I raise an eyebrow, trying to laugh it off. "Right. Unless I wake up with superpowers or something, I’m not holding my breath." Her smile doesn’t waver, but it doesn’t reach her eyes either. She steps closer, brushing a strand of hair from my face with her fingers, and I can feel her searching for something in my expression. "You might be surprised." I step back, frowning slightly. "You’re being weird again." Grams sighs, shaking her head, but her eyes linger on me a moment too long. "Just... be mindful. Pay attention to how you feel today. Things are going to change." "Okay, I will." I lean in to give her a quick kiss on the cheek, eager to leave before the conversation gets any stranger. "Layla’s waiting. I gotta go." As I turn to leave, Grams calls after me, her voice a little sharper than before. "Be careful today, Willow." I hesitate, the front door handle in my hand. "I’m always careful." But the way she says it... something about it sends a shiver down my spine. As soon as I step outside, I hear the familiar rumble of Layla’s old red Jeep. The sight of it brings a smile to my face, even if my nerves haven’t completely settled. Layla, my best friend since we were five, is the one person who can always pull me out of my head when I get like this. She leans out of the window, her long, dark hair spilling over her shoulders. "You coming, or are you gonna stand there looking pretty all day?" I laugh and jog down the steps. "I’m coming, I’m coming." Sliding into the passenger seat, the familiar scent of Layla’s coconut body spray fills the car, grounding me. She glances at me, her dark brown eyes narrowing playfully. "You look... off." I blink. "Off? What do you mean?" Layla shrugs as she pulls out of the driveway. "I don’t know. Maybe I’m just reading into it, but you seem kind of... distant? Is everything okay?" I bite my lip, trying to figure out how to explain the strange, heavy feeling that’s been hanging over me all morning. "Yeah, I’m fine. Just... still getting used to being back, I guess." Layla gives me a knowing smile. "How was it with your dad? Still working 24/7?" "Pretty much," I sigh. "Barely saw him." She makes a sympathetic noise, reaching over to squeeze my hand. "That sucks. But hey, you’re back now. And Evie’s been dying to see you. You’re not gonna believe her hair." I raise an eyebrow. "What did she do this time?" Layla grins, eyes gleaming with amusement. "She dyed it red. Like, bright red. She’s calling it her 'senior year transformation.'" I laugh, shaking my head. Of course Evie did. She’s always been the dramatic one, changing her look on a whim or starting some new phase in her life. Even though she can be over-the-top, she’s still one of the best people I know. Between her and Layla, I somehow ended up with two amazing best friends who balance each other—and me—out perfectly. As we pull into the school parking lot, that familiar knot of nerves tightens in my stomach. I can see students gathered near the entrance, laughing and catching up after summer break. For most people, it’s the same old routine. But for me, something feels... different. It’s like the air around me is charged, full of static, and I can’t tell if I’m imagining it or if something is actually happening. "You ready for this?" Layla asks, parking the Jeep and turning to me with a grin. I force a smile, pushing down the unease that’s been gnawing at me. "As ready as I’ll ever be." We climb out of the car, and the moment my feet hit the pavement, that strange buzz gets louder. It’s like something’s pulling at me, tugging just beneath the surface of my skin, and I can’t shake the feeling that something is about to happen. "Willow!" a voice calls out, snapping me back to reality. I turn to see Evie striding toward us, her long red hair bouncing as she walks. She’s wearing a designer outfit that’s way too fancy for the first day of school, but that’s Evie. Always making an entrance, always turning heads. "Look at you!" Evie exclaims, wrapping me in a tight hug. "I’ve missed you so much! How was your summer? You look amazing!" I smile, pulling back. "It was... fine. The usual. You look... different." Evie grins, flipping her red hair dramatically. "New year, new me. What do you think?" "You look like you’re about to star in a movie or something," I tease, shaking my head. Evie laughs, but then her gaze sharpens, studying me for a moment. "You look different too, Willow." I frown. "Different how?" "I don’t know," she says, tilting her head. "You’re just... glowing or something. Did something happen over the summer?" I force a laugh, trying to brush it off. "Nope, just the same old me." But even as I say it, I feel that pull again. Something’s off, and it’s not just me noticing. Layla smirks, linking her arm with mine. "Maybe it’s just birthday magic." Evie gasps, her eyes lighting up. "Oh my God, your birthday’s tomorrow! We have to do something special! A party, a—" "No parties," I cut in quickly. "I’m not really in the mood for a big thing." Evie pouts, but Layla gives her a look, and she relents. "Fine, fine. But we’re still doing something." "Let’s just get through today first," I say, my voice quieter as the strange feeling tightens around me. We step into the school, the familiar chaos of the first day of classes filling the halls. But beneath the laughter and the chatter, that same buzzing static hums in the back of my mind. It’s almost like something is watching me. Waiting. And for the first time, I’m not sure if I’m ready for it.