The Witching Hour

Eliza Callan has felt lonely and depressed since her beloved mum passed away.

She's living with her aunt Katia, who is trying hard to help her deal with her grief, but nothing she tries seems to have any effect.

Until the day Katia tells her a shocking secret, that her mum was a Witch that she is also a Witch and that witchcraft has been in their family since before the Witch trials.

Katia tells Eliza she will teach her all the spells and secrets to being a witch. Will Eliza understand what her mum was, what her aunt and grandmother are.

WIll she follow in the family footsteps, will she even want to once she learns the truth about how her mum really died.

The hour may soon be at hand for this new young witch. Will she rise to face the challenges ahead, or will she fall. Before she fully understands what she can become.


2. Lost Girl

September 12th, two weeks after her mum's funeral.


Eliza was once again alone in her new bedroom writing her new blog on her iPad. She started it on the advice of the therapist who told her to make a journal of some kind as a way to deal with losing her mum.


Eliza wrote about how she didn't like that this was where she was living now and would be stuck for the foreseeable future, as her Nan hadn't seemed to want her, she had no other choice but to live with her aunt.


She liked Katia, all her life she had been her cool aunt always bringing her presents, always doing little magic tricks, but she wasn't her mum and she never could be.


I don't hate auntie Kat as I usually call her, but I just can't accept that this is my home now. These last few weeks have been rough, from waking up in the hospital and learning mum was gone and the horrible way that some relatives, most of whom I'd never even met before, seem to blame me for what happened.


The truth is maybe they're right, maybe it was my fault, and it’s not like I can even remember what happened to argue with them that they're wrong.


The worst part is that Including my Nan, who I love and who had loved me and been there my whole life seems to hold me responsible as well, those other people I could care less about, but her. I don't know If i'll get over it if she never speaks to me again.


Without having a dad being around when I was growing up, it was always nan, mum, Kat and me, the four musketeers we called ourselves.


Only now, Nan can't seem to bear being around me and when she is the way she looks at me, just kills me.


I know what you're thinking as you read this, if anyone is actually reading this. Pfft, teenagers, especially teenage girls are so prone to drama and blowing things out of all proportion.


I'm not, at least I don't think I am. I don't think I'm overstating it when I say I think my Nan hates me now. Still that's still not the worst part, being discharged and realising I couldn't go home anymore wasn't either.


No, the worst part of all this has been the first time I cried, the first time it really hit me that my mum was gone, I was in tears for what felt like days.


I cried so hard by the end my chest hurt, my eyes were so red it looked like I'd been punched in the face. My cheeks stained and dry from the volume of tears that had fallen.


I swear I thought I'd dried out all the fluid in my eyes, I had hoped it meant that I was all cried out.


I was very wrong.


It hasn't stopped, right now I don't know if it will ever stop, like last week, a week after the funeral, when it dawned on me that I hadn't cried for a few days was all it took to make me start to cry all over again.


I felt guilty as if that meant I wasn't still grieving for her, when I know I will be grieving for her, probably for the rest of my life.


I don't know if I should mention this, I don't want that therapist woman to recomend I get locked up in the loony bin, but two nights after the funeral I still couldn't get to sleep it was the early hours. like 3am when I considered taking my life, I just thought what is the point going on, my mum is she gone and Nan probably wishes I had been the one to die.


I could never even go back to live in the only home I'd ever known.


I think, no, I know the only reason I haven't ended it, is because of auntie Kat, she at least doesn't seem to blame me and I know she is struggling with the grief of losing her big sister.


I know never had a brother or sister, still I don't have to imagine how palpable her pain is as I hear her cry herself to sleep most nights. That's as well as the times I’ve caught her wiping away the tears in the daytime when she's just going about doing regular stuff.


I think she blames herself for some reason, how could she, she wasn't even there when it happened.


The car crash or was it a house fire, I don't understand why I am so confused about what happened.


It could only be one of them couldn't it, or could something else entirely have happened. I don't know and I can't talk to anyone about it, Auntie Kat looks like she'll burst into tears if it seems as if I'm about to bring up that night and my texts, Direct Messages and Skype requests to nan have all been ignored.


I don't know if I would be brave enough to ask Nan even if she did start talking to me again.


Maybe I'm just grasping at straws imagining one of those is how it happened. In all honesty, most of the last few months are actually little more than a blur.


The fact that my memory is so bad frustrates me so much. Even with the therapy and the mental exercises I'm doing, I still have no idea what happened that day, I just have a sense of it was sudden and violent.


Thinking about it just got too much for Eliza and she switched the tablet off without posting or saving any of what she had written.


Eliza could feel the sadness about to engulf her again, she knew she had to do something to try to distract herself before a fresh flood of tears began to fall.


Reaching over to the bedside table, Eliza lifted the iPod off the docking station and put the earphones in, to hopefully let music wash over her.


That didn't work as the first song up That's What Makes You Beautiful, by One Direction, she wasn't in the mood for something so upbeat. She had it on shuffle and after she pressed the skip button the next song was Stairway to the Skies by Within Temptation as much as she loved that song, she felt like it hit to close to home and she pressed the button to skip it.


The next song to come up was Hey Jude by The Beatles, one of her mum's favourite songs, from one of her favourite bands.


That hit her hard and she paused it, uncertain if she could or wanted to hear it so soon or ever again for that matter.


Then one of her earliest memories came back to her, her and her mum in their pyjamas dancing around the living room so she curled up on her bed and she began to cry again.


Unbeknownst to Eliza, even without publishing it someone had been reading her blog.They had complete access to her tablet, not only had they been reading every word she typed.


They had been through her Facebook and Twitter accounts. Seen all the photos she posted read everything she posted online dating back long before her mum's death, they were just trying to figure out how best to use it to their advantage.


When the best time and place to introduce themselves would be, how to make the greatest impact and cause the most pain to her and all the other witches.

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