Our Book of Shadows

***It is dark and cold, her surroundings make her feel claustrophobic. It is dead silent and she doesn't know where she is. Then all of a sudden she hears a small, faint, shaky female voice say… “Is anyone there?”***


1. Chapter 1

    She startled awake, breathing heavily, sitting straight up, among sheets soaked in cold sweat. Her hand grabbed at the table for a light switch.

“It wasn't real… It wasn't real…” she continued to repeat to herself.

It was so vivid, that she came to the realization it may have been a memory. Not hers however, a memory of someone who lived long ago. Of someone who died long ago…

            The heat from the fire was so extreme; she swore she could still feel the pain. She questioned if she was still asleep, when lifting back the covers the air hitting her legs intensified this feeling. When she looked down she became confused, her feet and legs were covered in blisters and burns.

 “WHAT IS HAPPENING?!?!” she screamed.

            She sat at the table in the kitchen drinking her tea, trying to find the courage to apply the homeopathic ointment to treat the burns. A Mixture she put together made of; aloe, spearmint, chamomile, tea tree oil, and witch hazel. She applies it with softened plantain leaves, when suddenly her dogs bark. The kind of bark that alerts her that someone is outside. She rises from her seat then heads to the front door and halfway there, the doorbell rings. She has learnt to trust her Familiars. As she approaches the door she can see through the glass, she hangs her head and sighs, she recognizes the person waiting for her.

She opens the door and says, “Hey Sam, how can I help you?”

“I have a question!” he said very bluntly.

“What is that?” he said pointing.

She followed the direction of his finger, and simply responded in an almost sarcastic tone.

“A broom…”

He asked, “What do you use it for?”

She knew the point he way trying to make, but if he was going to play this game, she was going to play along. He was referring to the fact that the old straw broom was upside down and leaning against the door frame.

“Sweeping”, she responded. “Is there anything else I can help you with Sam?”

He stood quietly thinking.

“If there is nothing else I have things to do.” She said politely. “Bye Sam” as she closed the door.

He had always been one of those nosy neighbors, gossiping to her about everyone else who lived on their street. She knew he was becoming suspicious about certain things she did.

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