The Craft

When I was a young girl, I would love life and the fire within it. Whether it is a fireplace, or a candle, I would always sit and enjoy the welcoming warmth wiht a smile. I can still see the flame burn, lick, and consume whatever I decided to put into it. I loved to listen to the slow, continuous popping as that of corn. Sometimes I find my hand mechanically reach out towards the element, ready to grasp it forever. Not for the burn, or the hurt, no but for the amazingness it brought. But little did I know the irony of my old ways. For soon I would touch that fire, yes, but never in a way that anyone would have ever expected. This is the story of I, Isabel Franks.


1. Dream

My story begins on my 15th birthday: May 8th, 1955. Oh, it was a wonderful day. The sun burned without a cloud in the sky. Birds chirped, and flew above me with a blanket of protection. My friends and I were performing a séance. In the middle of my backyard Jack, Rose, Lilly, Dimitri and I sat, clasping hands. My hand was gently placed in Dimitri’s. Oh, my Dimitri. He was so gentle, so kind, and my heart leapt every time I saw him. His dark brown eyes like melted chocolate held mine now, but his expression was unreadable. Never would I know if he loved me the same. Rose’s words abruptly pulled me back into reality. “Isabel! Hello? Uhm, we’re kinda in the middle of something!” “Uh… oh excuse me. I’m sorry… Yes, I believe we were. Ok. So what shall I say?” “How about asking ‘If anyone’s here, please make yourself known.’?” Jack suggested. His hands were both in Lily’s and mine. A bright smile lit across his face. Everyone knew he has a thing for Lily. But she has her eyes on someone else. He never cared though. I remember the time he suddenly kissed her at one of his parties. He swears he was drunk and tired. But, there was no alcohol involved at that party. Jack was never a drinker. “Good.” said Rose. “But I’m not saying it, so I guess it’s up to you three. “ “Neither am I!” the others chanted. “Guess that leaves me,” I sighed. To tell you the truth, I really didn’t mind. This whole thing sort of amazes me. After all, I was the one who had suggested this…I just couldn’t let them know that I like spells and magic. Wouldn’t you reject an outcast? So, I “gathered up my strength” and said, “Hello. We are not here to hurt you. My friends and I only wish to talk. If there is anyone listening, please make yourself heard.” Just then the wind picked up. It blew the trees taking leaves off of their stems. I clutched Dimitri’s hand, hiding my face into his arm. A total act. When the breeze stopped, I said again, my voice slightly shaking, “If that was you, I would like you to please touch one of us on the shoulders. This time the response took at least five minutes. I stood up when literally I was thrown back to the ground. Nothing like a small tap on the shoulder! No one stopped to help me of course. But someone pulled me by my arm. It wasn’t the ghost. No, it was Dimitri.

To my surprise he lifted me up and carried me back into my house! I looked into his eyes and was ecstatic to see the fear for me and the love that I most passionately wished for. Sure, my butt hurt –a lot- but I felt safe knowing that I was cradled in his arms. He looked down at me once more. We were back in the house, my living room filled with the sound of panting breaths. My heart was beating with the intensity of the wings of one thousand butterflies. “Well,” I breathed, “guess that worked."

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