Part One: Chapter Seven

A Chapter by Alex Thomas

Part One: The Spider

Chuck had scurried home as fast as her awkward leg would carry her. It ached by the time she dug her key from her pocket at the front door. She scuttled up to her room. “A witch? How insane is she?” Chuck shook her head. “Really, now?”

“Chuck, you have to listen to her. I tried telling you myself, but I had to leave.” A familiar voice cooed to her.

“Mom? I’m dreaming again. Just like I was in Algebra. Just like a few months ago.” Chuck squeezed her eyes shut. “I’ll wake up soon.”

“Honey, please open your eyes. I need to talk to you.” The white silhouette smiled. “I missed those pretty green eyes. Chuck, you need to listen to Elizabeth.”

“She’s a lunatic!”

Her mother rolled her eyes. “Chuck, you’re standing in your bedroom talking to your mother’s ghost.”

Charlotte paused. Her next words came out slowly. “So a witch, huh? Was the crash fake too and you were really killed by a homicidal wizard?”

Her mother shook her head. “No, I need to you to think about the car crash though. Remember what we were doing right before the car got hit?”

Chuck tried to remember. The trauma from the day had clogged part of her memory. “We…were singing.”

“Do you remember what?”

Pondering, she opened her mouth. Then she answered, “It was that stupid bluegrass song that Dad likes about not dying. It just keeps going ‘No way, no way, no way, I ain’t gonna to die today…’ right?”

She nodded. “It rhymes and when spoken through a witch, a rhyme is a spell. I put the song on purposely.”

“But you couldn’t have known that we were going to crash, could you? Unless you’re a witch too?”

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Not a witch, I’m a seer.”

Throwing her arms up, Chuck stated, “Oh, there are seers too. Of course.” She rubbed her temples. “This is too weird.”

“I had a vision when you were born. You are going to be such a powerful witch, not to mention what you’ll do. I knew that I needed to save you. And then, last July, I saw the death of my family, my own death, and I remembered that I needed to protect you, so I tricked you into saying a spell.”

“Why didn’t you try to stop the car crash?” Furious, Charlotte questioned. “You should’ve told us not to get in the car!”

“Charlotte, calm down. When I was fourteen, I had a vision of my parents’ divorce. I did everything to stop them from fighting. They still got divorced, but my own mystic karma was thrown off.”

“Your what?”

She sighed, “Mystic karma is what keeps super-naturals in check. For example, if you used your power to fix your leg, something worse would happen to you.”

“So what happened to you?”

The eerily white irises pierced Chuck’s. “My mother turned on me. She asked me why I didn’t stop it. When I couldn’t answer her, she threw me out and it’s not like my dad had a place yet.”

Chuck paled. “I’m sorry, Mom. Wait. Didn’t that spell technically save me from death? Doesn’t that throw off my mystic whatever?”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. No plan is perfect. You still have your life. I mean, honestly Chuck, you were supposed to die. There was a giant chunk of glass in your neck. So tell me, if you would’ve had mobility, would you have pulled it out?”

Subconsciously, she rubbed the thick white scar. Then Chuck nodded. “Wouldn’t you? It hurt so badly.”

“What stopped you from pulling it out?”

Her eyes widened. “My leg. It hurt to move so I stayed still.”

“That’s part of your karma.” Her mother pointed to her leg. “But that’s not even a significant payment for safety from death. You’re going to have a lot more bad luck before anything good happens.”

“Did you have any visions to prepare me for that?”

She shook her head. “I can only imagine what fate is going to do to you, my poor baby…”

“So what do I do now?”

Her mother glared. “You tell me.”

“Apologize to Lizzie and ask her to help me?”

She nodded. “You’re going to be okay.” The cold figure kissed the top of her head and disappeared like sand in a windstorm, particle by particle. Her voice echoed though her body was gone. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Charlotte mumbled, sitting in the silence. Those few moments with her mother meant so much more to her than her being a witch, but still her curiosity piqued. A faint memory came back to her.

“Charlotte? Come here, you little rascal!” An old gentleman with a long white beard peered around the corner. His Scottish accent broke his words.

“You gotta catch me, Poppy!” The toddler ran between his legs. Her dark curls bounced while she trotted.

He scooped up the little girl in his arms. “That’s a good little girl. Can you say something for me?”

“I can say lots of things!” The small child boasted.

“I need you to say, ‘with eight legs crawling, it’s this creature I’m calling’” The old man uncurled his fingers to reveal a spider.

Charlotte withdrew afraid of the arachnid. “I wanna try!” She repeated the chant to find a small spider in her own palm. She giggled. “How did that happen, Poppy?”

“Magic.” He whispered.

“Charlotte? Charlotte, it’s time for dinner!”

Chuck shook off the memory and trotted downstairs. She was stuck in her own thoughts as she ate.

“Charlotte, what happened to going over to that girl’s house?” Mrs. DiRagno asked worried.

“I’m heading over there tomorrow. She was busy this afternoon.” Chuck lied.

Mr. DiRagno peered at her curiously. “Who is this girl?” He snapped harshly.

Shrinking a bit beneath his hostility, Charlotte replied, “Her name is Lizzie Johnston.”

“You may not go.” He spat callously.

Chuck was agape at the irony of the situation. When she went to object, she found Mrs. DiRagno had beaten her to the chance. “Giovanni! She can make friends, can’t she?”

“Charlotte, go to your room.”

She stumbled up the stairs. Once in her room, she pressed her ear to the floor listening.

“Annette, how foolish are you? Johnston! They’re one of the strongest Wiccan clans in the state. It’s bad enough that Charlotte already knows what she is. And you were going to let her get trained to boot!” There was a period of silence and Charlotte pressed her ear harder against the floor as if it would make him speak again. “Ellen! Go get Charlotte. I need to speak with her.”

Charlotte sprang up on her bed and flipped open her Algebra binder.

When Ellen walked in, she raised her eyebrows. “Homework over vacation?” She questioned suspiciously.

“No breaks at Leman’s,” Chuck retorted keeping her face straight.

“Sir Giovanni would like to see you in the dining area.”

She nodded and closed the notebook. As she shuffled downstairs, she felt Ellen’s eyes on her. Charlotte needed to contain her anger toward herself. She was the only one who didn’t realize she was a witch. The DiRagnos didn’t want to adopt a parentless teenager; they wanted to adopt an ignorant witch. The only thing Charlotte was unsure of now, was what Mr. and Mrs. DiRagno were. “You wanted to speak to me?”

“Yes, you may not go to this girl’s house.”

“Why?”

The wrinkles of his skin folded in anger. “Because I said no, Charlotte! When will you learn to respect your father?”

“You’re not my father!” She balled her fists. After biting back the rest of her words, Charlotte sighed. “I’m sorry.” A lie slipped past her lips. “And I got her last name wrong.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s Jamieson. There are so many Lizzie’s in my classes that I have trouble remembering their names. But that doesn’t change anything. I’m sorry.” Chuck turned, her head low in false shame.

“Charlotte?”

Chuck spun again, filling her eyes with innocence. “Yes?”

“You may go.”

She climbed the stairs to go to her bedroom; a sly grin parted her lips.

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