1. I feel so Different

“I always knew that I was different”

My name is Julia and I was 13 when this story happened. I look like any other girl. I am not one of the popular girls that have the looks of Miss Universe. I was quite common and still liked my hair to be in pigtails. I was not a tomboy. Mom called me a Barbie girl, as I loved pretty dresses. I had a lot of teddy bears and I had a huge dollhouse that I still played with. I did not have a thousand friends. I had a good friend called Tina. She came from a very religious home. We were friends since playschool and I never thought our friendship would die.

I lived in a small historic town called Salem, which is in Maccetusets. There are about 40,000 people that live here. It is like living in a museum. All the buildings are so old. I suppose this is because we were one of the first towns established in the USA by colonists 400 years ago. My family also lived in a small house. In a way, it was strange to think about, that I was a small part of history.

Salem was very famous. In 1692, 30 people were accused of being a witch and 19 were executed. The witchhunt made people accuse each other of being witches. Imagine the fear that they lived under! Most people were puritans at this stage and they were, of course, afraid of evil. Witchcraft was blamed for people's sickness. This was a dark part of the history of our town, but also one that we could profit on in the modern world.

Tourists are most welcome here!

The Salem witch trials of 1692 are now part of our identity. Police cars are adorned with witch symbols. My school is called Witchcraft heights. Een the Salem High school athletes are known as the witches. A lot of tourists came to visit the place where so many people were killed for being witches.

I was the only child and lived with my mother. My father left when I was quite young. Mom told me that he learned that our ancestors were some of those that were executed in 1692. Dad did not like this fact and could not live with mom. I always thought this was a stupid excuse and even a weak one to leave his family. The secret was that he left because of me. I was never told this as Mom did not want me to feel guilty.

Mom was a good mother and worked at a retirement home as well as being a mother. I always considered mom as a saint. She never was negative or was mean with others. Her philosophy was that we should respect and love one another. One of the common things that Mom said was that “if you have nothing good to say, then do not say anything”.

I always knew I was different. When I was 7, my mom got very mad at me. I was playing in the front yard and sitting making a crown of flowers for my head. However, I could not find enough flowers so I just wished that some flowers around me would bloom so I could finish my crown. I did not think twice about the fact that there were suddenly now hundreds of flowers on the front lawn. They were much better than boring grass. When my mum saw what I have done, she was mad and told me not to be thinking of magic. I, of course, cried as I never did like mom was disappointed or mad at me. I was also confused. Why did she say to stop using magic?

The fact is I knew I could do strange things. Like when I tidied my room, I just had to sit on the bed and wave a few fingers. Then things would move around by themselves and my room would end up tidy. I was able to move things by just thinking of moving them. There were a lot of things that I could do that were considered magic. I never thought twice about it until a few months ago. I suppose I just thought it was something normal.

Maybe I was too young to think about why I could do strange things.

I knew my mother was worried at times when she saw me do magic. She would get mad at me and tell me not to do things that were not normal. She never used the word witch and looking back I am glad that she did not. If she told me that I was a witch, I would freak out. Witches for me at that age was some evil hag you dressed up for Halloween!

I told you that I knew I was different. I just was too young and maybe afraid of why I never asked why.

I could have asked the day when I was 9 years old and I saw my mom talking to someone invisible. I thought she was going crazy. She looked as if she was talking with herself. She was saying the I was destined to be a legend and she would not bind my powers. To be honest, I did not even know my mother was speaking about me. I just thought it was sad that my mother was speaking to herself. Of course now I know that she was speaking to one of our ancestor ghosts that wanted mom to bind my powers, so no one would ever find out who I was or what I was.

Things were ok until a few months ago.  I became a teenager. I became quite confused one day when I was doing my homework and thinking about the teacher that always gave us too much. I was mad that day as I absolutely did not want to do homework. I imagine harm being done to our teacher. I usually do not think about hurting others, but anger does strange things.  When I thought of the teacher, my pencil went on fire! You can imagine how I panicked when this happened.

It made me think once again why I could do strange things. This made me sit for hours and wonder who I was... What was I?

The next day I asked Tina if she thought I was strange. She smiled and told me that I had to be strange to be her friend. I know she was just using humor to cheer me up. Then she got serious and asked me why I suddenly would say something like this. I was too afraid to tell her about the weird things I could do. What would her reaction be?

The next few days went with me speculating over who I was. I would sit at home in my bedroom suddenly making a pencil become like a fire torch. I would get rid of the fire and do it again. This just made me ask myself more and more about what was wrong with me. I knew that it was not normal for people to be able to make things go on fire or move things by just thinking. There was something very seriously wrong with me!

Mom caught me doing my pencil trick and once again got mad at me. She told me once again to control what I was thinking and not do these sort of things. This time I just did not nod my head and cry. I told mom that I should not be able to do these things. I demanded to know what sickness I had. I was a teenager and I had a right to know why all these things were happening.

Mom sat down next to me and admitted that it was time that I knew the truth.

“ I have dreaded this day would come,” she said, “The fact of the matter is that you are a witch. You have special powers that no one else has. You can be a great witch that helps the world and make it a better place. You have been showing these talents since you were a baby. I wanted to tell you what you were, but always thought that you could not deal with the fact you were a witch.”

Mom was right. I could not deal with it then and I could not deal with it now. I screamed at my mom that this could not be the truth. As I screamed my bedroom became like hell. There was fire everywhere. The more I screamed the more fire there was. All I could think about was witches had green faces, long noses and were wicked. They were also killed by witch hunters. I shouted and shouted that I could not be a witch.

Mom told me that I was burning the house down. When she said this, it started raining in the house. I knew that this must have been one of my powers as well. The house was a mess. There were black burnt spots everywhere and the floor had puddles of water.

I ran away and felt like screaming louder and louder. Every place I looked, there was something about a witch. Of course, there was! Our town was known for the witch trials a few hundred years ago. I ran thinking that I always thought that these were people that were not so educated and let their puritan ways lead to this hunt. How stupid I could be!

I was a witch!

I ended up in the forest and sat down under a large tree. This tree was most likely also a witness to the witch trials in 1692, and now it had a new witch sitting under its leaves.

I was a witch!

How could I be so stupid? I should have guessed this years ago. Why did I not question more the fact that I had special abilities or powers? Was I deep down afraid of what I would find out? Would my reaction be the same as it was now? I sat there wondering why me and what would I do now?

“ I remember when my parents told me I was a witch,” a voice said. “ I was so mad and so confused. I felt so sorry for myself. I used my powers to pin my parents against the ceiling. They were there for hours!”

There was a woman standing in front of me. She was dressed in white and had this glowing light around her. She had the most beautiful hair ever. She told me that her name was Miranda, and she is once of my ancestors. Miranda explained that our family was witches since we could remember. Some were hunted and persecuted, but most lived normal lives.

“ Some witches are dark ones and evil. Our family is angels of light and we choose to use our magic for good. You will learn how to be a witch, but you are also protected and guided by your ancestors. You can see us and talk with us. We will help you. Just remember this, being a witch can be a good thing, if the magic is used wisely.”

I was speechless. I just met a person that was dead for hundreds of years. This is something that does not happen every day. I felt better after she talked with me. Being a witch did not mean that I was a bad person. I was the same person as I was before.

I decided to go to the Church and pray.

Does God like witches? Does God still love me?

To be continued

Reviews

[Beccy]

Putting aside the odd punctuation and spelling error and some issues with syntax and tense, the story itself has really great potential. I really like how it is told from the viewpoint of a thoroughly modern young girl, who knows only that 'witches' are bad and ugly, it works really well as a concept.

I enjoyed this and am genuinely looking forward to reading the next chapter, as I have a feeling that good things will happen. Is it in process?

Beccy.

[Victoria Temple]

Yes, working on it