Spellbound

Here we are with day 4 and “D”! Today there is no combining of songs. I couldn’t figure out how to do it, so I’m going with the song Anne J recommended (thanks, Anne!), Katy Perry’s “Dark Horse,” which has tones of “don’t fool with me” that I ran with…or rather wrote with.

Spellbound

“Temper your temper, Serena,” Aunt Sylvie says. She says it so often to me that I now shrug, not that I didn’t before but that was more internal. Now I don’t care that she knows I don’t care.

In the past month, I’ve discovered that I’m not someone to be messed with. I have powers and I know how to make them work. Oh, the Aunts have been meddlesome. “Don’t do this. Don’t do that. If you do this, there will be a price to pay.” But there isn’t. I am the exception to the rule. As usual. All of that rhetoric about having bad come back at you if you cast a negative spell is nonsense. Nothing bad’s happened to me.

I gather the herbs and oils I need to make the potion. The final step in the Trey situation. I’ve already done the summoning spell and being the nice boy he is, he texted to let me know he was on his way.

The doorbell rings its sonorous tune, which makes me smile. I must do this swiftly before he realizes that anything strange is happening.

My heart jumps as it always does when I see him, something that really must stop. I must control him. I begin the chant, but there’s no flurry of energy. I feel nothing building inside or around me. Momentarily panic advances, but I tamp it down. This is not the time to panic. He will be mine and sorry for ever thinking about choosing that other girl.

Again, I start the chant aware that Trey is frowning at me.

“What’s going on, Serena?” he asks.

“Well, hello, Trey, what a surprise to see you here,” Aunt Sylvie says as she pats him on the arm.

Her eyes narrow at me. She’s the source of my problem. She will be sorry.

“I thought you needed to see me,” Trey says to me.

“Oh, Serena is a bit too busy, Trey. Maybe you can come back another time.”

When the door closes after Trey, I spin on Aunt Sylvie. “I will make you sorry.”

“Oh, dear, you already have, which is why we’ve bound your powers. Maybe sometime in the future you can be trusted, but we’ve seen no sign of it.”

I scream, a scream that shatters glass in all the nearby homes.

end

Sascha Darlington

 

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