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This story is inspired by the brilliant series American Horror Story: Coven. If you enjoy it or wish to read more, send me an email at nbradFshaw@yahoo.com.
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"So, this is like, a school for witches?" Noland sat beside me as I drove the three and a half hours from L.A. to Fresno. There was something off about him; of course I knew what it was, but I had to pretend like I didn't, at least for his sake. I didn't need to read his mind to know. That was the fifth time he'd asked.
"Not really. It's more like a home, a safe haven. We aren't teaching them how to be witches, just molding them," I didn't make the drive often because I didn't have to. I'd given this place to Glenda to run as she saw fit, and she excelled at running it. It made me look good, and I looked even better when I showed up every once in a while to remind them all who was in charge.
"Did you...go here?" whether or not he cared, he was talking to fill the silence because it made him uncomfortable. Keeping secrets did that to people who weren't used to them. "I mean like when you were a kid witch."
"I lived in a foster home, but it wasn't this one. I wasn't so fortunate to know who I was back then. I bought this place about twenty years ago, and bought most of the property around it to give us some space," I told him. "This used to be the Meek Mansion, but now it's called Glenda's House for the Fortunate."
"Really? Fortunate?" he smiled, and so did I.
"The name is not as fortunate as the witches who live there. Glenda wanted something that didn't seem obvious but wasn't depressing. I didn't really care what she called it, so I didn't fight her on it."
"So you lived it a foster home?" I knew that he, like most people, didn't have a lot of experience with foster homes, and didn't know that they knew people who came from them. It wasn't something that a lot of people talk about, myself included.
"I did. Up until I went off to college," I said, looking out of the window at the cars wizzing past.
"Did you like it?" he sounded the way people did when they talked to cancer patients, like they didn't want to say the wrong thing in case it would send you straight to the emergency.
"Do you really want to talk about that? I'm sure there are other ways we could spend the next thirty minutes."
"Julian we could have sex after that. But I barely know anything about you. I'm...curious," I knew why he was curious, trying to figure out what he really felt about me now that he'd met someone else. And this wouldn't be the first time someone'd asked about my past, nor would it be the first time I'd answered. Most of the time it was all lies to fit the situation, and it'd be nice if the lies would blurr together so that I couldn't tell the difference between them and the truth, but they didn't.
"M.B."
"What does that stand for?"
"My initials. My uncle, he renamed me B.M. He put it on all of my notebooks and wrote it on all my underwear. B.M."
"I thought you said-"
"I wasn't always a foster kid. I had parents and I had family. My uncle, he was the last of that family, but he wasn't much. Infact he hated me so much that he refused to call me Julian. Instead he thought it'd be funny to call me B.M., bastard mutt. My mom was white and my dad was black, so I guess technically he was right. I lived with him for about a year before he dropped me off at a foster home. Literally dropped me off; told me to get out and never come back. Said I was looking too much like "one of them" for him to be able to pass me."
"Julian, you don't have to tell me this if you don't want to," I looked at Noland. So handsome, but not as innocent as he used to be. He'd grown, grown enough to try and manipulate me. He had his hand on my arm and was looking into my eyes, and they seemed sympathetic, but they also said how much he wanted me to continue.
"You asked, Noland. Don't go punking out because my story isn't the male version of Annie," I joked. He didn't laugh. "I went to live with him when I was nine, and he got rid of me when I was ten. Before that, I lived with my parents in Georgia. They were great. They loved me. I never did figure out which one of them was a witch; maybe they planned to tell me when I got older. Maybe they didn't. We didn't have any family in Georgia. They moved out their to run from their families, but my mothers brother, he came out there once a year to visit his baby sister. I guess it was luck that they burned our house to the ground when he was visiting. He got me out, and took me with him. My parents died in that fire. Even then I knew I was different, I knew I had to hide it too. I knew my uncle didn't like me, and I didn't want to give him a reason to toss me out. When he did, I wasn't surprised; I could see all the looks he gave me, they way he talked about my mother. He would tell his friends that his sister had lost her mind, and he should of checked her into a crazy house when he had the chance. One time his wife told me that she'd offered to take her to get rid of me, and should have insisted when my mother refused to go. But somehow even living with them was better than living in a foster home. At least then I lived with someone who knew me, even if they didn't love me. They loved my mother, and that would have been enough for me." He didn't say anything else; no doubt he had no idea what to say. I could tell that he was busy thinking about his own family, and how stupid he felt for arguing with them and hating them at times. It's what went through everyone's mind when they talked to someone who grew up without a family.
"I'm so sorry, Julian. I can't imagine what that must have felt like," he finally broke his own silence, but I could tell that there was more to come. He was ready to confess his soul to me.
"It sucked, but it made me stronger. And I made friends in the foster home, so it wasn't all bad," I told him, resting my hand on his thigh. "Anyways that was a long time ago. I've made peace with it all, one way or the other."
"It just...I don't know if I could have survived all of that, and come out so...perfect," he struggled to say the last word, struggled because even though he knew it didn't fit, there was nothing else that did either.
"I'm not perfect, Noland. I'd have to be pretty heartless to not have carried any scars along with me. And I did, for a long time. I didn't always know it, but I did," he seemed satisfied with the answer, and didn't push it anymore. "Have you ever had a psychic reading?"
"No. I don't- I mean I never really believed in all that stuff," we were close enough to the school that I figured I'd prepare him for what lay ahead.
"That's why we're here. There's a young witch who believes herself to be talented, more than most- and I'm going to find out what she's made of."
"So what she's going to read my palm or something?" he asked, joking.
"Not yours, mine. And palm reading is silly. She, like others, relies on the cards. Personally I think it's because it's more dramatic, but it still works."
"So why can't she do me?"
"Because I'm doing you. Isn't that enough?" He tensed and then tried to hide it. I hadn't realized the duality in the joke he would see when I made it, but there was no taking it back now.
"I-yeah. I meant why can't she read my cards," Noland tried to be smooth, but it wasn't working; some people aren't built for lies.
"I'm sure she'll try to. Reading a human's fortune is easy. Reading a Supreme's...now that takes some real witching. If I just wanted to get my fortune told, I have a friend for that. Remind me to introduce her to you someday."
Being in a house full of witches was terrifying. I trusted Julian, but I felt like the outcast here- they all looked at me like I was the black sheep, or the guy in Burger King with a McDonald's uniform on. And it wasn't really a house, it was a mansion. There were all these hallways and rooms and hidden stuff. I could just feel it, all the secrets in this place. And they were doing that thing people do in movies, where they stop talking when they see you coming. Almost all of them were younger than me but they looked at me like they hated me, and for all I know they did. I was a regular person in their little magical kingdom, and I was with their Supreme.
"You've definitely got the whole deer in head lights look down," Julian was of course laughing at me, because he knew I wouldn't feel comfortable here. That's probably the only reason he brought me, to shove it in my face that he was a witch and had all these powers.
"I'm fine," I tried to sound like it to, and if I had been talking to anyone else they would have believed me; at least that's what I'd like to think. But this was Julian.
"You can go wait in the car if you want. You don't have to go in with me," he grabbed my hand, firm and gentle, and looked me in my eyes. There was no way I was going to sit in the car. What would he think if I was afraid to meet some psychic?
"I want to do this. It'll be fun," he didn't say anything else, and I wondered again if he had ever stopped reading my mind. It's not like I would know.
"Her name is Annalise," he opened the door and the room was empty, save a girl sitting in the middle of a ring of bowls filled with leaves. She was wearing white. She looked about fourteen. There was no innocence in her eyes.
"Is that your boyfriend?" she didn't get up, but her dress flowed around her like it was alive.
"Yes. This is Noland," Julian said, looking at me.
"He's cute. I didn't know you'd be bringing someone though," she didn't seem to be rattled at all. I don't know where she found her confidence, sitting in front of Julian as if he were just another leaf in one of her bowls.
"Is that a problem?" he asked, taking off his coat.
"Not at all. I just ask that he stay out of the circle. I'm not going to read him, and his emotions are rolling off of him like waves crashing against a cliff side." I suddenly didn't like this girl at all. Didn't like her blue hair or that she talked about me as if I wasn't there or that she said everything like she didn't care about anything.
"Relax, Noland. This won't take long," he kissed me before he went to join her, sitting down across from her. "Sage and lavender."
"Glenda told me about them. She said that they could help me get clearer readings of people, because they remove all the negative lingering energy. But let's get started," she flicked her wrist and the bowls caught on fire. They were small, fragrant flames, pretty to look at, but they didn't relax me. "There is a lot of darkness and fog surrounding you, Julian. There's a disconnect in the deepest parts of you...like all the light had gone away a long time ago..." she started moving her hands over her cards, and for a second I thought that it was all a joke. But then she picked one- or it jumped into her hand. I wasn't sure which.
"The fool. I've never been one to play that card," he leaned back on his hands, confident.
"The fool represents innocence; pure power. Something that isn't good or evil, and has the potential for both. It isn't for you, Julian; it's for him. It's clear that your future and his are intertwined. Be careful how you love the fool, Julian; with him lies the freedom of the world." I definitely didn't feel powerful. If anything I felt small and insignificant. "Death. Don't be afraid; it tells me you've died before, in a way. The death card isn't one to be feared; it speaks of a great change coming your way, one that will transform who you are. However the change may be too much for you to handle, and like so many you may try to fight it. Don't. Welcome death; it's going to come either way."
"What do you mean I've died before?" he seemed curious instead of worried; how right was she? I'd have to ask him about it later.
"That darkness, that disconnect; years ago, it happened. You welcomed death and the person you were ceased to exist. But death has chosen to ride back past you, Julian. Not even you can escape death."
"I've done a pretty good job so far."
"Of course. As good of a job as a person can do, trying to stop an unstoppable- The moon," she gasped when she spoke and the card flew in front of her. "The card of those being deceived, willfully so. The moons light, much like death, shines on the smart and the stupid. But remember the moon doesn't actually make its own light; it reflects the suns. We all are shown the same thing. It's you who chooses whether or not you see things for what they truly are. The pair of you are living under the moons light; maybe it's time you found your way to the sun."
"Is that-"
"Judgement is coming, Julian." she held up one final card. "In your death your past will return, and judgement will take root in whatever still remains of your soul. There is light returning to you, Julian. And when it comes you won't be prepared for how it will change you. You have clung to the darkness for so long that you've tried to call it home. Who will you be when the light comes? That is when you will truly be judged, Julian."
Dun Dun dun!!!!!!! Lots and lots of foreshadowing! Stay tuned for the next installment! you can reach me at nbradFshaw@yahoo.com if you have questions, comments, concerns, or just want to chat!