Forlot: My Name is Witch - Book Hundred-Eight

Chapter One

My name is Witch. I look like your typical witch. Black everything. Pointy hat. Dress. Shoes. Even my pet. I do not have a cat like the rest of my fellow witches. He is a ferret. A reckless ferret darker than the night. But he is filled with tons of love. I wish that I could say the same about the nasty cats. My ferret - my pal - always stands up to them. He tries protecting me and making me feel better.

Every witch's house has a big, black room used only for practicing spells and creating potions and curses. I was alone in the black room and stirring my small pot filled with so many potions that it was flowing onto the table and popping colored bubbles. I was not scared if any of the liquid splattered on me. I use safe potions - most of the time. Some recipes require the toxic ones. But I am careful no matter what. I stopped stirring and stared at my new creation. I sniffed it and smiled.

"Perfect," I said softly. "Absolutely perfect. I did it. The humans and monsters will not know what hit them."

I saw something from the corner of my eye. Something scurrying on the black floor. My ferret. It is hard to see this rascal in darkness unless that you are used to him. He hopped up to me with a sunflower in his mouth.

I kneeled. "Hello, Snoopy. I missed you." I held out my open hand. "Were you in the palace's garden again?"

Snoopy nodded and dropped the flower into my palm.

I wrapped my fingers around the stem and smelled the flower. "Mmm. My favorite flower. Thanks, Snoopy." I rose and laid said flower on the table far away from the pot. "I will put it with the others when I am through." I got back in front of the pot and waved my hands above it. The liquid made my face glow. "I have just perfected the medicine that will kill cancer! Hahaha!"

Snoopy covered his eyes with his little paws.

I gazed back down at him. "Oops. Sorry, Snoopy. Gosh. I really need to stop laughing like a...a..." My mind was blank.

"Like a witch?" a creepy voice finished for me.

My heart jumped into my throat. A small gasp escaped my mouth. I stumbled back and faced the doorway. My aunt stood there with a menacing expression plastered on her face and her hands behind her. Her purple eyes always look like that they are sucking out my life force. Yeah. I am never happy to see her or the other witches. I would go as far to say that I hate them. I hate them so much that I wish that they would vanish. I would make a disappearing potion if I were an advanced witch. But I am not even a witch. It will stay that way.

I straightened out my dress and adjusted my hat. "Um, Aunt Kanika. H-how long have you been there?"

"Oh, I came as soon as I heard your twisted laughs and decided to check how you are doing." She walked up to me, her hands still hiding behind her, and smiled from ear to ear, showing her bright white teeth. If you stared at them long enough, you may go blind. Mine are clean too, but they are not white like hers. "So how is it?"

I was paralyzed with fear. I could just move my mouth. "How is what?"

"How is your curse?" She tilted her head to my pot and took a whiff. "Ah. I smell eyeballs. Liver. A finger. They all belonged to a human. The same human being." Her smile changed to a frown. "Hmm?" She slipped a hand deep into the liquid and pulled out a spider. A rubbery spider. She held it by one leg and poked it. "This spider is fake." Her eyes bulged out of their sockets. "T-this is the spider that your sister gave you on your sixth scary birthday."

This was not the first time that my aunt stuck her hand in a pot of boiling potions.

I tried wiping off the sweat on my hands and also tried coming up with the perfect excuse. But there is no such thing as a perfect excuse when it comes to Aunt Kanika and my other relatives. They learned from the best. My grandmother.

My grandma is the strongest witch in the world. All the witches praise the heck out of her and say how she was a fast learner. She looks young despite her age. She has a few wrinkles because she was getting sick of warlocks asking her on dates.

Grandparents are the last people who will pressure you - but I am not lucky. Mine, especially Grandma, expect the family to be superior like her. But I refuse. I do not want to be a witch. I do not want to perform witchcraft or bow down to evil. I want to be...God's child. I will let Him lead me down the path of life - when I leave. I will fake my death and leave this witch life forever. I do not care where I go. Anywhere must be better than here.

Aunt Kanika spoke sharply. "Well, Witch? You going to explain why your sister's gift was in your bubbling pot? I will get the truth from you one way or another. Talk." She let the spider drop to the table. "I should grab your grandma."

I shook my head violently. I clasped my hands together and swallowed hard.

She placed her hand on the table and leaned against it. "Then tell me."

I hesitated. "...you should know why."

"I should know why you tried ruining a precious gift?"

I suddenly snapped. It was as if a switch had flipped in my brain. "You know how much I hate that spider! You know how much I hate being a witch!"