Dance of the Moons

Chapter 20

This might be a confusing chapter.  I'm really exhausted and my eyes are burning a little so I might wake up tomorrow and realize this is all gibberish.  But it's probably fine, right?  Someone complain if it isn't.

Anyway, here is.  Hope you all enjoy. Thanks for reading!

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Chapter 20

            “Leila,” a voice whispered to me in the darkness, pulling me out of my sleep. “Leila, wake up.  We have to talk.”

            I felt someone shake my shoulder.

            Groaning, I opened one eye to the darkness.  I recognized my mother’s aura.  I could see the black outline of her body leaning over me.  I looked to the small bedside clock beside me.

            I groaned again. “Mom, it’s 3:45 in the morning.”

            “I know, but we need to talk.”

            “Now?  Really?”

            “Yes, now.”

            Heaving one last groan, I lifted my protesting body into a sitting position.  Leaning over, I fumbled with my bedside lamp and clicked it one.  My eyes burned for a moment at the shocking brightness.

 My eyes were squinting as I looked my mother.  She was sitting straight up on the edge of my bed.  I could see a slight discoloring around her throat.  Shame and guilt burned through me as I realized I was the cause of that.  I had nearly destroyed my mom’s vocal cords only a few hours previous.  I deserved much worse than being woken up before dawn.

I started to reach out toward her but stopped.  My hand stilled in midair between us.  Two pairs of eyes watched my hand drop back into my lap.

“I’m sorry,” I croaked.

“I’m sorry, too,” she replied. “I’ve kept things from you.  There are things I should have told you.”

I shook my head.  “Like what?”

“Well, your father and I have known for a long time now that you’re much stronger than average.  Your mental capabilities have a potential beyond even your fathers and my sister’s.  You have the potential to be the strongest mental witch in North America.  Maybe more, but no one is really sure.”

My voice caught, although I wasn’t really too surprised.  I had always known I was a strong mental witch.  Whereas I struggled to light a fire with my hands, I could enter other minds when I was seven.  Even though, it was frightening to be told directly what I has suspected for a while.  For her to say I could be the strongest mental witch in North America, however, seemed to me to be an overestimation of my potential.  Still, I didn’t say anything.

“I wanted to see your potential,” she continued. “That’s why I was so adamant about you going to a witch academy to further your studies instead of going to this human school you attend.”

I remembered the fights we had for months about where I would go after high school graduation.  Mom demanded I attend one of the three witch academies in the world and I had refused.  I wanted to study “silly mundane human things” as my mother called them.

“But your father finally made me give in to your wishes.  He argued for your happiness and said you had to stay home in order to meet your, well, destiny.”  The way she emphasized destiny made it seem like she wasn’t convinced of such a thing for me.