Once Upon a FairyTale

Chapter Six: Odette

 I let out the deepest sigh I've ever let out once this house was finished. As much as I think my magic is a curse, it's honestly a blessing. I've always found it to be rather useful in times of need... and want.

"Okay..." I stated, backing my van into a perfect spot for my car. I unlatched the tow dolly from my van and pushed the old, rundown, car into the shade so I could work on it. I moved the van into the drive way, back end at the door so I can unpack my stuff.

I snapped my fingers and changed into jeans, a white shirt, and a bandana before unpacking my things. Each box that was in the back of my van consisted of various books and ingredients to potions, potions themselves, old, old, books, and some of my clothes. I never settle down for too long. I don't want to get caught with magic. Well, it's not dark magic. It's light. And, honestly, I didn't mean to hit the person. They came out of nowhere.

The reason why I'm stay is, something feels... weird about this place. I'm not sure what. But, I intend too. It felt as if there was another magical presence here. Maybe I'm not the only one.

I carried the boxes inside my new home one at a time. And once my van was empty and parked in an okay area, I unpacked all of the boxes. The basement was good. I was not going down there to put my things. There could be rats and roaches down there. They could eat my books and do something to my potions and ingredients

I placed each item on an empty shelf. Whence I filled each shelf, I put a cloaking spell so it'd change the child's laughter into bottled seashells and it changed the witchcraft book into The Grimm Brothers' Book Of Fairy Tales.

"Perfect." I smiled and clapped my hands. I picked all the boxes up and threw them down the stairs. I walked back into the living area and nodded. "Just like home..." I nodded, grabbing an ancient book that's been handed down from every generation in my family. It was very, very old. Rumor has it, The Grimm Brothers' wrote this book and there's two of them. But, only half of that is a myth. There's only one.

"Hello," A voice whispered in my head as soon as I opened the book. I shook it off as nothing. "It's here."

"What's here?" I spoked, feeling the tattered pages of the book that was sitting in my lap. It was an old spell that had a drawing on the opposing page. The pages were torn from another book and easily taped or pasted on it. I've never done the spell. Not once. It seems too dark for my taste in magic. Who knows, maybe it'll bow up the earth.

"The book!" The voices sounded childlike.

"That's a myth. There's only this one." I remarked, running my hand through my hair. "There were never two spell books." I shook my head at the book that seemed as if it was speaking to me. That sounds weird.

"But it's true."

"It's not." I slammed the book shut and throwing it on the coffee table in front of me. I pulled my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around my legs. "There's only one book. I'm sure of it." I whispered to myself before standing up and going outside. It was raining.