The Witches on BellaRow Street

6. Is It A Bad Time?

I am the rhythm beyond the beat.
*:･ﾟ･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ･ﾟ*

"Shit."

Yes, shit. Aunt BeeBee's choice of words encapsulates the mood, sets the tone, and sums up everything we're feeling right now. Miss Voule's is less than fifteen and a half steps from discovering our secret, our problem, our shit show.

"What do you need me to do?" I whisper, ready to submit under Aunt BeeBee's leadership since everything starts with her. My words have a double meaning, but she understands that Miss Voule has become a liability.

"BeeBee? Yanni?" shouts Miss Voule. "What's going on back here? I can't see a thing..."

I don't want to hurt Miss Voule, but if I have to, then I must do what I have to do. Besides, what's one more dead body in the alley? Damn, now I sound like Junie. I don't have an ounce of ride-or-die blood in me, but even I'm shocked by my thoughts.

Twenty seconds left.

Aunt BeeBee glances at me and mouths the word, no.

No? Does that mean she'll attack Miss Voule, instead? An uncomfortable bubble feeling pulls at my gut, causing my stomach to twist in knots. I want to lie down, ball up into a fetal position and rock myself to sleep, but I can't.

Aunt BeeBee exhales one last time, then utters, "Miss Voule, don't move." The bass in her voice gives me goosebumps. "I don't think it's wise to witness anything that may be incriminating. Meaning you need to turn back around and leave."

She's right. Miss Voule isn't about this life.

A pair of heels skids to a stop. After a long pause, the Queen clears her throat, ready to give us an answer. "Bee, I sensed Zetish magic a few blocks ago, so you might as well tell me what's going on. Maybe I can help you."

Aunt BeeBee releases a shaky breath. "Miss Voule... Charles, listen to me. I don't think it's a good--"

A pair of heels stumps towards us, ignoring our warning and marching full speed ahead. Miss Voule is on a mission to figure out what we're hiding. Once she comes into view, she stares at us, quirking a brow, and looking for anything out of place, then she scans the entire alley, searching for the cause of Aunt BeeBee's aggravated facial expression. And judging by Miss Voule's reaction, the man in the corner is unlike anything she's ever seen.

Miss Voule wobbles back, gasping for air. "What the hell is that?!" she asks, gazing at the 'dead body' by the dumpster.

Aunt BeeBee remained calm, inching closer to the body."It's our problem."

"A problem? No, No, see, leaving your house keys in the door after you've walked in--that's a problem. But, this--- why didn't you stop me!"

In the middle of Miss Voule's redundant speech, the assailant wiggles a finger and murmurs, "Helpppp..."

Miss Voule clutches her imaginary pearls, choking on her words. "Is he...Is he alive?! Oh, hell Nah!"

"He's supposed to be dead," says Aunt BeeBee. The dryness of her tone makes my throat itch.

"Girl, what happened?" whispers Miss Voule, staring at the not so dead body.

For a brief moment, we stand there in silence, ignoring the million-dollar question as Miss Voule absorbs the scene, and hopefully calculating our next move.

A heel clicking against the ground, snaps us out of our daze. Miss Voule's friend calls her name, sending us into a wild frenzy.

"Miss Voule! Your show starts in fifteen minutes!" screams one of her friends.