The Witches on BellaRow Street

13. Let There Be Magic: Part 1

Close your eyes and feel the magic.
*:･ﾟ･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ

I can't believe I hung up on Zion.

For five minutes, I stare at the phone, still shocked, hands trembling, heart racing, contemplating if I should call him back. I need to call him back. Right? It's the normal thing to do. No, Yanni, you'll only make it worse.

My muscles tighten around my throat, and my breathing feels like what happens when you try to control it, a struggle, but what sends me over the edge, while I sit here, waiting for a miracle is this: Zion hasn't called me back.

Why should he call? I wouldn't call me back either. What I did was straight up disrespectful. A new low. But still, it would've been nice.

A clammy chill crawls up my skin as the deepest parts of my soul fight every tear, trying to escape. I'm not ready to cry yet, so I do the next best thing to ease my suffering heart.

"FUCK!" With every fiber of my being, I scream at the top of my lungs, letting my salty choice of word bounce off these four walls. "FUCKKKKK!" And I don't care either. Let them all hear it!

My harsh reality consumes me, causing my body to glow under duress. It's a different kind of glow. I'm feeling everything at once, including my soul magic coursing through my veins. I'm so overwhelmed with grief that I flick my hands up, swirling them, creating an aqua-green stream of water that would've shined in the dark had it been at night. Without thinking, I rotate my fingers, building up my water energy until I can no longer handle the pressure. I need a release. In one unapologetic move, I sway my hands from left to right and throw my water ball at the door until it slams shut. The house quivers at my reaction. Damn, that felt good! But now there's a puddle of water sliding off my door and unto the floor. Screw it! Let it drip.

The room below me fell silent, which means my sisters are listening or wondering if they should come up. Don't.

In a heated fit of anger, I change my clothes, removing the last pieces of my night with Zion, then I put my hair up in a bun, refusing to look in the mirror. If I look at myself, I'll cry, and right now, I have a decision to make.

I'm still on the fence about what we should do, but a moment of clarity hits me once I make my way downstairs. I need to treat this situation as if I'm protecting Zion from harm. Maybe ending the call abruptly wasn't a bad idea but a good one.

However, when I look at all my sisters and our situation, my bitterness comes back.

"So, what's the plan?" There's an edge in my voice as I proceed off the last step. My sisters are standing in the Family room, talking amongst themselves while the television plays in the background.

I guess my tone caught them all off guard because they all stop chatting and stare at me. Each sister shows a different facial expression, but it's Faylayee who's heartsick on my behalf.

"Yanni, are you okay? Oh, my God. What happened?"

I can hear the concern in Faylayee's voice but now is not the time. I'm moody, messy, weightless, sleep-deprived, and distress. Plus, we have less than thirty minutes to decide, so let's cut the bullshit and figure out what to do next. Damn. I'm on edge, let me calm down.

"Fay, I don't want to talk about it," I say her name, but my words are meant for all my sisters. My eyes roam the room, waiting for someone to answer my question. "What's the plan?"

Aunt BeeBee gives me a worrisome look. "I know we mentioned leaving New Orleans earlier, but maybe we overreacted. We're all on edge and not thinking clearly, so..."