Freya Hale only wanted to have a normal life. Everyone had always said that there was something different about her. It only took someone special for her to realize that they were all right.
The next morning comes much sooner than I thought it would. Then the next morning. Now it's Monday. The spare room in the Spellman house is quaint and cute. It makes me feel safe. Aunt Hilda had laid out some of the clothing that my sister had dropped off the day before. I grab the dress and decide against the hat that has been placed next to it.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I make my way downstairs and everything smells wonderful. I knew that Aunt Hilda was amazing in the kitchen, but I had never had the chance to enjoy it. Attached to the kitchen is a little dinning table with six seats.
"Good morning Aunt Hilda. Aunt Zelda." I say. Hilda whips around and gives me a big hug. "Good morning sweetheart. How did you sleep?" She asks brushing the hair out of my face. "Like the dead." I lie. "Thank you both again for letting me stay here." Aunt Zelda lowers the paper she's reading. "You are one of our own now. No matter how much trouble my niece gets you in, you're a member of this coven and a member of this family." She says before going back to her paper. I nod and take a seat at the table.
"You invite her stay over and now she takes my seat?" Ambrose says waltzing into the kitchen. I blush and go to move but he puts a hand on my shoulder stopping me. "I'm just toying with you. Nice dress by the way." He says taking a seat next to me. Aunt Hilda comes and pours us some tea. The next five minutes are filled with small talk. But then the room goes silent. It isn't until I turn around that I understand why. Sabrina is up.
"Morning." Sabrina sighs, feeling the tension. "Blessed Morning child." Hilda mumbles. "Morning Brina." I say softly. Ambrose gives her a nod. Sabrina takes the seat at the head of the table between me and Zelda. She attempts to look at Zelda from behind her paper, but Zelda is not having any of it. The rest of us just watch in anticipation of what's about to go down.
"Please, Aunt Zelda, are you never going to speak to me again?" Sabrina asks. Zelda folds the paper she's reading and slams it down on the table. "You want me to speak? All right, I'll speak." She says taking a long drag off of her cigarette. "You humiliated us in front of the entire coven. You dishonored the Spellman family name-" "Father Blackwood lied Aunt Zelda." Sabrina pleads. "Beyond that," Zelda says raising her voice. "Your refusal to sign the book of the beast goes directly against your father's wishes. You have also now dragged Freya into this. Why couldn't you have just signed your name along with hers?" Zelda scolds.
No. Nope. Please don't bring me into this.
This obviously struck a nerve with Sabrina because she got up and stormed out. "Where do you think you're going, love?" Hilda asks. "School." Sabrina says before fleeing up the stairs. I go to follow but Zelda reaches across the table and grabs me hand.
"Not for you Freya. Unlike Sabrina, you actually signed your name, like you were supposed too. You have other things to worry about. I've talked with your sister. She and I agree that you should spend some time living here. This was you can learn in a safe environment with other witches." She explains. "Wait- Parker said this? She's letting my move in for- for how long?" I ask. "As long as you need." Ambrose says looking up. I just nod.
While Sabrina is off living her normal life at school, I'm in the Spellman's guest room, well my room, unpacking boxes of my stuff. It was an emotional time going home. Let's just say I accused Parker of trying to get rid of me, but that clearly wasn't the case. This lead to a huge fight which ended with us crying on the floor in the living room. In the end I understand her choice. This was a new and scary time. The last thing I want is to accidentally hurt Parker or Mason or Winter. They all mean too much to me.
I finish hanging the last of my clothes and move to the box of books that's sitting on my bed. I've always loved books. Poetry is my favorite. I've always been attracted to the romantic poets. Edgar Allan Poe has always been my favorite. I pick up my anthology of his poems and flip through the pages on my bed.
"Penny dreadful for your thoughts?" Ambrose asks. I look up to see him standing in my doorway with a carrot in his hand and an iguana on his shoulder? "Well first of all... I didn't know that you had an iguana." I laugh. He looks confused for a second. As if he had forgotten the giant lizard sitting on his shoulder. "Oh. Just looking after it for a friend. He doesn't frighten you, does he?" He asks. I shake my head. "No, I love all reptiles. All animals as a matter of fact." I say putting the book down on my bed.
He sticks his head in and takes a glance around the room. "Seems like you are making yourself at home." He comments. "A big fan of Poe I take it?" He asks nodding towards the anthology. "Yeah he's one of my favorites. I could read hundreds of books, but I will always find myself back reading his poetry." I explain. This suddenly peaks his interest. "I have a rather large collection of poetry in my room if you would like to check it out sometime?" He says with a smile.
"Inviting me to your room are you?" I ask with a smile. He smiles and looks down. "I wasn't insinuating if that's what you were wondering." He takes another step into my room and looks into the box of books on my bed. "Which one is your favorite?" He asks. "As if I could choose just one. As if you have a favorite?" I tease. "I do actually." He defends. "Oh really?" I say raising an eyebrow.
"Catcher in the Rye." He says with a smile on his face. "Mmm. You have terrible taste." I laugh. He gives me a look of disgust. "You're telling me that you don't enjoy the classic?" He asks. I shake my head. "You couldn't pay me to read that garbage." I retort. We spend the next 30 minutes arguing about books and just laughing. It was nice to be honest. I really needed a break from all the Satanic stuff in my life. We were sitting on my bed, the Iguana in my lap talking about who we think the real author of Shakespeare's plays are when Aunt Zelda yells from the kitchen.
