Life's A Witch

Chapter Nine

It felt like the longest day of my life.

And the most exhausting. I knew it would be difficult telling everyone what had happened to our parents, but I had no idea it would be like this. In a way, I should have known it wasn't going to be a quick fix. After all, how long had it taken me to simply become coherent again after figuring out what had gone down at the Elm?

After my talk with Fallon, we'd gathered the Cleri members who'd been at the Elm and discussed what we were going to do next. I told them about the dream I'd had of Mom and shared my suspicions that the Parrishables were, indeed, back. Given the circumstances, they couldn't argue with this fact and quickly agreed. But identifying our enemies didn't help to make us feel any better.

"I know this is beyond painful, but we've got to be strong for the others," I said quietly. I studied each of the five faces that sat around the table in my kitchen. "They're going to be devastated and scared. Some are going to fall apart. But we have to pick them up. I think our lives depend on it."

A few people nodded, others sniffled, still trying to get a handle on their emotions. Jasmine, who'd been so strong just a while before, had mascara lines running down her face. I doubted she'd cried in front of anyone else, but it was evidence that she was hurting just like the rest of us. Sascha, who was usually so bubbly, had clammed up and wasn't talking to anyone, and Jinx had her arms wrapped around herself, like the action was the only thing keeping her from crawling out of her skin. Peter seemed to be in shock.

And me, I felt uncomfortable, sad, and helpless. I had no idea how to make any of them feel better, and we'd just agreed that I would be the one to tell the rest of the Cleri—which meant I was about to double the grief in the house.

Once we'd all pulled ourselves together the best we could, we joined the others in the living room. Some had no idea what was going on, while others started crying as soon as they saw us. I choked back my own tears, remembering that the more I held it together, the better off we'd all be.

Then I commenced to give them the worst news they'd probably ever get in their lives. It dawned on me that from here on out, whenever they thought about the day that their worlds came crashing down, they'd be reminded of me. It wasn't exactly the way I wanted to be remembered. But it was too late to worry about that.

Taking Fallon's advice, I told them quickly, sparing them the more graphic details; no reason to give them nightmares on top of their nightmares. They were going to have a difficult time sleeping as it was. I used my powers of persuasion to try and fill the atmosphere with soothing vibes, willing them to feel comfort and a sense of calm as I explained that our parents wouldn't be coming home and neither would we—for a while at least.

"I know that this is hard to hear, but we're all here for you," I said softly. "We're each other's family now. And that means we watch after one another and have each other's backs. I want you to know that I will take care of you. The next couple of days aren't going to be easy and you might want to give up, but just remember, we can get through anything as long as we're together."

As I finished up my speech, I could already feel that my persuasion had managed to help at least a tiny bit. There was still that cloud of sadness hanging over all of us, but it could've been so much worse. I found a bit of solace in the fact that I could be helpful in even the smallest of ways.

In the end, I offered myself up to anyone who needed to talk. A few had questions I didn't have the answers to. Why did this happen? What's going to happen to us now? How long will we feel this way? All I could do was try to answer them honestly, but I worried that I was leaving them with more questions than before. Many people snuck off to separate sections of the house, wanting to deal with the news on their own and crying themselves to sleep.