my name is Lamia

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖓𝖊 - 𝖒𝖆𝖌𝖓𝖔𝖑𝖎𝖆

For an eternity of my life, I've been spending my Sundays in a small tea shop in Rye. My aunties and I have been sitting there, for hours and looked at the people walking by. The woman who owned the shop, Magnolia Howe my godmother, had been baking cookies specifically for me every Sunday morning. Sometimes she gave them to the other customers, she called them the "la mia's". Which is french for "the mia's". My name wasn't mia, it was lamia. After a greek vampire monstrous, the daughter of Poseidon and the Libya, later a lover of Zeus. My parents didn't choose this name for me, Magnolia did. She had always been a big part of my life, a part of my family, She wasn't even related to me, still, she somehow was. Magnolia was my mother's midwife and handmaiden, back in 1855. Yes, my mother gave birth to me in 1855. What year it is now? 1955, and I am still sixteen. Well, I look like sixteen, but actually, I'm 99, soon 100. Magnolia was a witch, so were my aunties and my mother. My father on the other hand was a vampire. They say vampires live forever unless they are killed. And that happened to my parents, they died in a fire. They didn't survive the witch trials. Every generation in our family had lost witches during trials, it's like a curse. Our heritage almost died during the big Salem witch trials back in 1663. Luckily my aunties managed to escape with me to Rye, a small town near Fairlight, England. As a little girl I always called it Fairylight, it sounded so magical. Not like my life wasn't already magical enough, but it wasn't full of hunting and fear. When you're born a witch, with vampire genes, you have to be good at keeping secrets, you have to be the secret. You'll get used to it, but the ones around you won't get used to you not aging. So our coven moves out of town every couple decades to come back, when the villagers we knew died already. As a teenager I wouldn't understand why I had to leave my friends, just to come back at their funeral.

My daydreams were interrupted by a soft and gentle but deep voice: "Hey honey, I haven't seen you in weeks. how is your cold doing?", James was standing behind me, his hand on my shoulder. "It's long gone, but thanks I am fine!", I smiled at him. "I'll see you at the library, don't be late!", he hold his finger up. I giggled as he left. James was Magnolias Husband, and kind of a father figure for me. He teached rune and historical studies at the library on sundays, and sometimes I helped him out. Like a personal assistent for teachers. The good thing about living over decades is, that you experience a lot of history. So being a history teacher makes a lot of sence. I personally would love to work in the tea shop one day or the pharmacy. Why? Well I'm good at... let's call it brewing stuff. My aunties teached me a lot. I was home schooled, that's a lot easier then dealing with aging at a public school, and it gives them the choice about the things they want me to know. So while other teens learn how to calculate a scope, I learn how to brew positions, do magic, defend myself physically and in depates. I knew all i needed as a witch, but there was one wish left, finally becoming a vampire.