A Witch's Confession

2

January 4, 1928:

Me again. Writing from the woods. They are certainly terrifying, knowing now what they are capable of containing. I fear returning home. I don't want the werewolves to hurt my family. But I need magic. My father will know how to fix this, I hope. I haven't slept since I ran away from the school.

I decided to head back home. I am mostly afraid of the disappointment my parents will have in me. Now navigating the city, and laying low. I know it was risky, but I did a cloaking spell. Goddess, please work.

I decided to find Salem. My family is not safe with me around. I must find our coven.

The woods close to my childhood home hadn't ever felt so gloomy, terrifying, and dark. I ran as fast as my legs would take me against the soft, muddy ground, caking the underneath of my boots with a layer of mud. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I ran towards the tiny white home placed at the end of the cul-de-sac in the Ohio neighborhood.

A bird screeched and sent me tumbling into the bushes, afraid I was being ambushed. I knew by now, word would have travelled to my dad explaining exactly what was going on. He would know the werewolves were most likely following me.

My mother would know the right words to say to comfort me. She would know the right tincture to make to cloak our home. We would be safe, I know it. I dreaded the sight of my disappointed parents. I know they are going to be so upset when they find out I took the nearly deemed sacred journal with me. But I just felt so drawn to it... I really couldn't help it.

A part of me wanted to turn away, to run the opposite direction from my house and disappear forever. I knew my mom, brother, and dad, would all be waiting anxiously for my arrival. My father was probably pacing the hallways, trying to fabricate a plan to keep us safe. My mother already elaborating and constructing the plan to flee. My heart hurt. I wish we had a coven to rely on. We would feel a lot safer if we just had a coven. Witches are always stronger in groups.

The sight of our purple front door came into view. There was a white candle burning in the window on the candle holder that held a depiction of a werewolf. I knew exactly what that meant. My family was warning other witches in the area that werewolves were near. I stopped in the brush. I was unsure if I wanted to step foot inside my home. It would change everything. I looked to the right and again to the left, and only silence fell in the woods. I really could go my own way, and not bother them. But I felt like I owed my family an explanation to my neglectful actions.

The front porch creaked as I tiptoed across. The 1900s home shuddered at all the energy from the family of witches inside. My mother had a whirlwind of energy created in the house to guard it.

I knocked three times. Silence. An icy breeze blew throughout the home. Suddenly, the heavy door swung open and I first saw my dad. I couldn't act strong anymore. I completely fell apart. I ran into his arms, sobbing. My brother came around the corner and joined in the hug. Soon, my mom hugged me as well.

"I am so sorry. I shouldn't have taken the journal." I cried into his chest.

"It will be okay, Zoe. We have figured it out for centuries, and we will figure it out again." My mother patted me on the shoulder. I wiped my eyes and looked at all of them, standing silently in the dining room.

"I will do whatever it takes to fix this."

My dad opened the journal to the charmed portion. "I can only think to try and remove the charm." He rubbed his temples, trying to think of a spell. I studied the pages, feeling perplexed by the charm. My mom opened her mouth to suggest something, but soon closed it and went back to thinking.