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Missy was a witch.
She still couldn't process that. Missy spent most of her life feeling, knowing she wasn't special. She spent hours the night before combing over her moms books in the attic. Some of them were practical books, written by New Age and Wicca believers and practicians about the history of witchcraft and how it's important for modern women to embrace their divine power, blah, blah, blah. Sure, she respected everyone's beliefs, but those people weren't telling her what to do when you find out you had been lied to your entire life and now have freaky magic powers flowing through you. She was looking for a book of shadows, like in that 90's show Charmed, or maybe a little note from her mom saying that all she has to do is say "Abracadabra" and get everything she'd ever wanted.
Sadly, she found nothing. Well, not nothing. She found a journal, written by her mother. She supposed it could be called a book of spells, but it was mainly notes and thoughts. From what Missy could gather, most magic was pretty simple. In her mind she chose to quote Halloweentown : "Magic is really very simple, all you've got to do is want something and then let yourself have it."
Missy tried that. She tried picturing a cupcake with whipped frosting, something she really wanted, but that other part, the having it part, she was struggling with.
Missy was currently sat on the floor in her picture perfect pink bedroom, flipping through one of her mothers journals. She had found a few in a trunk that her brother helped her bring down from the attic. She sat with her back against the trunk trying to understand her mothers random notes and spells. It was the morning after she had found out about the whole witch business, and Missy hadn't slept a wink. She spent most of the night organizing the things she found in the trunk. There was a small pile of clothes stored inside. She automatically put the brown striped cardigan and light colored mom jeans on as soon as she pulled them out. On a normal occasion she would never wear brown, but inside the trunk was a picture of her mother wearing the exact same clothes. Missy needed that connection to her mom in that moment. It helped her remember her mom was more than just a witch, more than just the spells and notes and thoughts she found scribbled in the journals.
Groaning Missy tossed aside the journal she had been reading. Her mom seemed to have been very advanced in magic in her time. Missy needed to find something that explained the beginning, how her mom started off. There were a total of 7 journals, Missy had flipped through two already, finding nothing inside she could understand. She looked over the other five. From what she had gathered, even the weakest witches had what her mother referred to as "the feelings". While it wasn't anything that sounded cool, she knew she had that at least. Ever since Locklyn had turned over the summer, she had "feelings" of things changing, trouble and danger coming. Then there was the "Knowing", another super original name, which Missy had just experienced the previous night. Knowing things without any proof, but being correct, was the next stage of what her mother said was the beginning of a witch's powers being activated. A note she found in the first book said her mothers own powers began showing at the age of 10.
