The Cabret Expectations: Series of Essays, Short Stories, and Poems

SHORT: Some of Her Blood

Perhaps, I made the right decision when I killed my Sisters' parents. It was what I needed. We're on the same ground-kill me or they'd be killed-but I was too clever and too good to be a fool. They're wicked and greedy. The Spirits know it. But Lisa? Eleanor? They don't need to know. They're next.

The sky is dark and everything is under control. Lisa, the Prime Sister, is starting to chant the prayers inside the Circle. It's something that I hated. She acts like she knows everything! Like she's better than anybody. And Eleanor? She's despicable. She has this stupid and lame attitude of being so nice that I can't even prove to the Primes that I deserve to be a part of the Coven.

"You sure they won't find this out?" asks Eleanor as she clasps my left hand. I eye the grave inside the Circle with excitement. This will be my lucky day.

"Just stop asking," I say.

Lisa is now aggressively changing her pitch and tone and I immediately stiffen my poise. The white dust of the Circle is starting to move with the wind in a clockwise direction. For sure the ground and the spirits are ready. All there's left to do is to wait for Lisa's signal when to start the chanting of the final spell. But I'm not anticipating for the outcome of this necromancy. I'm waiting for the perfect time to end their ignorance.

"You clearly know the words ferendae sententiae, right?" asks Eleanor. She has a point, but no. The Church will never know. I mean, I want to, if only I weren't a part of this coven-if they were the only ones who were part of this act of Catholic defiance. She's dumb! She clearly knows that she's a witch and now she's afraid of being excommunicated?

Instead of answering Eleanor's fears, I take a deep breathe.

The greedy witch inside the Circle is now floating a couple of feet above the earth, giving us the signal to start the chant. We circle the powdered line, taking the opposite directions as we sing. I can feel the earth shaking. I can feel my blood rushing with excitement. I can sense freedom-freedom from slavery.

"Orior, belua! Orior!" exclaims Lisa, but when the words hit her, Eleanor gasped in horror.

"Yes, Eleanor," I say with sarcasm. "She's creating a monster."

She speeds up to meet me at the final point of the Circle in front of the grave. "Cécile, what's this?"

"She wants to prove to the whole coven that she's the most powerful witch. So pathetic!"

"Cécile!" exclaims Eleanor. "She's just depressed."

I don't care! I just want her powers, strength, and her voodoo expertise. I'm sick of being treated as the weakest. Like I'm different from them. Besides, we're all different from the rest of the townspeople. Lisa? She's the worst of all!

We head for Lisa at the center of the Circle for the final chant. Lisa joins us as she repeatedly calls the name of her dead mother's body. I can feel the ground trembling. Not too long, the soil of her mother's grave starts to rise. I'm thinking that maybe the spell worked out. The smell of the rotten body fills the air and all I can think of as of this moment is the word betrayal.