WITCH - ARA

Twenty nine

I sit on the couch, my eyes fixed on the wall where the photo of me and my stepmom hangs. My thoughts keep spiraling back to everything Ms. Elara told me. All this time, I hated my birth mom for leaving me with a terrible woman, for abandoning me. But now… now I understand why. The truth hits me hard, and tears roll down my cheeks. She was trying to protect me all along.

Yovan was my protector, like she said. That’s why he said all the answers are with me. I think of those fire-etched lines, Blaze, thousands of witches' blood runs in your veins, and you're the power he wants. I feel a spark, a new kind of energy coursing through my veins. It's like a reminder of who I am, of the strength I carry within me.

But as quickly as that strength rises, the weight of guilt pulls me back down. Everyone blames me for the death of my best friend and Ava’s disappearance. Maybe they’re right. Maybe if I had prevented Ava and Si from going into the woods, none of this would have happened. If I weren’t a witch, everything would’ve been fine now. Normal. Safe.

Anger starts to boil inside me, burning hotter with every passing second. Whoever took Ava and killed Si—they’ll pay. I’ll make sure of it. I feel the resolve solidify in my chest, they won’t get away with this. I won't let them.

Still staring at that framed photo, I stand up, my fists clenching at my sides. I march toward it, the anger clouding my vision. I grab the frame, feeling its weight in my hand, and then I slam it down hard onto the ground. The glass shatters, and I feel a sharp sting as a shard slices my finger. I hiss, but I don’t care. I just watch as the pieces of the photo scatter across the floor, the image of my stepmom’s smiling face split and broken.

She doesn’t deserve to smile. None of them do.