Once Upon a Witch's Moon

Once Upon a Witch's Moon: Part 1 - Ch 3

CHAPTER THREE

Twist didn't touch the sugar bowl, the monthly calendar on the wall that kept track of all their schedules, or the refrigerator door, which were all positively glittering with hopeful thought dust. Her mom and dad had definitely cooked up some "help Twist adjust" plan. Not that she could clue her mom in on the fact that Twist already knew about the plan thanks to the thought dust that only she could see. She sighed. "Good morning, mom."

She had never, and would never, tell them that she could see the thoughts people leaked onto the objects they held or touched. Shortly after they'd moved to Maine, her mom had sent her to a shrink to help her get rid of the nightmare, and the worry around the house had been impossible to avoid.

Even though she'd pretended the nightmare had gone away, some of their worry still lingered. They wanted her to remember her first eight years. But they were afraid that she might, too. Remembering would mean a loss that none of them were sure they could survive.

"Good morning," her mom said. "Sleep well?"

"Like a baby," she lied. It was a habit she hated, but a necessary one if she didn't want to worry her parents.

Prepared to skip breakfast and take a little longer in the hen house to avoid whatever it was that her mom was planning today, Twist stifled a groan when she saw the basket of eggs and the thermos of fresh milk on the counter. "You didn't have to do my chores, Mom." Not to mention cut off her escape route and her chance to toss the marble figure in the bay.

"Don't be silly. I always do the chores your first week of school, don't I?" Dark veins of worry cut deep into the silver-flecked thought dust at her mother's fingertips. "Besides, now we have time to talk. I want to run an idea by you." Her mom spoke casually. Way too casually for the contrasting slate and silver of her thoughts.

"Shoot." Twist fixed a bowl of cereal and braced herself for her mother's encouraging words about making friends and getting involved in school activities. She gave this lecture the first day of school every year. Some years Twist had taken the hope to heart, and tried to make friends. But it never turned out well. This year, well, she'd decided to try for normal. Look normal, sound normal, and never let anyone know she wasn't.

"It just occurred to me that you're going to turn sixteen next month." Her mom let that hang in the air.

Twist eyed the thought dust and wondered if she should eavesdrop. Maybe this was good news. Getting her driver's license? Maybe a car? She didn't want to get her hopes up. Her parents were practical in the extreme. She said casually, as if she didn't care, "Time flies, even when you're younger than everyone else in your class."

Her mom winced with quickly suppressed guilt. Twist's age was as much a mystery as her origins, but her parents had made an educated guess and then created the records to support it. They hadn't realized it would make Twist the youngest in her class.

Baby, a few classmates had called her last year, when they were learning to drive, turning sixteen, getting licenses. She'd consoled herself that she'd be out a year sooner, and driving wasn't that big a deal.

But now, less than two months before she was due to turn sixteen, she could feel the siren call of a driver's license - being able to grab the keys, climb behind the wheel and go - go anywhere she wanted, and stay as long as she decided to stay. Maybe she'd even outdrive the nightmare, if she were lucky.

Outside, the wind whined to get in the window over the sink. The whine played through her nerves. She didn't want to want anything this year. Wanting something too much led to trouble.

Her mom was watching her closely, her hands deep in sudsy dish water as she said, "Every girl needs a Sweet Sixteen party."

Twist's dreams of driving off into the sunset flamed up and turned to ash. She tried to keep her expression neutral.