Fears

Prologue ~ A Child's Imagination

As a kid I was convinced I had magical powers because every time the adverts came up on Disney Channel, I'd turn to Nickelodeon. And I could always flick back to Disney right before the show resumed.

I never let this idea disappear from my head, and my childhood was filled with wands and hats and spells and potions and cauldrons and turning my cat into various mythical creatures.

As I grew up, I continued to prove to people I was magical and could use telekinesis to move things with my mind. I filled notebook upon notebook full of drawings and spells and things that could come in handy one day. I just would not let this thought go, that I truly was some form of witch or warlock.

When I was 9, and turning the cat green for the third time, my mother reckoned it was time for me to grow out of this "phase" and take my first steps into the "real world". She packed me a brown leather briefcase full of clothes, toiletries, toys, and books and sent me on my way. 

As I sat on a train next to a tall man with a trenchcoat and a fedora, I thought about where he was taking me. He tucked my bag between his legs and stared straight ahead. I was bored. I wanted to get my colouring book out, or play chess with him, but he wasn't interested. 

As I focused my gaze on the window, and the landscape flashing by, I started to imagine. I imagined a world of faeries, witches, monsters, demons, ghosts, vampires, werewolves, clowns, and dragons. I imagined what it would be like to try and survive. I imagined how I would kill them all and save the world. I imagined what it would be like if I got to kill monsters and evil spirits and save people's lives. 

A harsh nudge on my shoulder brought me back from my daydreaming state. The strange man was walking off the train with my bag in his hand. I chased after him, not allowing myself to get distracted and lose him among the sea of strangers. After pushing my way through the crowds, and tripping over my own feet numerous times, i managed to catch up to his fast walking speed.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked him, finally bucking up the courage after sitting awkwardly in a train carriage for so long.

He ignored me the first time around.

"I asked you a question. Where are we going?" I grew angry and impatient. I grasped his elbow and asked him again, "where are you taking me?" A slight growl came from the back of my throat as I made that bitter remark.

"Madam Watson has ordered me to bring you to your father's house. She said you need to be put in your place and stop all this witch-y nonsense."

I stood there in utter disbelief, my mouth agape, and let go of his arm. 

"I- I shouldn't have said that. I don't- I don't know what came over me, I-"

"My... my father?" No, it couldn't be. I was told that my father died in a horrendous accident before I was even born! "No. No, this can't be true," I muttered as we walked to a taxi cab. My father is dead. My father is dead. My father is dead. This is just a dream. No - this is a nightmare. I'm going to wake up now in my mother's arms and she will sing me to sleep. My father is dead. I can't be expected to live with a stranger claiming to be my father. My father is dead. I am going to wake up any minute now and my brother and I are going to play in the garden with our soldier figurines. My father is dead. I know my father is dead, where has he been all my life otherwise? My father is dead and I know it. My father is dead. My father is dead. My father is dead.