If you see me

Chapter One

(Brooke above)

Curling my hair I began to sigh. "I really need to quite my job."

"Yeah, and leave me all alone to work in this whore house of a club."

"Number one this isn't a whore house it's a strip club, a very nice one at that. I'm just tired of dancing around all the time Ashley."

"You use to talk about how much you love dancing, something about feeling free I recall. Secondly you're a witch, why can't you clack your ruby heels together and paint yourself a new life?"

"Very funny, it doesn't work that way my magic goes but so far, and I do love dancing don't get me wrong but sometimes I feel trapped, like life is telling me there's more in life than stripping."

"Save it, you were the one who ran from your mystical group—"

"Coven Ashley, it's called a coven."

"Yeah whatever. You chose this life now all you— we have to do is make the best of it. I'm your best-friend, I'll support you no matter what."

"Thanks Ash."

"No problem chica. Now finish getting ready we have money to make and a booty to shake."

Sometimes I wished Ashley was more understanding. It's not her fault though, being neither supernatural.

FLASHBACK

When I was eighteen I decided to run away from my coven, So I broke into my parents vault and stole fifteen thousand dollars, purchased my plane ticket, made sure I rented myself a hotel room and car. I put a spell on my room that allowed me to wipe away any traces of DNA so that no one could track me. When I reached the airport I smashed my phone, making sure to cut off any contact with my soon to be "past relationships." I put a cloaking spell over my bag of money and "illegal airport weapons."

That night I left New Orleans and fled to the one place I thought my coven wouldn't look, New York. The night of my arrival I stood outside the hotel and sat on a bench. I cried my eyes out, I was alone, a lost puppy, a run away — Why? Well that's a long story for another day.

I decided it was time for me to stop feeling sorry for myself, be strong. I wiped my tears, stood up and made my way to the hotel doors. Too busy wiping away my tears I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings.

"Shit."

"I'm sorry, I . . ." I couldn't barely speak, I felt so humiliated.

"Esta perra loca, you made me drop my— Oh. . . , is everything okay."

"I, I'm okay— I uh." Tears began streaming down my face.

"What's your name?" She asked with a shy smile.

"Brooke." I said with a sniff.

"We'll Brooke something tells me you're not from here and you're in need of a friend."

"What made you come up with that theory."

"Well for one Brooke, your accent is screaming southern, not too strong though which means you're not from around here, and you're crying in front of a hotel. At a time like this I would think you would be home around friends, not walking into a hotel."