The Prophecy

Chapter 3

Miles, what the hell is going on!?"
Were my eyes deceiving me? This perfect stranger was standing right before my eyes, a character I had made up in my own mind (or so I thought).
"Woah, Wendy...chill!"
He looked even more confused than I was.
"How are you here? I dreamt you!"
"Dreamt? Well that's impossible unless you didn-"
"Didn't what!?" I bellowed, I was beginning to become impatient.
"You don't know do you?"
"Let me ask you one question first, Wendy. When you were in the bar with me, did you go to sleep right before that?"
"Of course I did, you are a dream! A figment of my imagination!"
"It's called astral projection, dear."
"What? But I'm not a-"
"A Witch? Well I'm afraid you are. If you weren't, then you wouldn't have been able to find the pub in the first place."
My mouth went dry, my mind blank with anxiety. You could cut the atmosphere on my doorstep with a knife.
"Let me come in, please. I know it's a lot to take in. But you're going to need a friend right about now."
I looked into his eyes, I tried to detect a hint of deceit but alas, nothing. Since I had the alleged power of astral projection, was the power of empathy one too? I didn't know what to say or how to feel. I am a sceptic, I always have been. So why did I believe this stranger on my doorstep, telling me that I'm a Witch no less?
"
Well?" he asked.
"Well, what?"
"Could you detect anything from me?"
He knew what I was doing, was he an empath too? Or was it just so obvious what I was trying to do? Why was I even questioning this? I am not a Witch, I can't be a Witch! My mother is against all things supernatural, I think she would know if I was, and my father...I came back down to reality with a screeching halt.
"It was my father, oh my goodness."
"What?"
"My father was a Witch."
"How do you figure?"
"Well, I don't remember much of my father, but I do remember him talking of nothing but witches, and magic, and my mother, sh..she hated it! God Damn in she was in on it too."
By this time I had allowed Miles to enter my home, for a figment of my imagination, he was very polite. He wiped his muddy black boots on the doormat and took his them off on the landing.
He made a gesture, insinuating that we go upstairs so I let him lead the way. How curious, that this stranger, whom I thought was a figment of my imagination, was in my house? I pinched myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming, he must have noticed that because he turned around, smiled a little and said "you're awake alright, it takes a bit of getting used to." He was very attentive, every move that I made, he paid attention to, and always seemed to know why I was making it.
"Can I ask you a question, Miles?"
"Yes, empathy is a power, and one which you possess no less."
I really wished that he'd stop doing that. However, I couldn't help but be understanding, after all it was my curse too, one which I had been battling with for a long time.
Finally after what seemed like an hour, we reached the top of the stairs. I showed him into my bedroom slightly embarrassed by the fact that my imaginary boyfriend was here. He looked at me as if for permission to sit down.
"Yeah, make yourself at home."
"Thanks."
There was an awkward silence...
"So...um, what do you want to know?"
"Pretty much everything." I laughed, clearly failing at attempting to break the tension between us. He didn't respond but instead looked at me with a look of questionable curiosity. Of course I couldn't blame him for not being very welcoming, he had been dating me for 4 weeks only to find out that I had no idea he existed.
"So, if my father was a Witch, does that mean that my mother is too?" I asked nervously.
"Not necessarily, you could have inherited it from your father's side...although your mum would have to know about it, you know, incase incidents like this happened."
That would explain why my mother was so passionately against it, perhaps she knew what I'd grow up to be and tried everything in her power to stop it from happening, what she didn't realise is that she was simply delaying the inevitable.
"OK. What powers do I have?"
"Well, it's hard to say. Everyone has the ability to possess a range of powers, but from the looks of things I'd day you've definitely mastered astral projection." He laughed. He obviously was now trying to break the tension, and failing.
"Yeah, sounds about right. And I have the power of empathy?"
"Yes, that's right."
"So what powers do you have?"
"Well I am an empath too as I'm sure you've guessed, but I also have the ability to levitate and become invisible."
"Cool."
He looked at me with a look of admiration, as if it was I who had been a Witch all along, and been answering all of his questions.
"What?" He was smiling now, and what a beautiful smile it was, but now was not the time for pleasantries.
"I'm just surprised that you've taken it so well."
So was I, no longer than three minutes ago had I found out I was a Witch, and I'm sitting comfortably on my bed exchanging pleasantries with a boy whom I thought I had imagined.
"I recommend that you speak to your mum. She should be able to answer any questions, including why your father isn't around."
He stood up, and began to put his black leather jacket on his thin, tanned body.
"Are you leaving so soon?"
"Yeah, I have my own demons to battle."
"D..demons?"
He was laughing hysterically now, what had I said that was so funny?
"Inner demons, although we will touch on that subject next time in our Wiccan Wednesday meetings."
I hoped he was joking, but what I sensed from him was truth and fear. I didn't even bother to ask, I didn't even want to know. I escorted my not so imaginary guest down the stairs to the front door where he picked up his boots and put them on, again wiping his feet. This fascinated me, he was so polite, of course it made no sense to wipe his feet on his way out, but nonetheless I didn't want to bring it up and ruin the moment.
"Remember what I said, talk to her."
"I will."
He leaned into the doorway again and planted a small kiss on my cheek, I started to blush; and that plant grew, so very rapidly. I just didn't know it back then.
I closed the door behind Miles, and stood outside the livingroom door for what felt like an eternity, deciding whether or not to interrogate my mother, or not say a thing. My mother was a living albeit great woman, who clearly didn't want me to grow up into a Witch for one reason or another. I never did question that she had a good reason for it too. I walked into the livingroom, both hands behind my back because my hands shaking erratically.
"Hello, dear. Who was that young man?"
"This is no time for pleasantries mum, I need to talk to you."
I sensed fear from her, and copious amounts of it. She knew what I was there for.
"You knew."
"Dear, sit down and we will talk about this."
"No I don't want to, I want to know why you kept me from knowing that I was a Witch! And dad was one too, I know it."
"Wendy.. your father wasn-"
"Save it mum, I can sense your fear and guilt."
I sat down on the couch and decided to cooperate with my mother, I let her tell her side of the story. She told me how my father was in constant danger from demons and she hated it, so she had no choice but to hide it from me.
"But why did dad leave, did you kick him out? Forbid me from seeing him?"
I was angry now, really angry. I Couldn't control my emotions. Suddenly the clock on the wall blew up. It must have been my powers; was there any other explanation?
"No...dear, your father and I had a quarrell when you were little, he wanted to go after a demon...Croyfe, he's a very powerful and very dangerous demon...I told him not to, so I did. I told him not to go up against him..."
She was crying now, her face flooded with tears. Had something happened to my father? Was he dead? I could only think the worst.
"What happened?"
"Well, he told me that if he didn't go after the demon then we were all in danger, he walked out...to go after him. I...I haven't seen him since. I've been in touch with fortune tellers, seers and oracles using some of his potions from his alter room...but no such luck. Wendy, I fear that something bad has happened to him, a fate worse than death..."