Dedicated to the only one reading this story besides me :P
Chapter Thirteen
The moment my pen hits the paper, I know that everything will be okay. It doesn't matter that everything around me feels like it's toppling, writing is the one thing that's always been here for me no matter how many times I mess up. I flip the page, opening to an unfinished story, and start to write the ending.
The rain drips off the cherry tree branches above me, soaking me in seconds as I lean against the trunk below. A girl sits beside me, her light blonde hair slowly changing to brown where the water hits. She doesn't speak, but her green eyes pierce me, making me feel like there's something I've forgotten to do. The grass around me is damp where the rain filters through the branches but I stay still, not willing to give up quite just yet.
"Remind me again, why we're waiting out here in the rain, Tyler." I turn my head to face her as annoyance fills her facial features. Rain runs down her forehead, trickling into her eyes, and she shakes her head in frustration.
"She'll come today Becca." The words catch in my throat but I force them out, un-
"Amara? What are you doing here on a Saturday?" I jolt at the voice of Mrs. Reyna, who is leaning over me. "What are you working on?" She asks me, leaning closer to my notebook, before I have time to answer her first question.
"I'm just getting a little bit of work in." I shrug, flipping the notebook closed, and she just shrugs with a nod.
"Well it's nice to see you applying yourself then." I smile to myself at her word choice, and a small smile flickers across her lips. Huh. Who would've known that Mrs. Serious could smile? "How is your tutoring going?" She asks, placing a hand on my desk. Charlie's face comes to mind and I frown. Where is that witch anyway?
"It's alright, we haven't done that much though." I shrug, more to myself than her, and she frowns, looking annoyed.
"Well, we have a test coming up soon, and I expect you to get an A+. Do you understand?" I laugh, nodding with a smile on my face, and she hesitates, hovering over the desk. I tilt my head, looking up at her, and she smiles again.
"Is there something you need?" I ask, trying to sound as sweet as possible. She just laughs, shrugging and backs away a step. Maybe she just needs someone to talk to. It must be lonely living in an all girls’ boarding school.
"No, I should be going actually." Her words are strained and as she smiles, wrinkles gather around her eyes. "Keep studying, Amara." She threatens, a hint of warning slipping into her tone.
"Yes, ma'am." I laugh to myself and she only smiles, shaking her head at me before retreating, leaving me alone in an empty classroom. I look around the room, searching for something interesting to look at within the whitewashed walls, but nothing jumps out at me. The same metal desks and miniature wooden chairs are lined up throughout the room and there is a chalkboard covering the front wall. Sometimes I get really tired of being in a classroom day after day, year after year.
I shake my head, returning to my writing, but it's hard to focus, and I throw down the pen after only a few minutes. What is wrong with me? I can't even write without thinking of Charlie, and witches, and Ellie, and Jenna. I haven’t thought about my homework once in the past week and I'm no closer to passing Geometry than I am to learning how to fly. I look down at what I've written, scanning it, and curse to myself when I find what I've been looking for. Green eyes. Why does Charlie work her way into everything I write? At first I wasn't aware of it, but when I look at what I've written in the last few weeks, there are bits and pieces of her everywhere. It started out small, a girl who had the same color hair or who had a warm voice. Today, she is scattered everywhere, more than usual and I frown to myself as I read what I've written.
YOU ARE READING
Witch Lights (Nanowrimo)
Teen Fiction'They say that power lurks in the most unexpected places. Some girls, like Charlie Frey, are full to the brim with it, and it's obvious to everyone who passes them by. Others, like me, have a hidden light, and it may take a challenge to bring it to...
