Moon Witch

Maggie

Maggie scoffs at the exaggerated cardboard cutout witch taped to the storefront window. The nose almost a foot long and covered in warts. The smiling mouth a cavern filled with rotted, yellow teeth. An emaciated black cat at the heels of the boots with curled toes. Maggie scoffs again, rolling her eyes and adjusting the bag of groceries on her hip. She's begun to hate Halloween, a holiday once held dear in her heart. She never paid mind to the atrocities she and her fellow witches face year after year until she grew up. Yes, of course, growing up ruins everything.

Silently, she wishes for the simplicity of youth as she continues walking home, following the cracked downtown sidewalk on the same path she takes nearly every day. Somewhere behind her, car tires screech and the driver blares the horn. She doesn't look back, in fact, she keeps her eyes downcast, not willing to look behind her. Curiosity eats away, but she can't stand to see one more green-skinned decoration.

She arrives home before the first stars of nightfall begin to fill in the horizon line, and with a flick of her wrist, as she ascends the steps to her front porch, the Jack-o-lanterns come alive. Bright orange flames flicker joyfully behind carved mouths filled with pointed teeth. She opens the storm door, propping it open against her hip, and before she opens the front door, she snaps her fingers. A sharp, bitter sound that echoes through the air of the small town, and the string lights attached to the eves of the house shine bright. Little purple bats covering white fairy lights. Smiling to herself over her tasteful decorating, Maggie steps inside the cozy little house she shares with her husband.

She's greeted at the door by her familiar, a raven called Tobias. He sits on his perch by the door, watching her, head cocked to the side. Intelligent black eyes dart over her face, and when he's satisfied that the intruder is indeed his witch, he flies to the kitchen to perch on top of his cage. Maggie follows, eager to put the bag of groceries down on the table. Her husband, Julien, stands in front of the stove, stirring something that smells tantalizing.  Maggie's mouth begins to water.

"I thought you would have ordered out," She says, putting the groceries on the table. She begins to put them away. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Julien shrug.

"Curry sounded good, but not from takeout. Aside from that, I thought we could have a meal together tonight," He moves to pull plates from the cupboard above the stove. He puts a generous amount of curry onto both plates before turning around and placing them on the table, "You have to leave soon, after all."

Maggie's heart sinks to the very bottom of her stomach at the sad, watery look in Julien's eyes. She fell in love with those eyes first, and then the boy. She reaches out for his cheek, cleanly shaven but still somehow scruffy, like the rest of him, "It's only for two days. The Hunts haven't happened in nearly two-hundred years, there's nothing to worry about," She runs her thumb over the apple of his cheek before sitting down, "And I'm going to try and persuade the Elders to lift it, so I can spend Halloween with you for once."

"You've tried every single year for the last five, and nothing ever changes," He huffs.

"This year could be different, Jule. The Elders may let me stay home with you this year, simply because we've only been married a month and it will be our first holiday together," She offers a smile as she plunges her fork into the steaming curry on her plate.

"It's not a major holiday though, Maggie. It's literally passing out candy to kids in hopes our house won't get egged," Julien digs into his own meal.

"Halloween used to be my favorite holiday," Maggie muses to herself, picking at her half-empty plate. Julien looks up, a piece of curry rice stuck on the corner of his mouth.

"Used to?" His brow knits together in confusion. As far as he knows, this has always been his wife's favorite holiday. They carve pumpkins and decorate every single year, how could it not be? "What changed?"

Maggie looks up at him, her eyes memorizing the lines of his dear, sweet, scruffy face. She remembers the first year she had to go into hiding, barely thirteen and scared out of her skin. Her sister clutching her tightly. She shakes her head and smiles sadly, "I grew up."