Wicked

Chapter Twenty-Three

Wednesday.

The week was half over and I wasn't any closer to figuring out who I had seen in my vision. Ivelyn was convinced I was some sort of Messiah sent for her Coven. I on the other hand only thought of the girl from my vision. I was so tired of calling her "the girl from vision" I was driving myself crazy. Everyone around me had noticed a change. Addison kept asking me, "what is going on" but when I told her everything I knew she just stared at me skeptically. 

Which, made me wonder what I was even doing?

I was a girl from New York. I was used to crazy, but not this crazy. I wasn't used to Witches and Ghosts. Salem was vastly different than New York, it was a tad bit overwhelming. Especially, after finding out everything about my family I had found in the past month or so. I kept telling myself I was Cornelia Moreau from New York, but that wasn't really true. I was Cornelia Moreau -- Witch, Psychic, best friend, daughter, and so much more.

That was the hard part to swallow.

Here, in Salem, I had so much more to live up to. That was a lot for a sixteen-year-old girl without a license. 

I was handling it. The best I could.

That was partially why I agreed to go to Katherine's house with the rest of the "Coven." There really wasn't an excuse, at least not one that I could come up with, to say no. I needed their help and they wanted me (for reasons I didn't quite understand) to help. So, when Ivelyn said "meet us at Kate's," I told her okay. Later, Ivelyn text me (I was still trying to figure out how she got my number) the address I told her I would be there after school.

Gran had no problem with dropping me off at Kate's house. It was an old looking building, full of brick and history, off Proctor Street. When I told Gran the address she nodded, humming to herself like she knew exactly where to go. I didn't question her and she didn't question me. It was a mutual agreement we had that if I kept out of trouble, she didn't ask me any further questions. 

Our house was relatively silent, now that Dara was exiled into her bedroom. She didn't even leave for dinner, which I didn't think was part of the agreement. But again, Gran didn't say anything and mom was still gone on her business trip. The business trip I was pretty sure involved Mr. Gellar in at least some part. He acted too awkward in class for something not to be up. Whatever it is, I didn't ask my mom. She would tell me when she wanted to. 

What a weird family dynamic we had fallen into.

I got out of the car, after saying goodbye to Gran. She told me to be safe, like always and I made my way up the cobblestone steps. It was eerie, like something in the wind didn't feel right. It was too stale. I was starting to think that was just the way Salem felt: stale and crisp, all at the same time.

Kate's house was a standard two-story house painted in a dark grey-blue shadow, with bricks. There were too many bricks for my liking, but it suited Kate. The front door was black and bare. There weren't any decorations outside. The porch was standard, maybe a tad too small. It felt crowded, standing there reaching for the doorbell. I ignored the tiny unheard voice in the back of my head that told me to get back into Gran's car, which was still parked alongside the curb. Gran thought it was rude to leave someone before they were inside the establishment.

Finally, someone came to the door. I could hear the pitter patter of footsteps closing in on the front door. I exhaled, my breath a puff of white smoke from the cold. It was early November, but the chill had set in. Fall was almost half over here in Massachusetts. The door flung open, startling me.

It was Kate. She wore a pale blue sweater with dark wash blue jeans and fuzzy socks. Her hair was trailing down her back in loose natural curls. Her dark eyes zoomed in on me, almost questioning. I felt the need to make an excuse for being here, forgetting that I was invited.