Angel in the woods ( A Short Story)

Anahera

Fear.

I was born to be feared by everyone in this town because of coarse, 

I'm Lucifer Black's daughter.

As I walk through the town I can feel people staring, whispering, taunting. I don't care. It happens every day; ever since the day, I was born. 

Guess no one thought the devil could spawn.

I ignore the stares and work my way thru the mass of people swarming around booths of cheeses, meats, and wines. I hear vendors yelling all sorts of things to people, some in a language that shouldn't be used. Everyone should speak either new English or our old language called perseff.

"He doer me la!" a woman calls to her child.

"Salr doer ma la." The child calls back.

When I finally get out of the crowd I find whom I was looking for.

"Anahera!"  Halima calls from in front of her workshop. I look at her and smile, it has been a year since I've last seen her, and heaven, does she look pretty. 

Her long black hair falls in natural waves on her back, bright purple eyes, and a soft pale complexion that causes a deep blush to constantly rise up her neck. It's funny that once I used to be afraid of her. Halima started her witch apprenticeship when she was ten and from that formed a personality all around her craft. I met her when I was 14 at a coffee shop (when they were still open) she was yelling at the customers about how they were all going to worship her one day. Since she was going to become the best witch that has ever lived. Let's just say that didn't go over well when I told my dad. She is spunky, rude mannered, and VERY loud. A couple of years later we became the best of friends before...my mom died.

It hurts to think of her. I can still smell her rose-scented perfume if I try hard enough and the way she would flick her dark blond hair around trying to impress everyone around her. I wish in every way I was more like my mom.

"Hey!" I squeal, knowing I shouldn't show my happiness around people but I don't really care right now. All I care about is hugging my best friend before everything falls apart around me in a few days due to my upraising day which is kinda like a birthday in this godforsaken wood.

Halima surprisingly  grabs me by my hair and yanks a couple pieces out.

"Ouch! what was that for?" i yell glaring at her, protectively covering the rest of my long  dark green hair.

She smiles. "Your going to love it." and runs off into her shop me trailing behind her. Her shop has a little bit of everything to stuffed jackalopes to floating eyes in a bucket of "special water" is what she calls it. Jars hang from ceilings and containers overflow the shelf's causing me to bump into one and almost drop it.

"Hey! Be more careful." I hear Halima mutter from behind one of her bookshelf full of jars.

"Where are you?" i call  walking behind the shelf to see her, arms full of jars, grinning at me (Which in fact is unusual...)  

"Ready to see something that will change the rest of the woods forever?" she asks while plucking a tube of black powder from a table and dumping it in her large black cauldron. I watch her throw a few other things in, cinnamon, lilac, a black slimy thing-i think it might be an eye- and a few other herbs and spices. Including the chunk of hair she ripped out of my scalp.

Curiously, i walk over to her, eyeing the items in the pot. She hums as she throws things in and soon i recognize the song. The one my mother wrote for my tenth birthday. I fight back tears and sound out Halima's humming, staring at the inside of the cauldron. 

"Ok, I think we're ready." Halima's voice snaps me back to reality. Looking up from the cauldron i see Halima's face is tough and solemn the way she gets every time she casts a spell or does a potion.

"Ready for what-" I'm about to ask when she shushes me and puts her finger on my lips. A perplexed look crosses my face but she ignores it.

"Watch," she says.

I do.

Knowing Halima I'm not sure this is going to end well.

I watch her start to pour in a clear liquid when i realize what she's pouring in Acetone peroxide.

Acetone peroxide is a explosive chemical that my mom that my mom used to use for bombs. Or some sort of bomb.

"Halima..." my voice drifts off alarm raising in my body.

I don't even get a chance to think when the whole cauldron explodes and sends me tumbling backwards in to a field of glass and smoke.

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