Enslaved Witch

The Good Witch

    I stand in the middle of the emergency room, a man in front of me was stabbed in an ally way after attending a parade, this is New Orleans after all. I go to heal him but he seems to be hemorrhaging, I can't help him, medically. Its a late night most of the staff are gone only nurses and receptionist, a really big skeleton crew tonight, so seeing that no one is around I do my witch thing. I touch the head of the sick young man who lays dying in front of my eyes and mutter the words to a spell for restoring life. The man wake soon after but a little tired from the day he had. I let him rest and clock out as I see my co worker coming in to take over for the rest of the night. It is 3 am what should I do now? Mentally I decide to get some sleep in my apartment. So I drive home in my 2015 Hondai Elantra, I live about ten maybe twenty minutes from home. So as I climb in my car I listen to the music I had on earlier which was highway to hell by AC DC which is ironic considering most people believe people like me deserve to go there no matter what we use our magic for. 

I smile wide as I head towards my home singing along the lyrics to AC DC. I pull up into the drive way of my apartment complex named Orleans place. I park my car and greet the doorman happily with a smile, "how are you Howard, how's your daughter, Lauren right?" He gives me an answering smile "yes, she's great thank you for asking Willow, always a pleasure to see you".  I flush at his complement and head towards the elevator and punch in my code to get to my floor. as I wait for the arrival I hum along to the soft sounds of the music, I guess I'm pretty happy to be heading home and finally going to get some sleep. I walk out of the elevator to my door number 676 on the 7th floor, just one number from being founded out as a witch I laugh at my inside joke, if only my lovely neighbors knew my little jokes. I enter my apartment finally home at last from a long night shift at the hospital as a doctor. I had to use my magic seven times today I do hope no one notices or if they do they just look away and see how much lives I'm saving through this. I mean New Orleans is a pretty dangerous place we get people getting drunk and hurting themselves, I'm starting to wonder if the parades every night is a good idea for the citizens of the town, well not my decision and I bet if it wasn't a parade it would be a night of always drinking so either way I'd be working. 

I rush to take a shower so I dart to my bathroom blasting my speaker using my iPhone 11 to navigate the songs, as I scramble through the playlist filled with various songs I decide on cherry bomb by The Runaways. I whip my clothes off as I start dancing stripping off all my clothes. After I glance at myself in the mirror a pale almost completely white girl with big pale silver blue eyes, with raven black hair that goes past my behind, with dark natural red lips shaped like a full small heart. I glance at my breast they are perky and a size B cup, I glance a my body, my scrawny legs just skin and bone and a big enough behind that you can just see it. I see myself as average looking, I use my gifts to help me help others. Though mommy dearest suggest I use my looks to get what I want to better help the coven. I love my fellow witches, but I don't want to be in charge of them, I just want to practice to save lives but my mother doesn't see it like that. As I finish staring at myself my playful mood vanishing as I think about my mother and her wishes to control my life. I roll my eyes at the thought of her and take a shower, using my cinnamon scented soap and a cinnamon scented shampoo. I let the water pours on my like rain from a long day washing away all the stress from being miss hero witch. After I'm clean I get out of the shower and walk into my room and put on a plain white t-shirt and put on underwear then get my bed ready for bed and lay down staring at the ceiling pondering my life and all that I let control it. As I turn off all the lights, turn off all the music I lay staring at the darkness slowly fading into darkness.