Love Without Magic Can Be Magical

This is my submission for the

Halloween Story Contest 2023

roving.

*

I'm not going to beat around the bush with you. I'm going to come right out and state the truth, as difficult as this is going to be for you to swallow.

The fact is, I'm a witch.

I was born a witch. My mother was born a witch. My grandmother is also a witch. That's just the way it works.

Believe me, don't believe me, I don't really give a shit. Sure, roll your eyes if you want to. Laugh at me in the back of your mind, or even to my face. Don't care. Though you might be mildly entertained if you don't tune me out. Your prerogative.

The thing is, for me, there's zero risk in telling you my deepest, most important secret. When I'm done, I'm just going to conjure a spell and erase your mind of it, so poof. Who will you be able to blab to? Nobody.

Don't believe that either, eh? Good that makes the mind-wipe easier.

So why tell it at all, you would like to know. That's harder to answer. It's cathartic, maybe? If I say it out loud and hear myself tell it like it was (and is), will things make more sense to me? Will I have an 'aha' moment that explains my own actions to myself and have it all seem sensible? I wish I knew.

There are some basics you need to know in advance, or you'll be lost from the very beginning. Try and follow along.

First, I hate that 'witch' rhymes with 'bitch'. I really, really hate that. I'm not a bitch in either the literal sense or metaphorically. Literally, a bitch being a female dog makes me shudder.

I apologize for the sidebar on this, but I just have to. I hate dogs. And they hate me. They're the only animal that can instinctively see what I am, and they freak out. Which freaks me out. I'm also powerless against them, so they instantly turn aggressive, and I don't care what breed or what size, I hate them.

OK, back to the basics.

That stupid children's author that wrote a popular series about a school for witches, I'm sure you know the one. Well, I never read them or saw the movies as they would only disgust me, but I know a couple of things that we need to get out of the way. First, witches are females. Period. No magic could come from anything with testicles. That's just a plain fact.

I also heard that in this fictional drivel, non-witches have a name. They're called, oh, what was it?! Buggles, or nuggles or something stupid like that. Wrong! Those with no magic capability and acumen are called simply what they are: useless, pathetic, worthless assholes. Wastes of space. Well, to put it nicely that is.

Maybe I'm a little bitter. Gran taught me some of our history and we have been persecuted in an ugly manner. Here's some irony, the people executed in Salem back in the day weren't even witches. Real ones, like me, are too smart to get caught out. Only it is the idea of ignorant hatred that gets to me, so I'm not going to change my attitude.

This sounds trivial, but it has to be said. There's no such thing as vampires, wolfpeople, frankenpeople, ghosts or zombies. Magic can come in many forms and conjured many different ways, but magic is still magic and all those other 'monsters' from cereal boxes and bad movies . . . No. Just plain stupid. And, oh so wrong.

I don't wear a pointy hat, though on Halloween, I might, but more as a personal joke or to piss off my mother. I don't fly a broom. In fact, I can't fly at all. Preposterous what Hollywood created for our image. I don't need a wand, or eye of newt and a cauldron. I can't be melted by water. I don't live in a house made of candy.

And I don't eat children. Yuck. I mean, mother and grandmother tried to get me to eat them when I was younger, but . . . again . . . no. Gross.

I suppose that's an OK segway to explain that I'm not an ordinary witch. How do I say this? OK, here it is. I'm not evil. OK? Not in the fire and brimstone kind of way, put a curse on you kind of thing.

Wait. I'm blowing this. See? Maybe this is why I'm telling you. I need to sort this out for myself too.

So then, back up. I'm not evil, but I'm not a nice witch either. Ha! Far from it. Sabrina I'm not! And I have a mean streak a mile wide. Like, I'll give you 7 years of bad luck if you cut me off on the road, or I'll give you 365 consecutive days of migraine headaches if you even look at me funny, but I'm not evil in the sense that I'll get you to walk into traffic and bleed out in the street for my own entertainment.

Despite the fact that I'm a witch, I still have feelings. I can get lonely. I can be sad sometimes. I also love to laugh at silly things. I can be a friend.

Well, that last thing. That was a lie. I mean I

could

be a friend, only I'm not very good at it so I don't have any. I have an ugly temper, I'm overly competitive, and, well, I'm not to be trusted, so there's all that. Maybe I'm a bitch after all.

I'm working on that though. I even hope I've made some progress recently.

In fact, why don't you tell me. Let me bounce this off of you and see what you think.

What I'm about to tell you started on a Halloween and really came to a climax on another.

I still don't even believe it all happened myself.

*

*

My favorite coffee shop was crowded but I didn't really notice until later. Deep into my morning routine, I was so engrossed with my laptop and favorite iced coffee that I didn't remember even looking around until someone standing next to my table got my attention.

"I'm sorry to bother you," the dude said softly. I barely even heard him. I instinctively closed my laptop. "Would you mind if I took your open seat? There's nothing else available."

I hesitated in answering. First, it was his eyes that did it to me, one turquoise and the other green. Next was the fact that he was tall and handsome, probably around my age, maybe a little older. But it was mostly likely because he was dressed like a red Crayola crayon.

I shook myself out of it, "Yeah, sure. Go right ahead."

He sat down across the table from me and encouraged me to go back to what I was doing while he set up his own laptop. The table wasn't that large so our laptops and drinks consumed the entire table top.

I resumed what I was doing, but remarked, "Into Halloween, I see."

He chuckled, "Yeah, well. I feel pretty silly about it, but I just relocated here and started at my new company where I was encouraged to dress up for it to compliment the others in my department. Apparently, they have a streak going in winning the 'group costume' contest every year and I don't want to be the downer. I've only been there a couple of weeks. Just wanting to fit in, you know?"

I nodded but had to smile.

He asked, "So, no costume contest for you today, huh?"

Without verbalizing it, I reached down and retrieved a collapsible pointy witch hat from my laptop satchel and put it on while looking at him. I gave him a smile, which he returned in a big way. I got another good look at him and felt a flutter in my chest. A new sensation for me.

He chuckled, "So. You too, huh?"

"Not exactly," I replied, sliding the hat back from where I pulled it. "I own the spice shop a couple of blocks from here and just trying to make it fun for the customers."

"Ah, you're lucky then." I had to agree. We both pounded away at our keyboards and sipped our beverages before he asked, "So, any big plans for Halloween? Are you a costume-party kind of person or the stay at home and pass-out-candy kind?"

"Neither," I replied honestly, "I'm going over to my mother's later to keep an eye on her."

"Why would that be," he asked in curiosity.

"She's a witch too, and I have to be on alert so she doesn't pass out any poison apples to the children."

He laughed, not knowing that it wasn't far from the truth. Not the poison apple part, but the temptation for my mother to dine on the neighborhood children.

I resumed working, while he gazed into his own laptop. Before long, I tried to forget he was even there until I couldn't anymore while my mind wandered off. He was handsome. He seemed pleasant. He might fit the bill nicely even.

The more I thought about it, the more I smoothed over the idea in my mind that I would. The question was, should I flirt with him naturally, use some magic, or a little of both.

About once or twice a year, maybe less in some years, I have an urge to get laid. I like sex just as much as the next girl, witch or not, only I'm more predatory about it than others. Like, I've seduced a guy who lives in my building three or four times over the years, gotten it out of my system, and then wiped his mind clear of the memories.

Grinder, twister, thank you mister.

I was planning on just using him again, only he doesn't really smell that great, he's hairy and pretty lame in bed. Not that I'm a dynamo or wildly experienced or have any idea of what's normal and what's kinky, only I

would

like my own climax. So I had been thinking about seducing someone new this year, why not this guy?

Mom and Gran would probably approve. My tablemate's hair, though closely cropped in a professional cut, had a touch of red mixed in with brown. Not close to a flaming red like my long hair, but red enough. Even if it wasn't, there's no way I am going to follow tradition so it doesn't really matter.

If Mom and Gran had their way, when I had turned 30, I'd select a red-haired Adonis and have him knock me up. I would naturally birth a girl, also a witch, of course. Then I'd mind-wipe his stupid brain and cast him off. At least I wouldn't have to kill him, witches are much more civilized these centuries. The bottom line being there were not to be any men in my future.

Now at 33, I continue to disappoint my family, but I've already made up my mind that there would be no children in my future. My lineage stops with me. Mom and Gran would just have to get over it.

I closed my laptop yet again and reached out over his with my hand. "I'm Claret."

He shook my hand, "Yes, I see that you are."

Just great, a joker. "No, my name is Claret."

He smiled, "It suits you. I'm Darrin."

I just groaned. "Seriously?"

"What's wrong with Darrin?"

"There's nothing wrong with it, I'm just surprised. I've never met one before." I let my hand linger in his. He lightened up on his grip in a signal to break the handshake, but I continued to let it linger when the weirdest thing happened. I can't even properly describe it, I mean, it was like he . . . like he . . . um, glitched. Like watching a video on the computer where it backs up a frame or two and then bounces back forward. I let go of his hand.

What the hell did I just see? I have to be imagining things.

I got back on track. I was going to flirt and go natural for now. No magic. At least not yet.

We talked about this, that, and nothing and I did all the things that used to drive the boys in school crazy. Chin down, looking upwards at him and appearing interested in his every word. Moving my arm to place a closed hand under my chin and narrow my eyelids. Let him really see my freckles and smoked up my voice.

Then I saw it again. He glitched. A couple of times.

More remarkably, he didn't take the bait. He didn't seem interested in my charms at all.

Time to take it up a notch. Be a little more obvious. I asked if he had a girlfriend.

"Nope." He answered and then thought about something. "I mean, I did. It just didn't work out."

There! He did it again. Glitch.

"No?" I asked innocently, still trying to use my wiles to make his heart flutter. "What happened?"

"Oh. Um. It's hard to describe. I can't even explain it."

"Well. Sorry to hear that."

"Yeah. Thanks." He briefly got a serious expression. The charming Darrin was replaced with a somewhat sullen version but then was almost instantly back.

It was what he didn't say that made me concerned. After getting personal with him, it was his turn to return it. I mean, this would be the part of the flirtation script where he asked me about my single status and he didn't. Shit. He's not interested in me.

Now I was going to have to use magic. I was going to start mild and ramp up a level at a time

I never got the chance.

I think I heard it first, but my attention was suddenly drawn to a growl coming from the purse of the old lady at the table next to us. Her purse was on the floor, next to her chair, with a dog's head protruding from it. There was no mistaking that the growl was directed at me.

The dog jumped out, barked at me several times and then cautiously walked towards me with a steady monotone growl.

I shrieked. I tried to get up so I could escape and stumbled over my chair, knocking it over violently, and landed right onto my ass. It was barking menacingly at me, in between growls through bared teeth. I could see in its eyes it was hell bent on bloodshed.

I pushed with my feet to slide backwards and away from the beast. At least the dress that had ridden up my opened legs in the tumble, exposing my undies to Darrin and the rest of the coffee shop, returned to cover me up as I scooted back, on the floor. Until I reached a wall and realized I was cornered. My panic doubled.

I screamed at the beast, "Get away! Don't get near me!"

It continued its approach. I pulled my knees up towards me and crossed my arms over my chest for protection. I was doomed.

In a flash, Darrin scooped up the dog with one hand and held it in front of him in mid-air. He looked at me with worry before turning towards the old woman, handing the dog over to her with a lecture, "The sign on the door says, 'no dogs allowed'. Please follow that rule in the future."

The old woman seemed flustered and stuttered, "I've never seen him do that before. He normally just sleeps in my purse when we go out. He's never acted anything like that."

Darrin paid no attention, instead after resetting my chair and coming to my side, holding out his hand to pull me up off the floor where I was still trembling. He wrapped me up in a hug and asked if I was OK.

Reality started to slowly return to the front of my mind. I could see patrons looking at me like I was a freak. From behind Darrin's back, I started mind-wiping but only got five or six customers in and I was spent. It can be exhausting using magic back-to-back like that and I nearly passed out in Darrin's arms.

Glitch.

This time I didn't see it. I felt it.

*

The first thing I did when I got to Mom's was go through her bowl of candy in the kitchen where it had been prepared. I used a spell and confirmed there wasn't any poison or anything cursed or magical.

"Don't you trust me, dear?" Mom asked sarcastically with a smirk on her face.

"No, I don't," I replied. "And you be good tonight. You leave the children alone."

Mom looked exasperated, "Aghh. How is it possible that you came from my womb? You just suck the fun out of everything. And take that ridiculous hat off!"

I ignored her and then went and greeted Gran in the living room, getting a warm embrace and I kissed her on the cheek.

When it finally became dark, the costumed children and their parents came out in force and canvassed the neighborhood. Mom passed out the candy while Gran and I strategically sat and watched from behind, sitting on the staircase just inside the foyer. I had an eagle eye on Mom the whole time but was able to pick Gran's mind using a low voice. I called on her wisdom and experience with our kind.

I told her of my encounter with Darrin, from his rejecting my attempts to flirt and seduce him to his daring rescue where he saved me from the beast.

"And you wanted to seduce this boy, why?" She asked, looking down her long and weathered nose at me with a slight grin.

I replied in a hushed tone, "I just wanted to toy with him for a little bit." Oh, shit. What did I just admit? I'm sure I blushed so hard my cheeks matched the tone of my hair.

Gran sounded disappointed, "Hmmmm. So, no baby-witch making with him then?"

"Definitely not!"

Mom looked over her shoulder at me and gave me an angry glare before resuming to pass out candy.

I lowered my voice further and tried to explain to Gran what I had seen and felt when Darrin glitched. "Gran, do you know what that might be about? It was so weird."

I was startled by the sound of the door slamming shut. Mom stood there slack jawed and looked frightened, and as much as I hate to sound trite, it was like she had seen a ghost.

"Stay away from that boy," she warned me, obviously having heard everything I said to Gran.

I didn't know what to say, being a little shocked by her reaction.

Gran got my attention, "She's probably right. You have to be careful with that one." She smiled at me and added, "First, you weren't the only witch he ever crossed paths with, and second, his encounter with her ended badly."

Mom repeated her warning, "Stay away from that boy. I mean it."

I finally found my voice, "What's going on?"

Gran simply stated, "Powerful magic."

Mom glared at Gran, "That's quite enough!"

With the doorbell ringing and ringing, children screeching from the other side of the door, "Trick or treat!" It was all completely ignored.

Mom addressed me again, "Just stay away."

"Fine!" I felt my temper rise. "I'm probably never going to see him again anyway. I can't show my face in that coffee shop ever again after what happened. But I'd still like to know."

Mom seemed to calm down at my admission, but she clearly lost her enthusiasm for the evening's activities and shut off the porch light before storming into the kitchen to pour us all some wine.

We all gathered in the living room. The tension from Mom was palpable. It seemed to ping pong between angry pursed lips and sadness. Gran just looked at her sympathetically.

Mom released a heavy sigh before asking me, "So, you aren't going to see this boy again?"

I shook my head, no.

Mom seemed to relax, "He's under a spell. More of a curse, really. Very powerful magic. It's in a family of spells called Witch-Scorn."

I let that take a few turns around my noggin before I asked her, "Do you know it?"

She made eye contact with Gran briefly before looking back at me, "I do."

"What is it?" I asked cautiously.

Mom sighed again. "It's a very difficult, very specific kind of spell. The witch has to be completely unhinged. It is only cast in extreme anger . . . or . . ." She let her words just drift off and stared into her wine glass.

Gran finished it, "Heartbreak." Mom just nodded sadly.

"What does it do?" I asked.

Mom had sort of lost it, so Gran answered, "It's an emotion recall spell. While you were thinking he wasn't interested in you, the spell was proving just the opposite. The emotions he was feeling for you, as they emerged, were being canceled real time. Not being allowed to grow."

"Is there an anti-spell?" I asked.

Gran looked over at Mom whose face held a grimace at my question. Mom finally answered, "I don't know."

My curiosity was piqued, but at the same time I almost didn't want to know. "What makes it so powerful?"

Mom replied sadly, "It's permanent. The boy will never know love."

I instantly felt badly for Darrin. He was nothing but nice and kind, coming to my rescue just in the nick of time. I wondered what he did to deserve a witch's scorn, and what kind of witch would do that to someone."

Then I had a thought. I asked very cautiously, "Mom. So, you know of this spell. Have you ever used it on anyone?"

She got instantly defensive, "No! Never!" She looked into her wine glass again, and added calmly, "Almost. Once. A long time ago. Just forget about it."

The room was silent for I don't know how long before Gran said in a motherly tone to her daughter, "Why don't you tell her. She's plenty old enough to know. She's made it clear our line ends with her, so I don't think a repeat is in her future, and it might help if you talk about it."