I know the hall monitors will object to this being in the Loving Wives category, but for me, that's the basis of the story. So that's where I'm putting it. Besides, that's where Will's story (Sarah of Salem) was.
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I felt him, before I saw him. I thought at first my mother or father had followed me into the school, since I had only had that feeling for them. It was a special connection, one I didn't even share with other relatives, regardless of how close. My granny had repeatedly tried to establish a connection to me, but it never happened.
So, when I turned on my little kindergarten chair, I was surprised to find my gaze locked on a goofy kindergarten kid. Our eyes were locked in a minute. I felt my lips slowly curl into a small smile as he seemed to panic and tear his gaze from me. I could almost feel the hair on his neck rise.
Throughout the day and for the rest of my life, I would know when Will Lawson was going to look at me. When he did, I'd be staring back. It wasn't something I tried to do, just something that happened. We were tied together.
That first day, when I rushed home to tell Mama what had happened on my first day of school, she smiled and hugged me. "He's your other half, sweetheart! How lucky you are to have found him. You'll be soulmates for life!" I laughed when Mama told me that. What five-year-old thinks about soulmates? But as the year passed, I found that I always felt better, somehow more myself, when Will was nearby.
Will was such a typical boy. I knew he felt the connection as well, but it freaked him out, so he told all the kids that I had 'cooties'. It became a game for a while, to run from me or drop the crayon when someone pointed at it and yelled, 'cooties', because I had been using the crayon before them. I never let it bother me, because I knew that it showed Will felt our connection and was fighting it. That amused me, because I also knew how strong that connection was, and he couldn't escape.
Plus, it was easy to make the other kids get bored with the game and move on to something else. The same thing repeated with Will's 'Goody-two-shoes' chant. I let it go on for a while, and then turned everyone's mind to something else.
If I worked at it, I could influence other people's thoughts, or more probably, their moods and emotions. I didn't read minds, and I couldn't make people do any tasks, per se. I could influence their feelings towards me, or towards anchovies on pizza if I wanted them and no one else did. I always managed to stay popular with the other students, but never got close to anyone. No BFF or even close friends for me. I was a witch.
Yes, I was a witch and when I wasn't at school, I was busy getting instructions from by my mother and my nine aunts. I learned spells and potions, telekinesis and divination, psychometry, and Curses. I was fair at most of those studies, but only fair. My spells and potions didn't always work out quite right, I dropped objects I was moving mid-air and frequently predicted the middle of an event instead of the ending. I predicted that a football game was going to be won 14 to 13, but somehow missed the last-minute play, which was a 2-point conversion.
I excelled best at psychometry. Curses were a close second. That all probably sounds good, but it wasn't. I usually kept my hands in my lap, rather than get bombarded with impressions from the desk the teacher had screwed her boyfriend on one night, or the trash can that the drunk janitor had vomited in. Believe me, it's the unpleasant things that objects seem to bring to the surface first. I really must want to find out something to dig deep through layers of unpleasantness.
And Curses. My mother gave me instruction in Curses in order to know how to defend against them but forbade me to use my talent. "We're not that kind of witches," she would insist. "When you hurt people, you hurt yourself. You're a beautiful girl, Sarah, but you won't be if you corrupt your soul." She taught me to be a positive source of nature, that our gifts were from nature and should be kept pure.
The curses my mother gave me for practice were mostly harmless, inconsequential things: making the postman trip, the neighbor lose his keys and making the mean girl at school get a pimple on her nose before every dance junior year. That last one was necessary for me to learn how to do a repeating curse. Just for fun and extra credit, I added the day of class photos to the curse, as well.
The surprise was Mind Control. My mother said it used to be common, but the weakening of the Hexing Family strengths had diminished over the centuries with constant inter-marriage between witches and non-witches. Our powers had been diluted until the major acts of magic, Mind Control, Levitation, Materialization, and Illusions had all but disappeared. No one could do Mind Control anymore, including me.
Except...
Except for Will. I found I could make him do things, think things, and believe things. I found it out when my mother told me to collect some frogs and lizards for some potion lessons. I never minded bugs and toads, or any other ingredient needed, but getting frogs and lizards meant going down into the marsh and getting wet and dirty chasing them. I dreaded it all week, knowing that when the weekend came, I'd have that chore to do. I was looking at Will and wishing he'd do it for me. True, at ten he was still avoiding me, but our connection was stronger than ever.
Took me two hours of getting dirty to collect the ingredients that my mother wanted, but I did it, but spent the next two hours cleaning myself and my clothes. I absolutely hated getting dirty. Still do.
Imagine my surprise on Monday when I found squished frogs and lizards in my books! Like my divination, it wasn't perfect, but Will had done what I wanted. I was so amazed, that when our eyes locked, I could only say, "Thank you, Will." I smiled at his reaction.
Over time, with concentration and hard work, I was able to improve my control. Within a year, I had Will collecting spiders and bugs for me, keeping them alive and putting them into my lunch bag.
My mother's pride showed when I told her about my foray into mind control. She insisted that we work on that but attempts at people other than Will always seemed to fail, and in the end, she believed that I gained strength through our connection, allowing my dormant power to come forth.
By eighth grade, Will started noticing other girls and I became jealous and did something I shouldn't have. I compelled Will to meet me by the lake and kiss me. I had seen him kiss Monica Wells' cheek on the playground, and it was all I could do not to curse her. Instead, I determined to be Will first lip kiss. I was resolved to compel him to love me.
It was wonderful, in that Will took me in his arms, whispered endearments in my ear, and gave me the most tender kiss. It was disappointing, in that the reality was that I was kissing myself. When I realized that I ran home, releasing Will while now compelling him to forget the whole incident.
When I got home, my mother met me at the door. "What did you do?" she demanded. "Your aura is dark -- what did you do?" she repeated.
When I told her, she was horrified. "You can't compel him to love you. You'll destroy your connection that way. He must realize that he loves you. With your connection it was a given that it would eventually happen, but now," my mother had tears in her eyes as she regarded me, "you may have ruined it all."
Later, as I cried and she comforted me, it came out that I had erased the memory from Will's mind. My mother sighed in relief. "That was the right move. You've got a good chance that nothing will change." Then she looked at me sternly, "But never, never force an emotion on Will. He must come to you."
Though eighth grade and freshman year, it appeared that nothing had changed. Will was still avoiding me. I was still freaking him out. I couldn't help it. Somehow, I was compelled to look at him when I knew that he would be looking at me. But I cried a lot at home after seeing him holding hands with other girls.
Sophomore year, I went a little crazy. It was at the beginning of the year that I disobeyed my mother, but I couldn't help it. I overheard some girls talking about Will and Eleanor Windom being lab partners. According to them, Eleanor had eyes for my Will and Will, well, he had been drooling over Eleanor for at least a year. Everyone knew he had been crushing on her.
So, I did it. I cursed Eleanor, wishing her away from my school, whatever it took. I was horrified when her father had a horrible car accident. I never intended that, never wanted anyone to be hurt. But I had done it. I told my mother and she cried for the mark I had put on my soul.
Over the years, my mother and my aunts helped me try to do good things for Eleanor and her family, but curses are easy, good deeds not so much. We were able to influence his work to not just keep him employed after his recovery, but to promote him into a better paying job. But how do you take away the pain and grief you've caused to him and his family? And what about the drunk in the other car? Would he have avoided an accident had I not cursed Eleanor?
Even now, years later, I wake up crying for the evil that I had done.