I walk home, holding my potion tightly. It glows blue in the afternoon sun. The concoction is one of illusion. If you give it to someone, they’ll see whatever you choose. There’s a burning taper in the kitchen window. Seeing it makes me stop. I haven’t lit a candle in days. I don’t need them ...

Out in the forest clearing, Hawthorn and I sit in the grass with fresh cups of tea. The sun is warm on my skin. “Now what?” “Just breathe in the air. Feel the surrounding roots. Witchcraft is about connecting with nature.” I close my eyes and try to focus. I’m able to pick out the ...

“You’re a witch!” Hawthorne holds her hands up. If it were anyone else, it would be a symbol of surrender. But from a witch, it’s a threat. Her eyes darted around desperately. “But I–” “But what? Did you poison the tea?” The knife shook in my hands. “No, I swear! I’ll leave; you’ll never see ...

The knife comes loose with a tug as I inspect the wall. There isn’t much damage, but it will need to be refinished. I’ll need to have dad cleanse the house when he gets back. Another chore. Another day. Downstairs in the kitchen, the poorly wrapped cake mix sits on the counter. I shove it ...

I open my eyes to the stars. Thousands of them light up the colorful painting of space dust that circles the sky. My hands are tingly and numb, my head pounds, and my mouth is dry. Something soft brushes my hand, making me jolt upright. I spot a tiny rabbit near my fingers and let ...

In my first memory, I stand in a doorway. Mother yells, while Dad tries to calm her. My tiny legs wobble as I try to stay as quiet as possible. Even as a child, I knew I needed to listen. “You travel the world, any one of those towns could be her new home. She ...

The air crackled with energy as the wind gusted around us. Ralph, Liz, Roxanne, and I held hands, reciting ancient spells. The candles we had lit had long since blown out, proving useless, but the sage bundle nestled in the amethyst bowl glowed in red and yellow hues. Smoke twisted and danced to the whims ...

Unease settled over me when I tried to piece together the puzzle between Aunt Thelma and Uncle Jeb’s true identity. Their ghostly presence commanded a source of comfort in our family, but now I found it impossible to rid myself of the notion there may be a deeper layer of their story. I needed to ...

Days went by, and still waiting for word from Thelma. I drove to the farm, hoping to see my Uncle Jeb, but he wasn’t on the grounds. It was unusual for him not to be around. The gnawing tug in my gut grew stronger. But when Ralph, the most unobservant of men, failed to offer ...

Uncle Jeb had a far-off look in his eyes, as if gathering his thoughts on where to start with his missing hand story. Throughout my childhood, my mom and aunt recounted the tale of him driving down one of the dirt roads one day with his arm dangled out the window. His truck got too ...