My Life - Original Writing

2018 WordsMar 29, 20169 Pages
“Sweetheart? Could you possibly not glare at Joanie like that?” My father asked cautiously in the middle of dinner. I hadn’t even noticed that I was doing it, it just became a habit after awhile. I looked down at my plate, still full with spaghetti crowding around my small portion of meatballs. Not that I was going to eat any of it. Usually, I would have finished it all by now, but that was before my mother’s spaghetti recipe had been contaminated by Joanie’s attempt to recreate it. Though it had been my father’s idea, I don’t know what he was thinking. Like an overcooked imposter of my favorite dish would immediately make me like Joanie. As if spaghetti would make me warm up to the idea of having her as my stepmother. “Not hungry,” I…show more content…
Bringing it over to my desk, I sat down, turning on the lamp. The layer of dust on it made it seem like it had even been longer than two years since I had opened it last. Some days it did. Carefully, I opened the old Grimoire, flipping through till I found what I was looking for. My mother had always warned me against the use of some of the spells and recipes in here, but it’s not like that caution had really helped her. I grabbed a slip of paper and a pen, then quickly wrote down the incantation that I needed. Shutting the Grimoire, I put it back in its place in my closet before grabbing my coat and keys. Quietly, I opened my window, then crawled out and then with help from a tree, down the side of the house. As my feet touched down on the gravel, I started walking towards the forest located behind my street and I didn’t stop until I found the all too familiar clearing that was, at least, a half mile into the thick woods. Not wanting to waste any time I took out the slip of paper and with my eyes focused on the paper, I began reciting the incantation. With each word that passed off my tongue, I could feel the energy around me tense with heat and power that I hadn’t felt since before my mother died. But as much as it was similar, it was also foreign. Giving off a buzzing feeling that made me numb except a tingle that crept through my finger. As I finish reciting the paper burst
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