It was worse than the casket.
Worse than the stake.
At first, the memories replayed and replayed until I couldn't feel anything anymore. Then it went black.
That darkness was worse than anything. I had to go to church with my Granddaddy (He took care of me) every sunday, and there you learn all sorts of good things about the other side. Golden gates, angel songs, everything you could ever want ever. I wanted a big, white house, with spanish moss, and Stevie songs pouring out of the windows. I haven't done nothing that bad in my life… I helped people.
But that's all shit. The first time I died, I didn't feel anything. My body- my magic, did all the work. When Cordelia and the other witch found me in the casket, I was pretty fresh. I remember seeing a roomful of mirrors. I told Myrtle about it, actually. She said the dehydration probably caused it. There isn't no heaven.
I heard Cordelia's voice. I'm sure that's what pulled me out. What put me in that purgatory. I wasn't all dead, but I was gone.
I had made plans to bring myself back in case Fiona decided to kill me. I knew what I had to do to bring myself back, so I started to heal myself. Whatever of me was left.
Then the memories came.
First of when Madison left me to die, but then of the very first time.
My Grandaddy lived in a pretty little salmon house on Johnston Street, in Lafayette. Not far outside New Orleans. It was real old, and it got real hot. Kinda like my grandaddy himself. See, I lived with him because my own daddy died, and my momma ran off when I was real little. So, he took me in. I still don't think he was very happy about it. Oh, he hated my fainting spells. He said it was devil work, just like the rest of them did. But deep inside, I could tell he knew that it was a gift. Man, I must have been in and out of the hospital at least twenty times in my life. That's where I first heard Stevie. I was all hocked up on all that medication, when Landslide came on through the radio. It was like a dream…It was magical.
But Stevie didn't help my case. Soon as I told grandad that I wanted her album, he started runnin' around the house like a madman saying "You ain't listinin' to no devil witch woman!".
I thought it was funny. He was a funny old man. With a real good heart, though.
But that day at church, that bird… The whole congregation followed us home from the hospital, spittin' at me, throwing bibles at me. I didn't understand though, they said god brought back people all the time. But it wasn't no use trying to argue with anyone this time- they saw it. They saw it all.
They came for me that night. My grandad let them in. He was just scared of what he didn't know. Helping me would have made him a devil- worshipper, too. They took me right out of my bed… They're all goin' to hell, they are murderers, not me.
All of that came back to me. As I watched the fire crawl up my body- I woke up.
I was on the floor of Miss Robecioux's. I gasped, and my lungs felt like when you run real hard and forget to breathe right. It was pitch black, and it was raining outside. A little bolt of thunder and lightning cracked outside and lit the whole place up. In the flash, I looked down at my hands, and started crying. I wrapped Stevie's shawl around me and just sat there, crying. Right in the spot where those bitches let me die.
I heard a door shut upstairs, and shot up. A wave of cold air ran across my spine. I had to get out. I had to get out, I had to get out. Now. I picked myself off of the ground as another bolt of lightning screamed outside. I saw the entrance hall light up, and started slowly going up the stairs. I took off my boots on the second step to make it easier. I made my way up and across the hall to my guest room there. The door was shut. I tried my very best to remember everything that Ms. Cordelia taught me, and turned the knob with all my might. With what little magic I could muster. The door opened in silence, and another bit of lighting came, letting me see inside.
The bed was made, but they had taken the mirror out. The side- table was bare. I tip-toed to the dresser, but it was empty, too. How long had I been gone? They'd better not have gotten rid of my damn things. I went to the closet. Empty. I finally looked up to the top shelf. There, a little brown messenger bag sat. My bag. I got it down and set it on the bed, making sure none of those witches stole any of my stuff. I opened it and found a note;
"Dearest Misty Day,
If you are reading this, I am very proud of you. You have proven to be a powerful witch, and this coven was so blessed to have had you here. Go back to your home, Misty, it is too much for you here. You belong somewhere you feel free. Thank you so much, for everything.
I knew you could do it.
Best wishes,
Cordelia Foxx"
Miss Cordelia and Miss Myrtle were the only one of those witches who ever showed me any kindness. The other girls… They were so dark. I prefer my white witch.
But Cordelia believed in me… And I knew I had to go, anyway. These girls were not my tribe.
I continued looking through my bag, and found everything where I left it. I threw it over my shoulder and went down and out that front door.
It was raining real hard, like a million bullets coming at you at once. I walked out of the gate, and felt safer than I ever had when I was in that place. The streetlamps lit my way, mostly, and I stumbled on that road until I could figure out where it was I was headed. It was a long way back to Lafayette, and I knew that's where I had to go, first.
I got to the main strip and found a cafe open. I walked in, and must have looked like hell. A large woman in a pink apron came over to me.
"Well hello there little miss, what can I get you tonight?"
"What time is it?"
She hesitated.
"Why, it's 10:30. Can I start you off with a drink? How about some nice hot tea."
"What day is it?"
Her face paled and she didn't look so cheery anymore.
"Look, miss, are you in some kinda trouble?"
I went to an available booth and sat my things down. I was fairly sure that I still had my ten bucks, in a pocket someplace.
"Tea would be real nice, ma'm."
She nodded real funny-like and went to the kitchen. She came back out with my drink and a thing of sweet- and - low.
"Usually young folk don't really like their tea plain, let me know if I can get you anything else, honey."
"Thank you, miss."
She went back into the kitchen, and I could hear her talking with the other waitresses over whatever televised sport was droning on the mounted tv. I looked down to the tea, and watched the sugar dissolve in the water. The ring of a bell shot me out of my trance.
A big, gruff man walked through the door, and slammed it behind him. He was soaking wet, and had on a red plaid shirt and trucking boots. He looked mean, but he had nice eyes. A different waitress lady came out as he plopped into a booth across from me.
"Well hello there, Bill" She drawled as she came over to him.
"Hey Darlene. Black coffee and scrambled eggs." He had a deep voice. I must have been staring at him, because she shot me a mad look. Darlene wrote his order in her little notebook and went off to the kitchen.
I got up from my seat, and across from him. I looked deep into his eyes, trying to remember all those witches taught me.
"You're gonna take me to Lafayette."
I got there real late in the day. At that awful time where everything is mustard colored, and the sun shines right in your eye.
I made a few stops along the way, to make sure that I had everything that I needed. I could remember where those church people met every Friday like the back of my hand. Miss Laverne and Reverend Loland's house. It was ritual.
First I started by locking all the doors and windows. Cordelia was right, I was more powerful than I thought. Then I poured the gasoline.
The match dropped almost instinctively. I pulled up Stevie's shawl and walked away.
"It is you who will end in flames, not me."