The doorbell echoed through the silent Herbert household, causing chaos you would expect from a household with three young children left alone.
"It's a crazy woman dressed as a witch. I've never seen her before," Camilla stated as she walked down the staircase to see her brother. Jet was trying his best to peek out of the dirty peephole. "I would say that she's escaped from some mental asylum to kill us."
"Very funny, Cam," Jet said as he continued his endeavor.
The doorbell rang again. This time Eton emerged at the top of the staircase with a blanket wrapped around him and drooping eyes.
Through a yawn, he said, "Who's at the door?"
"Some lunatic that's trying to kill us."
Eton rolled his eyes and made his way down the stairs, stumbling as the blanket got caught around his feet.
"She's not going away," Jet frowned.
Eton yawned again.
"Of course she isn't. She knows that someone's home. She can see our shadow through the curtains."
He nodded to the white curtains that covered the small windows that lined the door. The backlighting caused by the light hanging above them no doubt made their shadows appear in the white curtain in the darkening sky of the front porch.
Jet's frown deepened.
"Get behind me," he said as he grabbed a pink umbrella from their umbrella stand.
"Why should I?" Camilla claimed as she grabbed an umbrella of her own.
Jet's expression flickered with annoyance.
Eton removed his blanket and held it out in front of him prepared to charge at the woman and tie her up.
Jet held the umbrella behind his back as he pulled the door open.
Behind the door, in fact, stood a woman in witch's robes. They fell to her feet and the dark blue velvet looked uncomfortable for a warm Californian night. Everything about the woman was straight, her nose, her posture, and her dark hair. Camilla had an itch to check if there was a broom attached to her back.
Camilla was the first to speak, "Are you a lunatic? Because if you are go for Eton first-" She shoved Eton towards the woman despite his protest. "He hates, you know, crazy people."
"I do not!" Eton turned onto his sister with a red face, more angry at the fact that she would shove him towards this strange lady than what she had said.
"Do too. You won't even get close to great grandpappy Barebone."
"That's not my fault! He starts screaming at me anytime I'm near him. I swear next Thanksgiving he's going to scream himself to death!"
"As interesting as this family discussion is..." The witch scanned over the younger siblings with thinly veiled disgust, "I need to talk to Phillip...alone."
The two fidgeted beneath her stare. They knew when she said Phillip she meant Jet. After all, Jet was a nickname given to him by their mother because of his jet grey eyes. Eton likewise, was a nickname for his most unusual shade of green eyes. His real name was Arthur. Camilla had her own. But she despised it so much that she would punch whoever called her by it. It being Baby Blue of course.
"Why should we let you," Camilla asked as she stepped in front of Jet, "You never did answer if you were a lunatic or not."
The witch spoke in a clipped voice, "I am not a lunatic. I am a Professor. Now Phillip follow me."
"Don't worry. I'll shout if she pulls a knife out of her robes."
Jet gave them a reassuring smile before following the witch into the living room.
She grabbed the door. Her eyes peered into Eton's. A shiver passed over him. It remained even as she slammed the door shut.
Camilla grabbed his arm and pulled on his arm.
"Come on. We won't be able to hear them from over here."
The air still felt cold around him.
"I don't like her, Cam. There's something dark about her."
He stood and tried to twist the doorknob open, but it wouldn't budge.
"The door won't open!"
"Shut up, Eton! I won't be able to hear anything with you chattering like a monkey."
Eton huffed but pressed his ear against the door, trying his best to ignore his sister's fiery red hair that itched his face.
It was not Eton's talking that kept them from hearing anything. The other side of the door was completely silent. He pressed his ear harder against the door.
This made no sense! He had always been able to hear through this door. He and his siblings would listen to their father's meetings with the strange men that came on Friday nights.
The piece of driftwood that he had found on the beach years ago burned his skin. He yelped, causing his sister to glare at him with her blue eyes.
He lifted his shirt and noticed an angry red mark. Camilla's mouth fell open and she reached for the stick.
Snap
She jumped a mile as she shouted, "What is that!"
Eton shrugged and took it out of his pocket. It felt eager beneath his grasp. He pointed at the door, unsure of what to do.
"See if it will open it just a crack so we can hear what they say."
Eton imagined the door opening just a crack, flooding the dark hallway with the light from the living room.
Then, as if by magic, it creaked open.
They rushed to peer through the little opening.
The witch sat in a high backed purple velvet chair so that only the top of her midnight blue could be seen. Jet sat facing the fireplace that had only been lit once in their memory. His jet grey eyes flashed to the door. Panic spread across his features when he saw his siblings blue and green eyes. He turned quickly back to the witch and jumped to his feet.
"I should get packing."
Through the archway that led to the kitchen, they heard the back door open accompanied by their mother's footsteps. Eton squirmed with excitement and a smile spread across his face. Their mother emerged in a paint-covered smock and wearing a banda. She was fixing the strap on her paint bag with a small smile that revealed two dimples. She was breathtakingly beautiful and had been told more than a couple of times that she should ditch her children and join the silver screen. Each time someone told her this, she would laugh and claim she couldn't be happier than when she's with her children.
She froze and raised her head slowly. The bag dropped from her shoulder. She glanced behind her, before speaking in a hushed whisper,
"He always said that you were real…" Her eyes lit determination, "You mustn't tell him. He'll use him. He'll make him an enemy of his own kind, just like his great, great grandpa did."
The witch stood. She strode towards their mother. Each step their mother shrunk away. When the witch stopped in front of her, she could not meet her eyes. The witch survived her before taking out a wooden stick that bore a resemblance to Eton's stick.
"Do not fear non-maj. You will know nothing of where he is, nothing of what he is."
She placed the stick against their mothers head.
Eton tensed. He had seen something like this from the movies. He got ready to spring from his position, but movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. His brother was staring right at him, shaking his head.
Eton relaxed but did not put the stick away.
He turned his attention back to the witch and his mother. Their mother looked between the witch and the wand. Her breaths were ragged and uneven.
She twisted the stick and said,
"Falsamemoriae"
Their mother's eyes clouded over and in a dreamy voice said, "Why, yes. Saint Peter's sounds like a wonderful school. Have fun my darling."
The witch smiled. It sent shivers down Eton's spine. He shut the door, cutting off the witch and his brother. He turned to his sister.
Her blue eyes were narrowed. He could almost see everything zipping around in her brain. She opened her mouth to say something, but she never got the chance because the witch and their brother emerged from the door.
Eton hid the wand behind his back.
"Go pack your things, Jet. I will be waiting outside once you are done."
Jet sent a glance at Eton and his sister before running up the stairs, leaving them alone with the witch.
She pointed her stick at Camilla, who flinched away.
"I could make this not hurt, but your breed deserves a little pain."
She smiled. It was a mad smile, one of a person that enjoyed others pain.
Eton stepped away from her. His back pressed against the wall.
She twisted her wand and said, "Obliviate."
A shudder rocked Camilla's body. Goosebumps appeared on her arms. She collapsed to the floor.
The witch turned to Eton. He glared up at her with the same determination that his mother possessed.
The woman brought the stick to his head. He imagined an invisible shield growing around himself. His skin itched and the wand grew warm.
The stick twisted against his hair.
"Obliviate."
He shut his eyes and fell to the ground. He held his breath, hoping that his performance had been believable enough.
The witch gave a burst of light laughter before walking to the door. Once Eton heard it shut, he jumped to his feet and raced up the stairs.
Eton dashed through the hallway, haphazardly crashing into the walls. He arrived at his brothers room out of breath. He threw the door open to see Jet throwing clothes into a trunk.
"Where are you going? What did the witch want?" Eton panted.
Jet did not look to his brother.
"There was no witch, Eton. Just a professor from Saint Peters, a boarding school in Boston. I've been offered a spot. It's an opportunity I can not ignore. It's the top boarding school in the country."
He spoke stiffly like he had a script right in front of him.
Eton stepped further into the room, shutting the door behind him. He narrowed his unusual green eyes at Jet.
"You're lying. You never lie."
He stepped closer to his brother.
"Is the witch making you leave? I can help you escape."
"There is no witch!" Jet bellowed as he slammed the trunk close.
Eton jumped back. His forehead furrowed.
"Why won't you tell me what's happening?" Eton cried.
Jet turned to his brother. He stood up straight, towering over Eton. His jet grey eyes stormed. Through clenched teeth, he said, "I'll tell you once you tell me what happened to Kilo."
The air crackled between the two brothers. The stick in Eton's hand begged to be used.
Jet turned away first he grabbed his trunk and slammed the door open. The last Eton heard of his brother was the shutting of the front door.
He sunk to the ground with tears in his eyes