Ghost

Whoosh, goes the crisp wind. I wrapped my checkered scarf more tightly around neck and yawned sleepily. I hate waking up early but now I hate it even more. Don't get me wrong, the cold crisp breeze of an Irish autumn is refreshing and I love it but still… I have to get up at five o'clock, that is at least three hours too early! I yawned again. It's tough being Morgan Rowlands, daughter of Maeve Riordan and Ciaran McEwan. I am a blood witch and with powers only people can imagine of. I smiled inwardly. What a ride it has been when realised I was a blood witch even though my family were devout Christians. That was the beginning of a journey of discovery. Some secrets I discovered wasn't all that happy but now I know the truth. Good and bad. Having everything out in the open was almost exhilarating, like a the whole lot of weight off my shoulders. Now I feel so carefree!

"Watch out!" a biker called, clumsily swerving out of my way. I was so caught up in my thoughts didn't notice the biker turn the corner. The biker rode out of control and onto the road, hit the gutter…hard and then fell and hit the curb… even harder.

"Oh my god!" I yelled, shocked. I ran anxiously to the beaten biker. Lucky he had a helmet on.

"Are you okay?" I asked anxiously.

"Oh, I'm fine," the biker said getting up slowly, " only some bruises, no biggy." He sounded unsure and he kept on rubbing his arm.

"Are you sure?" I asked again.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he nodded reassuringly.

"I'm so sorry about that," I apologized.

"No, it's all my fault," he said lifting his helmet and fingering his head gingerly. I noticed he had brown wavy hair, a medium build, his eyes fiery orange, he was dark and tan and he was quite good-looking. He almost reminded me of Cal. No, I dismissed that idea.

"Ow!" he yelped when he found a huge bump on his head.

"Oh, let me examine that," I said. He let me take a look at it.

"Oh it's not too bad," I said, "how about I patch it up?" I offered. He made a face so I hastily added, "it's the least I can do."

He smiled genially and said jokingly, "are you the doctor or something?"

I laughed, "something like that." He laughed too.

"Actually, I work at the local wicca store, down the road, you know Practickal Magic?" I said, "we sell herbs and potions for healing so maybe I can do something about that." I'm not afraid of talking about wicca to locals. They know witches live here. Yeah, I work at Practickal Magic. Funny aye? I bought a shop and turned it into a wicca shop and named it after one of my favourite place in the world. Now I own it with Cole. He let me have a loan but I wouldn't take it so now we own it together. Cole is a nice young man, kind hearted, always there to help out. He is like a brother to me.

Suddenly the biker gave a queer face. I was a little taken aback.

"Are you Morgan Rowlands?" he asked.

"Um…yes," I answered, wondering if I should've said that.

"Oh," he said simply.

"Well, should I fix you up?" I asked.

"What?" he asked absent-mindedly, "oh that, how' bout I take a rain check on that?"

"Just because I really need be somewhere," he added hastily seeing the perplexed expression on my face.

"Oh, ok," I said, a little disappointed. I always jump at the chance to do some good magic and healing.

"Maybe some other day," he said without a smile. He was busy trying to pick up his bike, "well good day to you and nice meeting you, Morgan." Then he was off without another word. Strange, I thought, very strange.