Every bone. Every muscle. Every fiber in my body feels as though it is on fire. The pain is excruciating. All my senses are heightened beyond belief. I can hear every breath. The mumbles between the nurses. Even the worry in the thoughts of my dearest friend, Camille. Brand new colors appear, resembling tiny explosions. Each individual thread of the linens beneath me are palpable under my tight grip. Drops of sweat, like ice on my skin, smell of salt and stress. I can taste the chemicals in the air. The antiseptics used to sanitize every surface in this tiny Irish hospital. The stench of iron from the blood of a wounded man down the hall. The latex of the nurses' gloves. My heightened senses surround me. Protect me. Protect her.
For nine months I carried my daughter in my growing womb. Protecting her from the evils of this world. Runes cover the wall of my tiny apartment. I perform daily protection rituals to keep her safe. This world is dangerous for those of us that belong to the Wiccan community, and I do not want to take any chances with the wonderful new life I have created.
I must protect my daughter from the world she will grow up in. Witches have always been persecuted. Generally non-magick humans and witches live in peace with no problems or qualms; for, most of the time, they do not realize we live among them. However, every so often, someone causes a stir and witches are revealed and blamed for the evils in the world; whether it is getting harassed, belongings ruined, or killed. Burning is the traditional method to kill a witch. It's a rather awful sight.
Too many covens are being wiped out. Towns, such as Ballynigel and Riverwarry, were decimated in one night. Inky black, scorched remains of Wiccan homes litter the towns. Charred husks of vehicles are strewn about the roads. Fields of crops become fields of ash. Every man, women, and child that practiced Wicca are found dead in the rubble. Their skin as charred as the roof that once protected them. Non-magick locals state that an evil force is destroying the towns. A dark wave.
Some witches do manage to escape, but it is rare. I heard rumors of a couple from Ballynigel escaping the destruction. I do not know if it is true or not, but I hope it is. I pray to the Goddess that this dark wave does not visit my tiny farming town, Kilkieran. My only wish is to raise my daughter in a safe place and teach her the wonderful and marvelous ways of magick and shield her from the darkness.
The gentle but firm voice of the OB-GYN pulls me out of my worried state. She peers up from between my legs, sweat already forming above her brow, and says it is time to push. My little one is ready to come into the world. I lay my head down on the thin pillow behind me and being to mentally prepare myself for the greater pain that is soon to come. A cold damp towel is placed on my forehead and I smile up at Camille and give her a look that we both know means thanks and hugs.
Suddenly all my senses drop as if they are being sucked away and my appreciative smile fades to reflect the fear that has entered my heart. Suddenly, I am floating in the quiet vacuum of space. Colors fade into blacks and whites. Sounds become faint, almost nonexistent. The bed disappears beneath me. The scent of burning cloth replaces the sterile hospital smell. I can taste the embers on my tongue despite my mouth being closed.
Something is wrong.
Someone is here.
I can sense their presence. It is as if there is a disturbance in the electricity of the air. Are they here for me? Or for her? It does not matter. I am helpless. I cannot run. I cannot use magic. The world is a silent and dim place because my magic is gone. I cannot defend myself. Or my daughter.
The doctor is oblivious to the fact that either I or my child are in danger. She keeps encouraging me to push harder. I try to focus on my daughter, but it is difficult. I can physically feel my strength seeping out of my body. Seeping from my core to my arms and legs to my fingertips and toes and straight out of my body.
The machines that I am hooked up to start going crazy. All sorts of beeps and whirrs are being emitted. Lights are flashing, and words appear on the monitors. The nurses scramble. I feel something stab my arm. A needle. Another nurse is emptying a syringe of some clear liquid into my IV. A sense of calm quickly rushes over me. I forget about the bad person in the hospital that is hunting me down. I forget about the evils of the world. I nearly forgot that I am having a child.
In my vision-blurred state, I somehow make out Camille sneaking out of the room. I remember the bad person through the haze caused by the drugs. She senses the evil force in the hospital too. I mumble silent protection spells under my breath to try and keep her safe. Who knows what this person, or thing, is capable of.
I must keep pushing. It is the only thing I can do right now. My body is weak, but I muster enough strength to push my daughter into the world. After seven hours in this hospital the pain stops, and I relax knowing that my job is done. A sharp cry rips through the air and I feel a wave of relief rush over me then a cold dread swarms over my body as the recollection of the dark presence returns.
It feels closer than before. Where is Camille? Is she okay? I whisper more charms and spells under my breath. All I can do is hope that I am helping. I am using the rest of my strength for these spells and I do not even know if I still have magic.
A nurse, with a birth certificate in hand asks for my daughter's name. "Maura Allanah Durnin" I respond with the little strength I have left. My head rolls to the side as a second nurse walks towards me with Maura in her arms. Beautiful raven wisps of hair covers her head. I manage to smile but just as my senses were starting to return they disappear again and all feeling is gone completely. The beeping begins again, but it sounds as though it is a mile away. The nurse with Maura stops in fear and stares at me. She quickly turns and leaves. I try to shout for her to come back. To let me hold my daughter. But no sound comes out. Nurses surround me and a doctor I have never seen before rushes in. I am wheeled out of the room, and I am too weak to ask questions.
Where are they taking me?
Where is my baby?
What is going on?
The last sound I hear, before the doors close behind me is the cry of a newborn baby, my baby.
The date was July 12, 1990.