Ma always told me these stories about witches. That there is no such thing as a good witch, only dark ones. Except the night she left, she told me a different story. One about a girl named Melanie who was a witch with a good soul. A soul as pure as a flowing stream. Melanie may seemed like a normal girl when you see her but the truth is, she is a witch who hunts witches. And then, before she walked out that door, I remember what Ma spoke to me exactly, "Don't trust anyone you don't know. Trust is given to those who earn it... I love you, Ella." And in precisely 5 seconds, she was gone. Ma was gone. It was hard for me to take that in at only age 8, but to this very day, I never forgotten that day.
"I love you, Ella." Echoed through my mind. Like a scratched record just replaying, and replaying, and replaying. When I woke up that day, I decided to temporarily forget my memory of my mother for the sake of my attitude for my first day. I just sighed at the thought of that. My great uncle Dave thinks that I think too much. I just tell him that it's better than to think little, ya know?
After I did my morning routine, I hopped downstairs, skipping two steps as I did so, And greeted my uncle with a peck on the cheek. "Mornin' Uncle Grumpy, whatcha' making?" I cheerfully said as I opened the fridge, force of habit. "Eggs, bacon, some toast. Nothin' special." I smiled. My uncle is a very simple man indeed, and he is very protective of me. My last boyfriend kissed me in front of him, never saw him again. My uncle likes to call him, 'Mistake Jake'. I forgive him now but he can get out of control if he wants to. "You almost ready for your first day sweetie?" I sat down and took a huge bite of a piece of toast. "Yeah, I think so. Mind if I take Jackie today?" I asked while hitting him with a puppy dog face. Usually works. He sighed, "Alright but don't forget to-" I ran up and kissed his cheek and hugged him, cutting him off. "Wear a helmet, I know. Thanks Uncle Dave!" He gave me an accepting look which really warmed me up.
Okay, making a big arrival at my new school really was a terrible idea. I wanted to fly BELOW the radar but, I rode a Harley Davidson to school. I took off my helmet, put on some Ray Bans, and totally rocked the helmet hair. I swung my leg over Jackie, and right when I put my helmet on my handle bar some guy walked up and stared at my bike.
"Can I help you?" I said in a firm voice. He looked like a punk-kid. By punk I mean always getting into trouble and getting piercings. He began to touch Jackie. I slapped his hand. "Ow." He yelled. "No touch policy." He smiled. "Nice bike babe." He began to walk around the bike, examining it. "Don't call me that EVER again and don't look at my bike." He put his hands up like he was being arrested and grinned at me. I walked away very quickly.
I skimmed my schedule and surprisingly, memorized it, word for word. This is very weird. I threw my paper in the recycling bin. "First period, Writing. Second period, Music. Third period, Advanced Math. Fourth, Lunch.-" And so on. This is physically impossible. But I just remembered it. My thoughts are going crazy. Something stop this please... stop this. Then, the bell rang. I realized, it was time for Writing class with Ms. Moore.
"Hello class, welcome to Writing, and literature. I will be your teacher this year. Please grab a seat everyone." I could tell that this women was in her late twenties. She seemed like she would be a great writer. Her aura is going crazy. Aura? What am I thinking? "Excuse me, Eleanor is it?" I looked up, still a little lost in my thoughts. "Ella, actually." She slipped me a note. "I think you dropped this." And then she winked at me. I was very curious and eager to open this note. As I opened it, Ms. Moore began to introduce herself to the class, probably as she does every year. I slowly opened the note, trying my very best not to look suspicious. The note read, 'I'm glad to have you in my class Eleanor. I have heard much about you. May we talk after class? It's about your Mother. -Mel Moore'. My Mother? How would my Writing teacher know about my mother? Do I even have to think about this? I don't want to know. That horrible women left her family for some unknown reason! Almost like she never cared for us. The bell rang once again.
I remained in my seat, still thinking. "Ella. Come here please." I still sat at that desk. "Alright, I'll come to you then." She got up and walked towards me. Her footsteps sinking into my thoughts. "You are a thinker huh?" She said while smiling. I looked out the window. "Thinking helps me do just about everything. It makes me feel better, it helps me make decisions, and most of all, it makes me never forget... anything." Ms. Moore held out her hand, implying me to put my hand with hers. "Give me your hand Eleanor." I don't know if I trust her. What do I have to loose though right? Once my hand hit hers, I felt a force go from her body, to her hand, into my hand, which led to my head. Flashes of a different place ran through my head. Just quick and brief moments. But I could make them out. I don't know how but I could.
"Melanie, the time is near. She will be ready and you will know when. You will be her protector. Forever and always, from the day she's born, till the day she dies." I then came back from the flash, realizing her hand was still in mine. Her aura has changed color. A bright blue. "Your Mother was pregnant at the time, with you." Mel... Melanie. Melanie? "Are you-" She cut me off. "Yes, yes I am."
"Listen to me Eleanor, your mother is still alive. I need your help to find her." I am in denial, but at the same time I believed her. "Your mother was taken by dark witches. Very powerful witches who want to torture your mother for my doings. So, what's it going to be, Eleanor?" No more thinking Ella. Just doing. "I'm in."