Hello all!

I would like to thank those who alerted and those who favorited, respectively: Nevergonnafitin, TheHungryRainbow, We're All M-M-Mad Here and Aplin.

Also, RandomWierdGirl, your review made me write soooo fast! :)

Note: All the descriptions of the trip are real, from my experience at different airports around the world (including the Denver airport)

Enjoy!

Chapter 4: The Trip

"Simone, honey, you're going to be late!" Mrs. Jones called out from the living room, making her daughter panic even more. Simone's leg was jumping up and down as she sat at her computer desk, clicking hurriedly.

"I'll be down in a minute, mom!" She yelled back and then urged her computer. "C'mon. C'mon, you slowpoke!" The door to the teen's room opened and in stepped Mrs. Jones.

"Honey, Evie has a computer at her home. You can play when you arrive there." She spoke, packing up the rest of the leftover things from her daughter's room in a bag. Simone glanced over, but then quickly returned her eyes to the ITunes software that was making her go insane at the moment.

"It's not about the computer, mom. I just need my music on the trip." Mrs. Jones shook her head, but didn't comment as she closed the bag and headed out.

"Just hurry up. You still haven't packed your backpack." The woman reminded her nervous daughter. Simone nodded, her eyes still fixed on the number of songs that were currently being transferred to her phone: Syncing 'Simone's Phone' (step 4 of 4), Copying 15 of 158: Familiar Taste of Poison. The teen jumped up, leaving her computer to do the work.

She walked to her bed, which was covered in things that she planned to pack into her carry-on. The teen opened her blue backpack and started placing things inside. She packed two books, 'Soul Music' by Terry Pratchett and 'The Best of Healing Spells: Fix your Cuts' by Melinda Darkowl. The ride was going to be long and she would need some entertainment. Then, Simone picked stuff up from the bed, dividing which to put in and which to leave in Colorado. Pretty soon, she was ready.

Last, she turned to her computer, noticing that the ITunes software had finally finished its job and transferred her music. Simone grabbed her phone and the USB cable, putting the former into her pocket and the latter into one of the smaller pockets of her backpack. She quickly jumped into her Dr. Martens, the fateful shoes that she never took off and laced them up by memory.

Throwing her backpack over one shoulder, the teenage witch turned around to inspect her room for the last time. It was bare somehow, now that she had packet most of her stuff away. The shelves, usually filled with books and papers (her notes on different subjects and spells) were kind of empty, the leftover tomes falling to the side without support. Her closet door was open, showing empty hangers and shelves, where her clothes used to be. Her bed was all made-up, perfect in the sky-blue sheets with little stars that she had bought but a year ago. The computer stood alone on her desk, all the CDs that were usually around it gone. The window seat was still the same, a pillow and a blanket lying there, but it was empty somehow, as Simone had a feeling that she wouldn't sit there ever again.

The witch closed the door of her old room, a tiny sigh leaving her mouth. Little did she know, that she would never see that space again.

As soon as the teen entered the living room, Mrs. Jones grabbed her arm and began pulling her along, towards the door. Simone wordlessly followed. She knew from all the trips that she had taken with her mother that one simply did not refuse the woman when she got like this.

"Out. Out." Mrs. Jones pushed her daughter out of the house, locking the door quickly. The dark, sleek Mitsubishi was in the driveway, Mr. Jones packing the last suitcase into the small trunk. He seemed to be having some trouble, as the car was made more for speed than for travel. They usually took the Mercedes-Benz when they went on a holiday. "In. In." Mrs. Jones was right behind Simone, her slim, but strong, fingers griping the teen's elbow and pushing her into the back of the car. Undoubtedly, she would have bruises from those fingers due to her pale, easy to bruise skin, tomorrow.

Simone slid into the leather seat, immediately noticing the old cat transporter. Inside was her new familiar, looking about wildly. He knew that something was going on. That reminded her. She still needed to pick out a name for the little guy. She had tried not to name the kittens, as they would have new owners anyways. Simone hadn't wanted to become attached to the little ones. Who was she kidding, she had cried the whole day yesterday because the house was empty of little padding creatures. At least she had hers now. From the first litter. Like it was tradition.

"It's a bit big for him, isn't it?" Mrs. Jones had buckled into the front seat. She was twisted in the comfortable, leather chair, looking at her daughter. "It's a bit big for him, since it was Medea's, but we didn't really have time to purchase anything for him. I still can't believe that you've kept him. And not to mention said that to Melody's daughter!"

Her mother was rambling. Again. Simone suppressed her eye roll. Of course she had said quite a few words to Clarice. The girl was being a bitch. Usually, Simone wasn't that forward. She preferred to keep her thoughts what they were, thoughts. Yet, when the girl had begun assaulting the small kitten with such hurtful words, she couldn't help herself. The poor animal didn't even understand the girl's hatred. It couldn't even defend itself. Besides, it wasn't like Simone was going to see Clarice much after the day before. She was moving two states away, to California. Hopefully, she would stay there until college. That hope was not going to reach her mother's ears.

"All set?" Mr. Jones had entered the car, buckling up. He looked into the back through the mirror. "Buckle up, daughter dear." The man said jokingly, but it was an order. Simone felt her hands tremble, her fingers cold as ice as she buckled up, as her father requested. "Blast off!" Mr. Jones turned the car on, parking out in a smooth, fast motion. Like a pro, Simone smirked as her mother grabbed the door handle, her eyes wide. "Cath, darling, I remember that you like to drive fast, no?"

"No!" The woman shrieked, but it was too late. The Mitsubishi sped away from the calm, ordinary driveway. Simone stared out her window for as long as she could, looking at the normal house that she had been living in for more than seven years. She was going to miss it. They turned a corner and the familiar scene faded away from sight, into the teen's memory.


They arrived to the airport just shy of Mr. Jones's 'an hour early' rule. After Mr. Jones's driving, which had stayed quite wild throughout their trip, the woman seemed even more shaken when they had left. As Mr. Jones passed the entrance ramp, found a spot and parked the Mitsubishi, Simone could see her mother counting off her mental list of things on one hand. As soon as the car came to a stop, Mrs. Jones shot out of her seat, patting her hair into its proper position and rushing towards the back door. She opened it and motioned for Simone go come out.

"Out. Out." The woman ordered, her hand motions jerky with nervousness. Simone grabbed the cat carrier, causing the white fluff ball to meow pitifully in protest. She peered in as her mother headed for the trunk and saw the little guy with his legs spread wide, little claws out, tightly clutching the 'potty pads' which lined the carrier. His fur was sticking up and he obviously wasn't liking all the moving and driving. Simone couldn't imagine how he was going to behave on a plane.

"Calm down, little guy." She cooed in a whisper. "You're gonna be just fine. I promise." The kitten let out another meow, but kept hissing in displeasure.

"Simone, honey, hurry!" Mrs. Jones called out, pushing the cart with her daughter's suitcases towards the tall, fancy building. Simone grabbed her backpack and slammed the door of the Mitsubishi, running to catch up with her parents while trying to keep the cat carrier steady.

"Easy on the car, daughter." Mr. Jones had winced at the slamming of the door. "She's sensitive." He tapped a button on the car keys, locking it. Simone looked at her father, rolling her eyes at his obsession with his car. Mrs. Jones snorted in laughter in front of them. "Excited?" Mr. Jones asked, side-hugging his daughter with his bag-free hand.

"Terrified." Simone replied under her breath, careful that her mother doesn't hear. Mr. Jones laughed, patting her shoulder, but didn't offer any words of comfort. Simone had a reason to be nervous. This would be her first trip alone, by plane, to a person she barely knew. Well, barely remembered.

Simone had taken a trip on her own some time ago, when she had been fourteen. She had gone to her grandmother's by train. Thus her idea to travel by bus, the closest to what she knew. Of course, her mother had obsessed over that trip as well. Mrs. Jones had booked the ticket, helped her daughter pack, called her mother a dozen or so times and then begged the security at the train station to let her see her baby off to the compartment of the train, much to Simone's utter embarrassment. But, despite the fact that the teen wanted to deny it, even now, she had been comforted by her mother's overreaction. She hadn't panicked that much on the train trip. Of course, she had had her grandmother waiting for her, just as the doors opened, not some unknown woman that she hadn't seen in eleven years.

The glass doors of the airport building opened and the family rushed in, heading for one of the queues for luggage check-in. Mrs. Jones insisted on going all the way to the woman behind the counter with her daughter, gripping the teen's arm in a bruising, vice grip. Mr. Jones stood back, outside of the blue line dividers. He had a smile on his face as he watched the back of his wife's hair, ruffled by his rough driving.

"Hello, Miss." The woman behind the counter greeted, Simone walking forward. The teen couldn't collect herself enough to read and remember the nice lady's nametag, as she usually did. Instead, she placed her passport and printout of her internet ticket, prepared all the way in the back of the queue, with frozen fingers.

"He-hello. How are you?" Simone's voice was tiny and broke on the first line, causing the woman to smile gently at her.

"I'm good, and you?" She took the teen's passport and ticket, clicking away on her computer. "Please place your baggage on the line." Simone and Mrs. Jones hurried to comply, the latter mostly just waving her arms about uselessly.

"I'm fine, thank you." The teen answered, remembering that she had been asked a question. The lady weighted her first suitcase (exactly 23kg, as allowed for free) and then plastered a stick on ticket on the handle, making the line move.

"Next suitcase." Simone complied, the bag feeling heavy in her cold hands. "First flight?" The lady asked as she typed. Simone nodded shakily, her wavy hair slipping over her eyes. The teen brushed it back with trembling fingers. "No need to be so nervous, Miss Jones. It's a short flight of about four hours." The woman smiled over the counter. "You have a small stop in Phoenix, so make sure to ask one of the stewardesses where to wait for your next plane when you land."

"Thank you very much." Simone said, accepting the ticket and her documents back.

"Here." The lady called out, giving her one of the stick-on tickets. Simone must've looked confused, as the woman elaborated. "For your kitten, she's quite cute."

"Thank you." Simone said, sticking it on by autopilot. She didn't even bother correcting the lady about the gender of her cat. The teen followed her mother shakily, looking much more composed that she was. Mrs. Jones seemed to be freaking out as much as Simone was feeling the nervousness. Mr. Jones awaited them with a casual smile, slipping an arm around his wife in an attempt to calm her down. She was still holding Simone's arm in a vice grip, like the teen would get lost in the crowd any minute.

They reached the check-in in what seemed like mere minutes, and pretty soon, Mrs. Jones was arguing with the security man to let her see her daughter all the way through to the plane. Just as the woman was about to hex the middle-aged security guard, Simone touched her mother's elbow.

"Come on, mom. That's enough." The teen tried to calm down the woman. Mrs. Jones shook off her daughter's worried hand, raking her fingers through her hair.

"I need to go to the bathroom." She said, leaving. Immediately, Simone felt the pressure on her bladder, like she had to go as well. Mr. Jones patted her messy hair, taking her attention away from the possibility of heading for the bathroom.

"She's just nervous." He said, smiling. "She's never sent you off to anything like this." It was in these times that Simone could see just how much her father loved her mother. His smile, at the woman's freak out, like it was the most adorable thing in the whole wide world, Simone was so envious of it. She wanted someone to love her just like that. For her faults. For her quirks.

"She looks as nervous as I am." Simone replied, pressing into her father's side, gripping her passport and ticket in one hand and the handle of the cat carrier in the other.

"At least you're covering well enough to get an Oscar." Mr. Jones rubbed her shoulder with his hand. "I think poor Leo would be jealous." The reference to Leonardo DiCaprio still having no Oscar, despite all the amazing movies that he had acted in cause Simone to let out a shaky laugh. "Remember the first day of high school?" Mr. Jones kept trying to make his daughter relax.

Simone belted out a loud laugh, causing a few people to turn and look at her. "How could I not? She walked me to my first class and then proceeded to stalk outside of the school!" The two laughed, remembering the incident.

As the laughter died down, Mr. Jones squeezed his daughter gently. "I'm going to miss you, my little Sabrina." Simone couldn't help her eyes stinging a bit as she teared up.

"Sabrina had terrible hair." She murmured into her father's shoulder, brushing her tears away when he wasn't looking. She didn't doubt that he knew, but he never called her out on it. Mr. Jones knew that his daughter wasn't as tough as she pretended to be, but he always let her keep her front up.

"Alright." Mrs. Jones's voice cause the two to split up, Simone hurriedly making a decision and pushing her cat carrier and passport into her mother's hands.

"Bathroom." And the teen ran off, thinking how her mother had probably fixed her hair into the amazing updo that she had now by magic.


When Simone arrived back to her parents, her mother was a mess once again. She had recognized the state from afar, seeing as Mr. Jones had the cat carrier in his arms and Mrs. Jones had taken to pacing in front of him, asking questions every moment or so.

"Simone! Honey! Finally!" Her mother had regressed to one word sentences. This state was always bad. "I was just about to go find you. I thought, you might have gotten your period early," Mr. Jones made a funny, borderline disgusted face, " you know, from the stress. So, I was thinking, you didn't pack any pads or painkillers into your carry-on. I don't even know if they allow painkiller into your carry-on? What if your stomach starts hurting terribly? Oh, Goddess, what if you get diarrhea?" By the end of his wife's rambling, Mr. Jones seemed ready to burst into laughter and roll on the floor shamelessly.

"I'll be fine, mom." Simone said, her lips twitching in a smile. "I just needed to pee. I'm all good now. And I do have a pad and some painkillers, they are allowed on the flight, I checked." Her mother seemed to calm down a tad at the reassurance, but her father still looked ready to burst into laughter.

"Come here, honey." Mrs. Jones grabbed Simone into a soul squeezing hug and didn't let go until Mr. Jones coughed awkwardly. "Oh, sorry, you want to hug her, too, Sam."

"No, Cath." Mr. Jones smiled. "I would just like to keep her breathing." He joked with his wife who looked in between bursting into tears or pacing nervously once more.

"And she would like to get on her plane in time." Simone interjected, causing her father to laugh and her mother to offer a shaky, nervous smile. Mrs. Jones opened her mouth to, undoubtedly, give more babbling advice, but Simone cut her off with a quick hug, her own arms trembling. Obviously, she had inherited some of her mother's 'panic' genes. "I know everything already. What I don't, I won't remember."

And then Simone grabbed her cat carrier and passport, her blue backpack safely on her back and headed for the check-in. After she passed it and before she went around the corner, she turned to look at her parents one more time, at the last moment. Mr. Jones was there, in his old Denver Broncos hoodie and worn out jeans, looking nothing like the skilled lawyer he was. He was hugging his wife with one arm, like he often did, smiling happily. Mrs. Jones was shaking uncontrollably, her small, delicate fingers clutching at her mouth, the spark of her wedding ring shining in the bright airport lights. Her floral dress fell elegantly all the way to the floor, and she would've looked like a right lady, with her fancy updo and perfect make-up, had she not been so stressed.

Simone smiled wide, her nervousness vanishing for a couple of seconds and she gave her parents the brightest smile that she could muster. Despite all the arguments, she loved them both dearly.

"His name is Minuit." She yelled, causing her mother to break down in sobs even more, her father the only thing holding her upright.


The rest of the trip had been uneventful. She had gone numerous times to the bathroom, mostly unnecessarily. She had been stopped a few times at check-in, to take her familiar out of his carrier so that it could pass the X-ray. She had needed to take off her Dr. Martens, because of their steel tips, showing her mismatched socks proudly. But, all in all, her fingers had remained icy from her nervousness the whole way, but she had kept her cool the whole way.

The stop in Phoenix had been rather uneventful. Simone had bought some tea from a nice young man at the airport and then proceeded to check the board for her connecting flight every two seconds. In the end, she had seated herself in front of it, just listening to her music and looking at the empty space next to her flight ID number. Occasionally, she would pat the little ball of fur, who had awoken as soon as they had landed.

He had been absolutely amazing on the plane. As soon as Simone had seated herself down next to a couple from Texas, the little kitten had fallen asleep and then dozed all the way through the two-hour trip. During their stop in Phoenix he had demanded a bit of attention and Simone had risked taking him out and giving him some food, all while soothing him with her voice. She didn't dare attempt any magic in the open, both because she was at a public place and because she was less than untrained.

As the girl settled on her next flight, she had begun thinking of the name that she had given her familiar. It was well-known that the name of the familiar and its significance to the owner determined the power of the animal. Simone had chosen to name him Minuit, which meant midnight in French. That had been the name of the restaurant where her parents had met, in France and also the time when she had been born. Her mother had decided on her name based on one of the songs that was often played in the restaurant per her father's request. It had been their song. Midnight meant a lot to her. It was her favorite time of the day and it had always been special.

So, if Minuit did become a familiar, which she still wasn't certain of, she hoped that the connection and passion that she felt for his name would make him powerful.

The plane landed in Sacramento, CA, on time, and Simone headed for baggage claim, her nervousness taking over her once more. The woman that was waiting for her, Evangeline Forester, was her Godmother. She was an old friend of her mother's, like a sister to Mrs. Jones, and she was, as you had probably guessed, a witch. Simone hadn't seen her Godmother in eleven years, though.

She had vague memories of golden hair and coconut, along with laughter and a beautiful singing voice. Simone could remember the chocolate and the flying things about the house. But, nothing specific. Her Godmother was a Traditional witch, much like Simone's grandmother. This had caused a bit of a rift in between her and Mrs. Jones some years ago, before the Jones family had moved to Colorado.

Long story short, Simone was going into an unknown house to an unfamiliar woman based on her dreamwalking. With a deep, shaky breath, the teen pulled her suitcases off the baggage carousel and packed them onto a cart with some difficulty. Lastly, she placed Minuit's cat carrier on top and walked towards the exit.

The teen stopped before rounding the corner towards the waiting area. People walked fast around her, rushing to meet their loved ones. The young witch took a deep breath, calming herself down. Images of her dream flashed through her head. The fresh-smelling forest, trees and leaves all around her. The sound of running water to her left, like it was always in her dreams. The doe, jumping away on her long, elegant legs in fright. The Beacon.

An old lantern flashed through her mind, made of dark metal, curving in a beautiful way around a dancing ball of light that never stopped flickering with immense power. It filled her, called her, beckoned her to keep walking. And, Simone gave in.

She pushed her cart out of the doors, the suitcases making it rather heavy and looked around. The fresh air hit her like a ton of bricks, surprising her. For some reason, she had imagined Sacramento air to be just as dry as Denver air, just as full of exhaustion fumes. But, the air in her lungs was surprisingly warm, unlike the one at the airport, cooled by all the air conditioning machines. It was dry, but less than in Colorado. It was different. It was new. And it felt good.

Suddenly feeling much braver than before, Simone pushed her cart confidently forward, head held high. She forced the mental rehearsal of a hundred conversations with her Godmother to stop. She would face that when she found the woman. Which, she honestly hoped was soon.

The teen looked around, noticing all the signs that various people in the crowd were holding up. She didn't see her name. Simone walked forward, still searching about, panic slowly creeping into her bones again. Then, a melodic voice called out to her.

"Simone?" And she was home.

That's all folks!

I look forward to hearing what you thought about the chapter!

RandomWeirdGirl: Hello! Thank you very much for the lovely review! I'm so glad that you're enjoying the story :)

Anyways, about Simone telling them off, I think that it was just one of those 'I don't care anymore' moments, hopefully, this chapter sheds some light on it. She's a meek one, but with a whole lot of teen rage in her, which is a real difference from my usual OCs xD I'm struggling a tad, I must admit, but that if why she's so fun to write!

Hmmm, yes, I suppose that the women from the Coven so seem mean… Well, do remember, you are seeing this from Simone's point of view. She is quite biased in her opinion of them, as mean or rude as they are. Sometimes she even exaggerates in her narration, no? Hint: Look at her view of her relationship with her mother, it's rather hot-and-cold.

Thank you for all the compliments on my story! I take a lot of time to both create my OCs (even look for the best casting of them and develop a character sheet) and do research for every chapter. It makes me absolutely ecstatic when someone appreciates my work :)

About her name, I pronounce it as 'Sih-moan' (Like in Nina Simone), which is the American/English version. But, if there is a person that pronounces it differently in the story, I will make sure to emphasize it, since it's probably going to be important.

Hope to hear from you soon!