A New Friend or Foe

Chapter Two

One tear silently rolled down her cheek. She watched helplessly as the coffin lid was nailed into place, and her mother lowered into the wished she knew what had caused her mother's death. All she knew was that at the beginning of the year, her mother had received a whom she knew not. It upset her dear mother so much that she fell dreadfully ill. Now she was dead, and there was no one left for her daughter. She was all alone. "No," she whispered, barely audible. "No, Mom! I have no one else!"

She felt a hand on her back and saw an old man with white and gray hair, large nose, and thick glasses behind her. He had on a solid black suit for the funeral, and wore a sorrowful expression. "I am sorry, Erica. But there is nothing we can do now. We knew this day was coming...I'm sorry."

It was old Mr. Peloponia, who had been like a grandfather to Erica Riddle since she could remember. "I know, Sir, but I...I have no one else." The girl broke into sobs and asked, "Where will I live? Who with? You? Can I, please?"

The man looked at the distressed girl, pity showing in his tired gray eyes, and said, "I am sorry, Erica, but no. Your mother said that when she died, you were to be sent to your Aunt Mildred's house in London."

"Aunt Mildred? But-I hardly know her. I can't go live with her."

"Ah, but you must. She said...she said that she would be glad to have you if anything...er...happened to your mother."

Tears filled Erica's eyes again, and she choked back sobs. "I'm sorry, dear. Your mother...she was a great...person. She did many things for people, and was very beautiful...but she had a hard past, one you could scarcely imagine." The old man sighed. He wished that he could tell Erica the secret of her past. The girl was fourteen years old, and although she had shown signs of possessing magical powers, she had no idea that she was, not unlike her mother, a witch. Oh, how he wished to tell her, but he was bound by the unbreakable charm.

Erica's wavering voice cut into his thoughts. "When do I leave for London?"

"Tomorrow," he answered without thinking. He was staring at the tombstone that had just been planted. Here lies Layla Cunningham Riddle. A great woman 1970-2003 May she rest in peace.

~Emachinescat ^..^