Chapter I - VI
The blonde has absolutely no idea where she is. The streets are wider and the houses bigger and more glamorous than on her side of town. And a lot more intimidating.
Her mother is a few houses down the street, at her weekly Bible Class she drags her daughter to every time, even though the child is still too young to actually partake in it. But when the little girl turns around, she dejectedly has to admit, that it is rather a house a few streets down.
She has absolutely no idea where she is or how to get back.
It is the first time she has ever ventured this far. Normally she is satisfied with the swing set, hidden behind some bushes and trees that are in dire need of trimming and away from the window her mother could spot her through. While the adults are hosting their sessions in the spacious kitchen of the town house, the few children that get brought along are set up in the living room, their own bibles or church related coloring books in front of them, and those are the days the little girl still isn't too fond of, but she stays indoors, because at least she has something to do or someone to talk to.
Mostly though, her mother is the only one accompanied by her daughter, and so she sneaks out the house as soon as the adults are completely immersed in their passages. The woman hosting Bible Class has no children of her own as far as the little blonde could tell, and so she has no idea why there is an old, abandoned swing set in the backyard, but on most of those days, she's still glad it exists. Today, she feels adventurous however, and the swing set has been covered in spider webs and unruly vines anyway. So she's decided to explore the immediate neighborhood, and unfortunately ended up much further from where she had intended to be.
It is rather ironic, how easily she manages to slip out of the house and the normally watchful eyes of her mother who prides herself on her perfect child raising abilities. If she only knew, how often the girl spends Bible Class outside, counting clouds and passing birds, only sneaking back in, when she is sure they are about to break off.
She never had a soft spot for God or Jesus and all the miracle stories her mother had cited as bed time stories for as long as she can remember. She just doesn't believe in what her mother believes in, has of course never told the woman that, which is why she knows her mother will make her participate in their sessions as soon as she's ten and old enough to be allowed to. She's dreaded that days ever since she had realized it. And since she found out she could move things with her mind at sheer will, she is afraid of spending her day in the company of a dozen witchcraft condemning Bible fanatics. She had heard too many of the stories to know what's going to happen if they ever found out. Of burnings and hangings and witch hunts and the last thing she ever wants to do, is experience any of those things. That's something even her six years old brain can fathom quite clearly.
She rakes her hands through her dirty blonde locks, turning on the spot once, twice, hoping to see anything that would help her remember where she's supposed to have come from.
She doesn't and a sigh escapes her when she realizes that she might not make it back before her mother finds out she's gone. It's not a situation she particularly wants to witness.
Two cars honk at her when she stops in the middle of the street and stomps her foot in frustration. She's not used to this much hassle – where she comes from she sees most people walking to the bus stop instead of driving their own car all the time. The majority of her time is spent in her backyard anyway, that connects to a larger forest where her mother likes to teach her different animals and plants. It's not that she doesn't like the time she spends with her mother outside, but, almost getting run over by a car, makes the girl wonder if their time hadn't been better spent actually preparing her for life outside the confines of her home and school.
Sheepishly apologizing to the driver of one of the cars, the girl comes to a halt in front of a beautiful white two story building, complete with a big front yard, surrounded by a large green hedge and an ornate entry Gate. She doesn't think she's even seen a house so glamorous before. She pauses for a moment on the sidewalk, gawking at the building's exterior in awe, before she pushes open the heavy Iron Gate and steps through.
Her clear and only intention was to ring the doorbell and to ask if they, by any chance, know of any Bible Class around here. All she knows is how the house looks, if she walked by it, she would recognized it immediately, but sadly she has no idea whatsoever on which street it is located or who it belongs to.
That intention however, wavers quickly, as she spots all the interesting toys and dolls littering the lawn. Most of them she has never seen.
One arrangement in particular catches her eye; somewhere in the back stands a red plastic table, lined with five matching plastic chairs, four of them occupied with plastic dolls that seem to be drinking tea out of plastic cups. The last remaining chair is probably reserved for the girl all this belongs to. Walking over, she takes one of the dolls out of its chair, inspecting it more closely. She's begged her mother for a doll for over a year now.
The only thing her backyard has is an old, pretty rotten tree where her father had put up a self made swing. But even for that, she had to beg and plead for a good few months until her parents finally caved and gifted her the makeshift swing set for her sixth birthday.
The house, her room in particular, doesn't look much different. Her mother is of the opinion, that girls her age don't need to play with dolls and toys, but rather learn the ways of the Bible and how to behave like a lady. The little girl hates both of it. Why can't she be a lady and still pretend to have tea parties or babysitter duties with her pretty dolls?!
"Hey! What are you doing?" comes a timid voice behind her suddenly. It's not hostile, but rather curious. It's probably not every day, that a little girl just walks into a strangers frontyard to admire things that don't belong to her.
Turning around she is faced with a beautiful brown eyed blonde around her age. She's a little shorter than herself but, she suspects, at least a few months older, too. Her skirt is a bright yellow, the matching shirt adorned with red roses. Her feet are bare, with nails painted in a dark crimson color that match her finger nails. The wild blonde feels suddenly under-dressed in her black sandals and black flowing dress, her hair unkempt and falling in unruly waves around her face.
"Nothing" she answers and, doll still clutched to her chest, walks in the other girl's direction. "She is pretty"
That's when the smaller blonde notices her doll and all the niceness from before is gone from her appearance. With a few steps, the girls stand face to face. "That's my doll. Give it back!" leaves small lips angrily.
"But I like her" comes the instant reply. She has no idea where is had come from, she has no intention of stealing anything, no doll no nothing, from the other girl, but something in the blonde's anger had set off hers as well.
"Give. It. Back." And with one quick motion the doll is back in its owner's arms, which promptly turns and stalks back over to the swing set she's come from. Not another glance is spared over her shoulder, and the wild blonde just stands there for a moment, clenching her fingers into fists. She's normally not the aggressive type, but she hasn't done anything to the other girl and still she's been met with nothing but hostility. And she does not like it one bit.
"NO!" the taller girl exclaims, more to annoy the other girl than out of serious want for that doll and both kids watch, as it lifts itself in the air and levitates across the lawn. About halfway over, it comes to an abrupt stop, hovering on the spot for a long moment, before moving back in the direction it came from. They stare at each other in surprise, they don't really know anyone else who can do that, too. In their moment of awe the doll has come to a standstill in midair, almost dropping to the ground when both girls' attention wavered form their task a bit. Then the doll is suddenly in motion again. For a long time, both girls are fighting over the doll without lifting a finger, standing almost on opposite sides of the big front yard.
"Stop it" the smaller girl cries.
"You stop it" the taller girl shoots right back.
"Both of you, stop it!" A third voice sounds from the front steps. "Are you out of your minds?" The toy hits the ground with a thud, both girls looking rather ashamed, studying their shoes. "Using your magic out in the open, where everyone can see you. How often did I tell you not to do that, Delia?!"
"I'm sorry mother" the girl in question bravely hefts her gaze onto the adult. She looks scared, but not enough so to have anyone think it's the first time the adult had snapped at her like that. "She try steal my doll" she mumbles on, pointing her head over at the other blonde.
"No, I don't" she starts to defend herself rather loudly. This is the girl's – Delia's- mother after all, of course she would believe her daughter. That's why she has to get her version of events out in the open as fast as possible. But she is cut off by the woman.
"Of course you didn't" There is no trace of sarcasm in her voice. "My daughter has way too much imagination. Tell her you're sorry, Cordelia!" The wild blonde just looks on in amazed shock.
"But…" It's a feeble attempt to get a word of her own into the conversation, but, she too, is immediately interrupted by the adult.
"No buts, Delia. Do it" Her mother is firm and if they hadn't just been berated for using magic in public, both girls are sure she would use it to force Delia to apologize. It actually scares them both into retreating a step or two.
"I'm sorry" but she doesn't look at the girl that somehow now stands right beside her. Her mother doesn't even acknowledge the apology, but rather stares at her daughter disapprovingly for another long moment.
"Now," Delia's mother turns her attention back onto the stranger then, sounding pretty annoyed for having to deal with this. "What's your name? I'm gonna have your parents pick you up and deal with you."
The girl pales immediately, near tears. "I'm Misty, but please don't tell my mommy."
Delia's mother scoffs and Misty has a bout of sympathy for the other girl. She thought her mother was bad, but she has a feeling Cordelia is dealing with way worse. "Maybe you should have thought about this before flaunting your Powers around here"
"They not know I do that. Please" Misty's wild blue eyes wander from Delia to her mother and back, frantically. "I think they hurt me" she almost cries.
The comforting hand on her shoulder is the last thing she had expected, but then Cordelia wraps the crying girl in her arms and into a hug. "Why would they do that?" Misty returns the hug immediately, clinging to the other blonde almost desperately.
"I 'spose be at Bible Class right now" Misty answers sheepishly, mumbling her answer into the other girl's shoulder.
"Then you probably should be two streets down at Mrs Henderson's instead of my front yard. What are you doing here?" Now Fiona is starting to get angry. She hates those Bible freaks and their shitty morale and views on everything not catholic or easily explainable, and if that little girl knows that Delia has Powers, it is only a matter of time until everyone knows about them.
Of course now her daughter seems to have found a liking to the other girl. That is just so typical; almost everything Delia does is just to spite her mother. Of course, she may have deserved it just that little bit, but that is the last thing Fiona would ever admit to.
"I'm afraid of them" Misty repeats "Mommy say witches are burned at the stake" she pauses for a moment to collect her thoughts "I got lost and I want to ask to get back. Please don't let them set me on fire. Please, please, please!" she is shivering now, and Delia pulls her close, sheltering her from the cold that isn't there. The look in Fiona's eyes is enough to send a shiver down Cordelia's spine, too.
"Oh, stop crying! I won't tell your folks" Fiona may not be the most compassionate person and quite frankly a pretty shitty mother, but she is definitively not, in no way, letting a six year old girl be burned at the stake.
Her words bring a little smile on the young girl's face and she couldn't stop thanking the woman enough. She's not afraid anymore, but rather excited to have found more people that seem to be like her. She's not so sure about the girl's mother, but maybe she and Delia could be friends some day and that the shorter blonde would be willing to help her understand what she is and what she can do.
Cordelia pulls back out off their embrace a minute later, looking Misty over to see if the girl can be seen in public, then she announces "Come on, I show you back"
A quick questioning look to her mother and a nod on Fiona's part later, the girls are on their way down the street, where Misty has come from earlier.
They walk hand in hand, Delia's doll in Misty's arms. The smaller girl has picked it up and shoved it at Misty just before they left the property. They both don't hold a grudge for very long - unless Delia is angry at her mother.
"Why you leave Bible Class?" Delia asks curiously.
"I get bored" Misty shrugs "I always leave"
That makes Delia laugh.
"You have Powers, too" It's an observation, nothing more. No question, because she has seen Delia use them; no judgment, because she has them as well.
"My family are witches" Delia whispers back. It's pretty unlikely that people overhearing them would take two six year olds saying they are witches seriously – but her mother taught her to be careful. "Mother is a leader or something, I not see her much" Misty recognizes, that her new friend doesn't sound too sad about that fact.
"I'm so sorry for taking your doll. I think you want to play" She changes the topic and, suddenly her shoes are more interesting than the conversation. She's still ashamed for how she'd behaved and for how she had lost her temper and used her powers in front of Delia. She was lucky it had been Cordelia and her mother who had caught her using magic, and not someone who didn't understand or didn't know about witchcraft being real.
"I'm sorry for saying you steal it" Delia squeezes their still joined hands. She's ashamed, too. She's been taught to be careful and to not use her magic in the open or in front of stranger. She's also been taught to be nice and polite to people, and not to fight with strangers over stupid things.
Then she suddenly stops. "It's over there. Mother don't want me to go there"
Misty turns, recognizing the house she'd snuck out off two hours prior. It's located at the end of the short street and she can see, that nobody is looking for her yet. She still has about ten more minutes to sneak back in. "Thank you" She gives their hands another squeeze, before letting go. Then she hands the doll back, but Delia wouldn't take it.
"You have it" She has more than enough dolls and toys to play with, something she would later find to have been a pretty clever way for her mother not to have to spend all that much time with the girl. And Misty seemed to have fallen in love with the doll.
"My mama don't let me keep it" the girl replies sadly.
"Then you play with it when you come over"
Misty leans forward to kiss her new friend on the cheek and, with a smile and a wave, bundles down the street.
It's the start of a wonderful friendship, however odd it started, and for the next few weeks, Delia picks Misty up in front of the house and walks her back every Wednesday afternoon. It takes Misty a while to be brave enough to tell her parents about her new friend and to ask if she can spend an afternoon playing with the girl, but after a long pleading and begging session, their play dates expand to almost every afternoon after school.