At the Funeral of the Gilbert Parents
Forest knew, always knew, that Greyson Gilbert was a weirdo. Something just felt wrong about him, an odd vibe he got from the man. That he treated Elena so much better than Jeremy only added to that as far as he was concerned. The man may have been his doctor for years, but Forest just never found it in him to trust the man. However, despite that, he did not say a damn word during the funeral of Greyson and his Wife Miranda. He just supported Jeremy, one of his only friends, and stood by him as he grieved.
Seeing Jeremy not even cry, the dead look in his eyes... it was a lot for Forest. Unable to say a word, he grabbed the boy's arm softly...
And nearly died as memories flew through him, flashes of painful memories he had no business knowing of.
'Greyson and Miranda, Dead on the slab. The sear of booze rushing down his throat. Numbing his pain through pills and pot. Contemplations of ending it all.'
He almost died, heat welling up from within his chest almost searing his heart, but a soft crack startled him out of what the hell he just saw. Turning, he saw a glass ball on someone's grave crack... and he swore he had done it.
For the rest of the funeral, he avoided touching Jeremy, but he stood but stood by him as they lowered his parents into the ground. Jenna and Elena took Jeremy away, but not before Forest called out.
"I'll see you later, Jer... kay?"
His friend, one of his oldest friends, nodded with the tinniest smile. "Thank you."
Shaking, he hurried away, back toward his trailer where he at sixteen lived alone. "The hell was that... I cannot... it... I need help, if this is going to be a thing, I'll need to learn to control it."
'Turn around.' He stopped, words whispering around him. He obeyed it, turning to see a door to a thrift shop opening up all on it's own. Stunned, he followed a sudden pull, like magnets were in the wind. Soon he was in the shop, looking at a bible sized book.
Grabbing it, he saw it was filled... with spells and potions, words in some Latin language he could somehow understand. "Does this make a me witch?"
The wind swirled and he felt like it was telling him yes.
He would end up buying the book, before bolting home, eager to get started.
Soon it became apparent he was a witch, and the book was designed to teach new witches. The book had belonged to a woman named Nancy, a witch that recorded the craft when it became apparent her niece did not inherit her powers. It had been sold to the Thrift shop after an estate sale, after Nancy had passed...
Hugging the book close, he cried. "I never thought I would have something like this in my life... thank you, life... for once, you gave me a gift..."
And so he studied, for the next three days, before his first shift at the Grill was set to start...
He learned to start lines of fire, move things with his mind, revive plants with spells, focus his divination skills... and how to put down monsters with a glare. That was was big, the grimoire spoke of vampires, calling them abominations, and it had over a dozen spells to put them down... starting with a pain spell, an aneurysm spell.
He made a point to master that one faster than the rest, not wanting to die at the hands of a monster...
Magic wasn't hard to learn, not really, but it was stressful. Headaches, exhaustion and nose bleeds... he had to be careful, and so he vowed to learn as much as he could, to survive the darker world of magic but to also ensure that he did not end himself by mistake.
Chapter end, tell me what you think in the reviews.
This was a joy to write.
Love, your Ninja Overlord,
Mika.