29 April 2012
Chapter 3: Full of Surprises (Part 1)
Lily
Like a magnolia painted wall, I disappeared into the background and sat in class as an observer, not a participant. I brooded over the loss of my friend. I saw him a few times but always from a distance. He seemed to have made friends quickly and I often sighted him with a group of lads. They were always laughing and looked as if they were having a good time. He danced in the sunlight whilst I sculled in the shadows.
My miserable disposition didn't make me very approachable. Weeks passed glumly and soon I realised the time to make friends had passed. Everyone was in their groups and had their place. The popular kids had been identified and Jace was one of them. For the first time ever, he wasn't associated with me anymore.
I was that strange girl who didn't say much and spent far too much time in the library buried in books. My homework was always completed on time, which put me in the nerdy category, which was never an attribute for being liked. Sadly, the only reason I was up-to-date was because I had nothing better to do with my time. Too shy to change the way things were, I just accepted it. I avoided speaking to anyone unless I really had to.
After a month of this I was absolutely miserable. It wasnt getting any easier. I went home determined to find a resolution.
In the dining room, I pulled open the bottom draw. There was mums best paper. I selected a sheet and borrowed a beautiful fountain pen that had a long peacock feather protruding out the top. I hunted for mum's sewing box and pulled out a shimmering pale green ribbon. Moving to the dining room table, I placed my items out in front of me.
*'It hurts to never spend time with Jace' *I wrote on the piece of paper. As I wrote, the words swam on the paper and a tear rolled down my cheek. I had never felt so alone with no-one to talk to and writing down those few words gave me some form of relief. It acted as an outlet for my loneliness and was a very cleansing experience.
I tore out the little note and quickly bound it with the ribbon. I didn't want mum to see it. I knew if I tried to talk about it I would cry and it always made her sad. Once bound, I placed it under my pillow. Maybe it was the magic working or maybe it was the release of my pain in words on paper, but what I did know was, I felt better already.
As a creature of habit, I obediently recorded it in my book of shadows along with details of previous spells I had cast. It was a beautiful book. The cover was made of black velvet and had a hard metal star pressed into it and the edges of each pages had silver gilt.
None of my spells ever worked but mum told me with practice I would get better. When I was younger I had believed her, but now I knew better. Magic, like any subject, is something some people are just naturally gifted at whereas others need to work hard at it.
Although, there was something therapeutic about magic and despite my spells never working, I always got a sense of achievement. I had done something about the problem and there was hope that something would come of it. That alone made it worthwhile, for hope.
Drift 2.1: Full of Surprises • Opuss № I