Sweet Menace (9 page)

It was dawn and I was back home, considering whether to go to my shop or stay home. Both ideas seemed absurd and my brain was only commanding me to the kitchen. No leftovers in the fridge, I surrendered to the spoon and the peanut butter jar. My left hand fed my hunger while my right hand was mixing stuff in a deep mug. Pushing the doughy mix in the microwave, I turned it on high for three minutes. The personal size cake was glorious considering it was cooked in a microwave. A bowl of vanilla ice cream in my freezer screamed my name and I couldn’t help but to put it all in the table and start nibbling here and there with the same spoon. Now I know what depression is about. Engulf myself on food and cry a sea of tears that nobody would be allowed to see. Tears impossible to count.

At the end, I decided to go work. I have to live of something. My determination was teeny but I had to follow instincts, no desires. As soon as I opened the front door and came inside my repaired store, my willpower started to wane. Sam’s face was everywhere and his voice echoed imaginarily through the speakers that started playing music.

Damn you, Enrique and Withney! Why to remind me this?
Could I have this kiss forever?
And not having felt Sam’s kisses yet, I yearned for them. I’ll keep a single kiss forever, I swear.
I can wait forever
, Sam had said when I moved away from him, avoiding an almost unavoidable smooch. My already weak knees trembled just by imagining how it could feel.

Stop this, Morgan. You’re just worsening this situation. They all have to die and he has to die as well. But what if…? No if’s, Morgan. Finish with your plan and move on. Cover that stupid heart with melting lava and turn it into solid rock.

Just one day with a real family had caused havoc in my purposes and I just wanted to be normal. A normal, ordinary village girl who wears dresses showing a little cleavage to trap a good husband. Who am I trying to fool? The least I want to be is a clone of Lavender or Connie Marie Blondie Man Eater. I want to be me. There should be someone out there who’s just like me. The meaning of my spells. The reason for my Maghik. Someone who can see the beauty in little things and wouldn’t be afraid of creating havoc if necessary. He has to be somewhere hidden in this senseless world.

As Edora had said, I should stay away from Sam. The reasons weren’t precise but I wanted to know more. Curiosity was attacking me despite being busy filling puffs with cream. What if he’s truly a witch hunter? Would he want me enough to leave everything behind, his hunting and hate for those gifted like me

The day passed by normally. People coming and going, eating and paying. Smiling outside, criticizing me inside.

The phone rang a few times. I delayed answering the call as I was far from it. Truth was, I wasn’t in the mood for running and jumping over dirty tables just to get a customer’s call. I went to the bathroom to wash my suffocated face. The phone started ringing again. This time I managed to pick it up before the call was ended.

“Sweet Menace. What can I bake you?” -I joked, trying to be heard happily.

“Hi, I’m Elizabeth. Can I speak to Morgan, please?”

Elizabeth? Oh, Sam’s sister was calling me? This couldn’t be good.

“How are you, Elizabeth? It’s Morgan.” -I answered nervously.

“Hi.” -Nervousness could be heard over her words. -“I just wanted to thank you for saving Lilly’s party yesterday. Had it not been for you, the whole birthday would have ended a mess.” -Elizabeth praised me.

“It was nothing, really. I’m happy that Lilly had her cake after all.” -I said hoping for her to say goodbye and hang the phone. It was very uncomfortable talking to her.

“I keep wondering how you keep those cakes so moist and delicious in your van.” -She said but it sounded more like a question.

“Oh, I have refrigerated coolers and the whole back of the van is refrigerated to ensure the quality of the desserts I deliver daily. I have a little of everything there, like a foodie flea market.” -I found myself explaining my crazy behavior to Sam’s sister. -“I do caterings and all sort of things for parties.”

“That’s great! Well, it was nice talking to you, Morgan. You can come by the house any time you want. Lilly will be delighted to see you. Mamma will be happy to see you too.” -She offered.

“Thank you!” -I answered. Somehow I felt welcomed into Sam’s family again. I felt awkward to be the first to finish this call so I waited for Elizabeth to do it. I didn’t want to be taken as bad tempered, but the seconds passed by and I felt impatient. -“There’s anything else I can do for you?”

“Can I come by tonight to visit you or is it too intrusive? I just love my brother so much. And Lilly is like… in love with you now, Morgan. You really have a charm.”

Her request left me speechless for a moment.

“Yeah, you can come by tonight.” -I answered, regretting it immediately. -“But I must warn you, Sam and I are just friends. We barely knew each other a week ago. Maybe is too soon…” -I interrupted myself thanks to two different fake coughs from behind the counter.

When I turned around Edora was comfortably sitting close to the big window and Sam was standing right behind me.

“I’ll talk to you later, Elizabeth.” -I said, emphasizing her name. -“I have a few customers to attend. Thanks for calling. And say hi to Lilly and Mamma.”

Panicked, I didn’t know who to look, so I looked from Sam to Edora. From Edora to Sam. His eyes were red, like if he spent the night crying. His facial expression confessed how hurt he felt. My heart gave a flip, almost tearing my bones to jump to his hugs. Edora, on the contrary, was enjoying every moment, challenging me with her fire-changing eyes.

“Can we talk?” -Leaning towards me, Sam whispered close to my ear. I felt like a butter bar left abandoned al fresco and the sun was excruciating, but yet I wanted to melt just to prove it was worthy of trying.

“This is not a good moment, Sam.” -Shaky, I managed to say.

“Why was my sister calling you?” -He asked, frowning.

“You’re feeling well? You look pale.” -I changed the topic. His resemblance was worrying me. Maybe I should take him to a doctor or something. -“Should I take you to the hospital?”

“I’m alright. I just need to talk to you. About yesterday… About last night.” -Suddenly he grabbed my hand and started kissing it. Yes, I was a melting butter. -“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken you home yet. I don’t know what I was thinking. I… I should have asked you first. I’m sorry. I can understand you’re scared but believe me… I won’t do it again.”

Edora walked impatiently from my store now. Her arms were crossed in front of her as if she was my mother and I was about to get a month-long grounding for having a romance coming through my bedroom’s window. Her stern eyes were fixed on me and she arched her eyebrows like to remember me the words she told me last night.

Managing to rip my hand from him I thought how cruel I was. How crueler I should act in order to send him away. To make him think what an evil woman I am. Perhaps doing some Maghik would force him to stay away. Perhaps that would be my grave. Dying this second was tolerable to me.

“
It'
s
better if you leave.” -I dared to say while inside I recognized how bad he was attached to my heart. -“Please.”

He looked at me in disbelief. Trying to mutter some words, Sam found himself voiceless.

“Just go.” -I snapped. -“And please, don’t come back.”

After Sam left, about-face and everything, I just wanted to sit and cry for the second or third time in less than twenty four hours. Edora’s fluttering motions prevented me to give vent to my pain and rage. Maybe I should release my rage with her. Perhaps she was the first to be killed with the perfect killer dessert.

“You did well, Morgan. Anyone would think you’re made of steel feelings.” -Her faked praise was more than what I could withstand.

For long seconds I looked at her. There was no force, human or supernatural, with the capacity to deviate my defiant gaze from her.

“If looks could kill!” -Edora teased. If only she knew how wrong she was doing just by being here.

If looks could kill, I’ll make doughnuts for your funeral, little bitch!

Funny how a killing spree was the biggest of my ideas. Proudly I’ll claim as mine all the credit for the slaughter of this little demon. Happily I’ll dance over her dead body and make a curse, firstborn, just for her. Without worry I’ll crush all her bones myself and with her dust I’ll poison the witch behind her intromission in my life.

“Now, Morgan.” -Edora called me, breaking me away from the spell already gathering inside. -“Focus here, okay?”

Focus? I was focused a few seconds ago. Focused on killing you, freak of nature!

“What else you wan
t
fro
m
me? Haven’t I done what you told me? And yet I don’t even know why I do what you tell me.” -Standing tall, I yelled at her.

Walking towards her I was certain I would jump over her, to rip her neck with bare hands, when she broke in a disrespectful laugh. Edora kept laughing while imitating my unstable walk. I stopped on my tracks, ashamed and upset.

“If you were as powerful as you’re thought to be, with your great Maghik you would fix your legs and walk normally as every other girl.” -Edora said right after stopping her catty laughter attack.

“I don’t want to “fix” my legs. I don’t need fixing.” -I protested offended. -“I’m not broken.”

“But it’ll make your life simpler.” -She kept bothering, trying to make her point.

“I like the hard way.” -I assured and I hoped she got the message, because she would get the hard way too.

Right after she left, I discovered a few things. Edora had come to say nothing. Sam thought he was the one to blame for my sudden change of mood. Elizabeth was a very protective big sister who, according to Edora, was a hunter as well as the other members of their family, excepting Lilly. One thing bothered me more than the others.

Why Edora kept coming and going, delivering useless messages and yet the witch she represents remains invisible?

Maybe I should follow Edora tonight. Or I should get ahead of her and take a peek to the candy house.

Edora already knew my plans for the night. Elizabeth was supposed to come by to a cordial visit so if she was stalking me to vent my life to the witch- the one I’m starting to doubt that even exist- she’ll be hidden somewhere near my back garden, dog-watching my every moves.

What I should do was to re-call the last number that called me and apologize to Elizabeth and offer her to meet some other time this week. Then drive unstoppable until it was so late I have no chance to change my plans and poke my nose around that candy house of terror.

There was no need to leave a note behind or notifying my dear ones about my whereabouts. Nobody would miss me if I get eaten by risking myself entering to an evil witch’s territory. It was easier if I just vanish, leaving no clues behind. Thus, it will be easier for Sam to forget about my futile existence.

Reason abandoned me during the ride. My heart was talking to me. Oh, sweet talk I didn’t need to hear. Too late to feel regret, I was exiting my van, ready to find some answers. Under the gaze of the prying eyes of some neighbor, I knocked on the door, naively waiting for someone to open. A few knocks later nobody answered. Maybe the house was empty. Maybe the whole house was just a façade.

It was curious how the house seemed so ordinary watched from the street, but crossing the fence was more than enough to get another perspective of it. A candy house that forced people to break in, alluring them with promises of yummy dreams. Turning the door knob, it opened without any complication. Not even the creaking sound I was expecting to happen. My heart beat like a blender in high speed, crushing ice to slushies.

That’s how it is, Morgan. Haven’t you seen movies? Easy access to the victim to be. Then, just death in a thunder.

My stomach churned in pain. Maybe because I didn’t ate anything since the binge eating of this morning.

Everything looked ordinary inside the house. No weapons or killing machines could be seen at plain sight. Not knowing why, I felt relieved.
Ignorant Morgan. You’re letting the guard down. How could you? Watch out, a stab in the neck! A poised spear to the heart! A pet dragon hungry to eat witchy flesh.

The morbid thought forced me to look behind. My imagination was tricking me very bad. A green-skinned woman with scars all over the face was in the back of my mind. Perhaps a milk-white girl with dark eyes crying bloody tears. Black lipsticks, red eye shadows, a variety of broomsticks to fly away.

It was my fault though. In the search of the truth about me and my nearly extinct specie, I have read way too many books claiming to tell the real witch story. None of them convinced me in the least, but apparently some of that nastiness forced an impression in my innocent brain. None of those books were real. Only works of fiction trying to conquer a high, unattainable pedestal.

The house was empty excepting for a bookshelf holding two lonely books. When I approached to take a closer look, my face inches away from the dusty books, a bad odor hit me. The upper book stank like rotten flesh. Vinegary sardines with fermented brine. I flinched and held my breath to avoid leaving my ADN splattered all over in form of vomit. Despite the stink I came even closer to read the inscription on the book spine but the writing was unknown to me. The other book, the one in the last shelve, was bound in cheap red cardboard. Its title was easy to read:
The Witch Queen and the Hunter
.

Curious, I snatched the book from the shelf but cracking noises at my back didn’t allow me to check it. The floor started trembling and some wood panels of the floor collided. Everything around swayed like a hammock. Earthquake? I wondered. But no. I had come to the witch’s den. Falling to my back I tried to protect myself from falling things that weren’t inside the house a few minutes ago. Objects ricocheted towards me without mercy.

Extending my hands, I called my Maghik, the little I know of it anyway. There were no pans and ladles to cook my way out. It was then that I realized how little I knew of Maghik. Fighting against the haunted house, I managed to get back on my feet. It's unclear how I got to walk away from that room or how I stumbled against a window, but the harder I tried to open it, the more the house resisted. I wondered if I decided to stop fighting back, the house would stop attacking. Maybe it was craziness and I shouldn’t risk the try.

“Go away if you want.” -A funny voice boomed through the house. -“The book stays.”

The book still clutched in my hand turned a green flame and I threw it to the floor despite it didn’t burn me. The movement stopped and something kicked me out of the house. Flying through the window, I landed into a bush of thorns.

It was late when I came back home. Rain was falling heavy and thunders lighted my way to park my van in my garage. My body hurt and my butt was in big pain. A few thorns were still buried on my skin, tearing off my flesh slowly and painfully. I just wanted a bath, a good one, and eat, eat a lot. A poisoned coffee or one of the killing desserts I was planning for the town could be good for me too. I felt tempted to just jump into bed and throw my soft blanket over me, cover my face with the pillow to cry and sleep, although not necessarily in that order. The stink around me forced me to prioritize the shower. I smelled like the rotten flesh book.

I didn’t turn on any light in fear that it might scare the lightning away. Grateful for the darkness and occasional red, white and blue sparkles I managed to calm again. Heart back to normal, I enjoyed the darkness again, thinking how I had always been in the dark. On the way to my bathroom I undressed completely. There was no better cover than my own skin. At least in the dark. Despite how hurt I was and how torn my skin turned in the last days, I felt fuller than a week ago.

A few minutes of waiting gave me the hottest, soothing water I urgently needed. So peaceful and calm. The silence was something I had always enjoyed, including tonight. And I had missed its presence for a few days now. I couldn’t blame Sam for taking it away from me. I had enjoyed him too. The hype of his caring family, the romanticism of a first date. But all those things were just fleeting things in my life. I had to let it all go. I couldn’t hold them to me as an anchor and sink together in the doomed ship that my life was.

It wouldn’t be easy, no. It wouldn’t have to be necessarily fair. But it was the wisest thing to do.

Tears gave signal of life again and I let them free as well as the sobs gathering in my throat.
But I love him.
My heart claimed. And I hated myself for that. For loving him in first place. For accepting that I ought to let him go. For allowing Edora and some invisible witch to dominate and manipulate me.

“Where have you been?” -His voice asked me and I almost fell of fright. How an echo of him managed his way into my unconscious brain? I thought I had fallen asleep right under the hot spray of water. The shower curtain was rolled open and I crutched like a frightened kitten.

“What are you doing here?” -Noticing Sam was real and I wasn’t asleep, I managed to ask with trembling voice. Unable to pronounce another word I tried to cover my nakedness with the shower curtain.

“What where you doing, Morgan? Escaping from me, from your store, your customers, your own house? Doing what, Morgan?” -Sam stood still waiting for an answer. His eyes were puffy red and a soft beard appeared in his face. He was so damn cute and was here for me. Why would I obey someone apart from myself? Why would I fear other forces beside my own? -“Why are you crying?”

Just a shudder I did, but tears kept coming from my eyes. I was a mess. A big, painful one. A tangle of lies and tricks and now I didn’t know how to even fix myself. Yes, I’m broken. Not physically but emotionally.

“Shh.” -Sam tried to calm my cry. Getting his hands inside the shower, he took the shampoo and washed my head, massaging my temples and rubbing my scalp. Soft hums from the depths of his heart pushed me to an abysm of desolation where just love seemed the perfect healing balm. Sam stamped kissed on my wet hair right after rinsing away the conditioner. The compassionate gesture made my cry harder and as answer he gave me a sympathetic smile. Quickly I was tucked in a big white towel and Sam was carrying me to my room, leaning me down on the bed. He hugged me hard and I flinched with the pain of my lacerated skin. -“Are you hurt?”

I tried to deny but he was already examining my skin with the tip of his fingers. It was a caring touch but even though I couldn’t read minds I knew what was in his. In every battered part, Sam placed a kiss. Somehow I felt no shame, just an enormous happiness which I have to abandon soon. Dizziness wrapped me and I hugged him, not ready to let him go. If I was honest with myself, I would never be ready to see him go.

“Don’t you ever do this to me again, Morgan.” -Sam whispered in my ear. His words melted me whole. Between his strong arms I was just a piece of butter melting in his hot, rich love. Wanting to cry even harder, I cuddled closer to him, as closer as I could get and Sam held me firmly, rocking me to a deep sleep.