Page 20 of Spell Ya Later

Roses

An entire Sunday lies before me, and I have nothing to do. No one to answer to, no one to please, no one. I can do whatever I want.

And I want magic.

The smell of it, the way it flows over my skin, the all-encompassingwarmthof it. There is no comparable feeling. There’s nothing on this Earth that can recreate the overwhelming sense of peace and calm.

And I’ve only done one spell.

Household Spells for Beginnerssits on my glass coffee table, beckoning me like an old friend. My hand skitters over the old leather.

“What new things can you teach me? What doors can you open for me?” I ask the air around me. I shake my head.

Air can’t answer.

This time I’m going to read more of the set up, and not just jump into the first spell I find. I want to do this right. The font is swirly, exaggerated, but still surprisingly legible. The pages crackle as I turn them.

This version is well loved.

Before you embark on your magical journey, it is imperative that you prepare your space. While spells don’t require an altar—and many witches don’t use one once they become more connected with their magic—it can be a grounding space for the new witch. Create your altar with your magic in mind. Candles, herbs, and crystals can all enhance your own connection to magic and your element. Experiment and find what resonates within you.

Altars?Elements? Crystals? I’m not even past the first page and I’m already in over my head. I wish I had some basis of understanding, some bulk of knowledge I could pull from, but I’m just shooting in the dark. All because of whatever happened to my father. All because my mother couldn’t handle it and decided the best way to move forward was to cut us off from a huge part of who we are. To isolate us.

A frustrated growl rips out of me. I’m sosickof being isolated and small.

I need help. I need guidance.

I need Grandma.

My hand blindly searches along the couch until I find my phone threatening to fall behind the cushions.

Hazel: Grandma, I wanted to try out my spells but the book says something about an altar? And elements?

I will be entirely unsurprised if she tells me to wait until Monday to discuss training, as she called it. But I want it now. Despite not understanding half of what this page says, I feel a pull in my gut. The breeze from the open window ruffles my hair.

Grandma: Meet me downstairs in half an hour.

That’s even better than I was expecting.

I jump up from the couch and bound into my bedroom, brushing the tangled mass that is my hair.

Grandma is fantastic, but she can also be savage. It’s where Laura gets it from.

I grab my keys from the counter and wander downstairs to the shop a few minutes early. Even with the lights off and the silence hanging in the air, the store is still warm and inviting. With all the occult items in here, and considering how I’m terrified of my mother’s basement, which contains no witchy things, I’d expected it to be scarier.

My fingers trail along the candles. Scented and unscented. Is my magic more an unscented candle or a scented candle?

That’s something I’d never thought I’d consider.

The book said to find whatresonateswith me. How do I figure out what resonates with me? Is there a tingly feeling? A little witchy voice in my head that will tell me which one is right?

“Starting without me?”

I jump so high I swear I float a little at the proximity of Grandma’s voice. I turn to find her right behind me, a twinkle of mischief in her eyes.

My hand lands on my chest, feeling the erratic beat. “You scared the shit out of me, Grandma.”

Shetsks at me. “No one should be able to sneak up on a witch. But we’ll fix that.”