short story

Felt like posting a short story.

If you read it, tell me what you think.

Attaching it didn't work. So, it's just posted below.

Price to Pay

My heart’s beating so hard I can feel it reverberating in my ears. There is a level of terror rising in me that I have never thought possible, and as it reaches its peak I let out a horror-filled scream. The roller coaster safely reaches the bottom of the hill, and my fear of flying off the track dissipates.

My friends are laughing as they get out of their cars, but when my best friend, Celia, sees my face she remembers how I loathe these rides, and her laughter fades. The only reason that I rode was because I had promised Celia I would for her birthday. Her birthday is one of the many interesting things about her, as it falls on Halloween. I believe that even if this hadn’t been her birthday it would have been her favorite holiday.

“Jamie, are you all right?” Celia looks at me with concern, and I can see that she is regretting forcing me to ride. However, it is her birthday, so I smile through my uneasiness and give a lighthearted reply.

“I’m fine,” and I mean it. The pain in my chest is gone and I can feel my pulse slowing down. Her short, ragged blond hair is causing the sun to reflect into my eyes, and I take a step forward to relieve the glare. The way she stares at me tells me that she doesn’t believe what I said, but she lets it go, obviously thinking I am making an effort because it is her birthday.

Hunter, my other best friend, comes over to join us. I first met Hunter in my seventh grade class and we instantly clicked. When one of the deadbeats in my class was belittling him because he was new, he calmly turned around. With an air of superiority he coolly flipped the kid’s desk over, with him in it. The idiot was so surprised he just stared at Hunter, who had already gone back to his book. His tall frame blocks out the sun as he approaches, his dark brown hair taking on a softer shade with the light behind it.

“I think that ride is on the verge of breaking down. It’s a good thing we got out in time.” His tone is serious, but his eyes are joking, so I know he didn’t mean it. After giving him a playful punch we start down between the stands that are clumped into groups throughout the fair. Staying with the spirit of Halloween, the stands display unusual items that I never would have expected to find in a store. Pewter cauldrons, red incense, and Tarot cards lie scattered on the surface of one booth, while another shows long robes in an astonishing array of colors. Silver inscribed athames set on a deep purple cloth are next to the robes.

I’ve never really liked Halloween. Something about it has always bothered me- but, looking at the athames I feel drawn to them. Drifting over to them, I vaguely realize that Hunter and Celia have moved on unaware.

There is one knife in particular that my eye seems drawn to. Slightly thinner and longer than the others I notice that the inscription upon the hilt of the knife looks familiar. I pick it up to read it. But before I get a chance, something begins to happen.

There is silence around me where before there was noise. An eerie kind of quiet. It is unsettling, and it makes me draw my jacket tighter. I feel like the athamae is a part of me that was once lost, and now that I am holding it I feel different. No, different is not the word. Powerful is how I feel and it goes past human logic. It makes me believe that the Laws of Science aren’t there. That part of me has known all along I could defy them.

Suddenly, I see a scene unfold before me, not from my mind, and I somehow know that the athamae is causing it. I see myself years from now in the middle of a dark room, lights swirling around my body as though they were trying to encase me. The smoke is white, but there is a dreadful feeling about it, a sort of underlying evil you wouldn’t notice unless you looked for it. My eyes in the vision are crazed and power-hungry and I know that whatever my future self is doing is not trustworthy. Entranced I watch myself take the athamae that I am also holding in the vision and prick the tip of my finger. Leaning it over a decanter, I let a few drops fall. The atmosphere in the room changes. The smoke no longer tries to be deceitful but turns a sickly black and I stare in horror at myself as my future self becomes maniacal.

As quickly as that vision appeared, it changes. The apparition I see now is still me, but I am different. I lie on a bed outlined by the setting sun behind it. My eyes are no longer insane, but what I see frightens me just as much. They contain immeasurable sadness and grief. Looking closer I see many lines that should not be there only a few years from now. The self I see looks so desolate and insecure that it almost makes me cry out in pain. A dark, heavy feeling cloaks the room, and I know that the girl on the bed can never truly be happy again. Somehow, in the passing of a small number of years I have experienced more horrors and trials of the heart than is healthy for someone to bear. Looking more closely I see that she cradles an athamae, and even more startling is the discovery of knowing that she blames the athamae for all of her pain.

When I feel that I must end what I see or go mad, the vision ends. I am standing by the little booth again, my hand still clutching the knife. When I go to release it, wanting to get rid of it as soon as possible, I realize that I can read the writing carved onto it. It reads:

Magik is not as it appears, and is not something one can walk away from.
You must know the nature of the path before you pick it. Choose wisely.

Seeing what I just have, I need no time to decide. Gently laying the athamae back on the table, I step away from the display. Instantly, the sound comes back on. I hear the screaming of kids and the voices of many people. I know that I just gave up the chance to become a formidable force of magik. I also know that nothing is worth the price of what I saw. Turning my back on the booth, I walk away from the shade of the exhibit and into the light of the setting sun, content with the fact that my greatest problem is a roller coaster.

 

well, actually, the way the sound "comes back on" was specifically written like that. it's like from her poitn of view, the sound was literally shut off during the visions.