Recreating Magick

Book One: Spellbound

Chapter Five

Loosing touch with self

She was dreaming again. She could see the hazy outline of a stone path and dark alleyways devoid of light. She felt the stone beneath her skin, scraping at the palms of her hands. She could hear in a distant part of her mind the sounds of people, crying out as one. Over and over a horrid howling so terrible that Steffen could not wrap her mind around the concept of such overwhelming piercing decibels. A cloaked figure wrapped in night, the sight of a thousand swirling symbols bleary and running together like rain drops on a window.

One by one the symbols became brighter, and Steffen could see them with more clarity.

Uruz…

Raido…

Gebo…

Hagalaz…

Pertho…

There were more. Other symbols made from an ancient language, a language that Steffen was beginning to understand. The whispers of the old spoke to her, hissing and murmuring long forgotten meanings into her ears.

Initiation, soul shaping, spiritual progress, personal destiny, karmic union, sacrifice, obligation, misfortune, damage, shock, powerful natural forces, initiatory event, mystery…

Unfolding of fate.

One with the night, Steffen dreamed on connected between this world and the next.

---

“STEFFEN JONES GET UP THIS INSTANT!!!!!!!!”

Steffen rolled over and slapped at the air, already knowing that her mother was next to her glaring down at her. Hopefully some well-aimed smacks will at least get that terrible screech away from her ears. Her hands slipped through empty air. There was no quick rush of motion as her mom jumped out of the way. This was enough of a red flag to send warning bells ringing in her ears. That and the fact that even though her mother appeared to be nowhere near her she was still yelling loud enough to rattle the bedpost.

“I MEAN IT STEFFEN! GET UP NOW!! WE NEED TO TALK!!!!!!”

Being a night creature Steffen did not take kindly to these orders and simply rolled over in the bed pulling the blankets over her body. To get rid of the insistent racket she reached over and flicked on her radio. Blissful death metal blared throughout the room and Steffen was rocked to sleep by the sounds of Children of Bodom.

That was until she was flicked on her noise by some unseen hand. Aggravated and still a little out of it she automatically lashed out to grab hold of the hand that had just dared touch a part of her body without her permission. She barely registered the fact that she wasn’t seeing the hand she held hostage until the ghost was face to face with her.

Memories flooded back in the zero point five seconds it took Steffen to yell bloody murder, slam a fist in Louis’s hovering face, and leap out of the bed already grabbing hold of the nearest weapon, her pillow.

Death metal still bleared in the background but it was no match for her mother’s vocal chords.

“STEFFEN LEANNE JONES! I WILL NOT REPEAT MYSELF AGAIN!!!!! OUT OF BED! IF YOU DO NOT COME DOWN TO THE KITCHEN WITHIN THE NEXT FIVE MINUETS I WILL HAVE TO--”

Against this soothing backdrop Steffen could feel Louis’s eyes on her. He was getting that look on his face, the same look as the night before. The I’ll-kill-you psycho murder expression that started the whole mess in the first place. Steffen heaved her pillow over her head and glared back at Louis.

“You need to learn some manners.” She told him, her voice icy.

“I could say the same thing to you.” Louis hissed back.

“STEFFEN!!!!!!!!” Her mother yelled.

Sighing Steffen got off the bed and stood on the wooden floor. She turned the music off and was greeted by the ever more powerful mother’s yelling.

“SHUT UP!” She yelled putting all that she had behind that one sentence. Louis’s mouth instantly closed and an open drain next to her bed was covered by a falling piece of her clothing silencing her mother’s shouting. ‘Ah” she thought, ‘so that’s it. I need to remember to keep that drain closed so that I wont have to wake to her damned yelling in the morning again.’

Suddenly exhausted, Steffen collapsed onto the bed. She placed a shaky hand to her head. She could feel her heartbeat everywhere within her body thumping painfully in a harsh beat. ‘What’s wrong with me?’ She thought to herself trying to ignore the stabbing pain of a migraine.

“You over worked yourself again,” Louis told her, as he lowered himself next to her.

“I didn’t do anything,” She told him, so tired that she could care less if she was talking to the walking dead. “All I did was get out of bed.”

Louis smiled and lifted a hand to brush a stray strand of her golden brown hair. Carefully he tucked the wayward lock behind her ear. Steffen told herself that the rush of heat that spread across her face at the tender motion was not a blush, but only a slight fever.

“You are capable of much more than you give yourself credit for. Try to take it easy and not use so much of your…”

Here he paused, the look on his face unreadable. “Strength.” He finished weakly. He could feel her spring green eyes on him. For an instant he thought that they had softened into a smile, almost as if she accepted him. Must have been some hidden wish for as soon as the thought flitted through his mind he was greeted by a cold hard snarl.

“Pick up your mess you dick. I want my room spotless when I come back” She growled. “You did this last night. Now fix it.”

With that she grabbed a pile of clothing off the floor and proceeded for the door. She turned “I don’t know why, but I know for a fact that you can’t leave this room without permission. My permission. Follow me, and you die.” She slammed the door shut and thundered down the steps toward the nearest unoccupied room.

As soon as the door slammed shut behind her, Steffen leaned against the back of the door and slide down the wood until she rested on the floor. She hugged her legs close to her body and focused on breathing at a normal pace. Tears threatened to spill from her tightly closed eyelids. Long ago Steffen told herself that she would never cry, not even when she was alone. The weak cried, and Steffen prided herself on her strength.

The very strength she seemed to be loosing.

Her reality was becoming some type of gothic novel. That was ironic. There was no denying that Louis was real. He could touch her, just as she could him. They were able to communicate with one another. To her, it was as if he was a real person, not a ghost. She didn’t understand any of what was going on. Her mind was a whirling jumbled mess of daydreams and reality. Her body was throbbing from some unknown source of uttermost pain and her head felt like it was going to split in two. To top it off, every time Steffen looked down at her hands she could swear she felt them pulsing, almost glowing.

Not for the first time Steffen questioned her mental state. Maybe the move had made her already fucked up mentality that much more screwed. The abilities she was honing were not something she wanted. She didn’t need to be loosing touch with herself. Not again.

Time slowed to a crawl as Steffen sat in the room. She felt the hot sticky trail of tears but could care less. She had no idea how many hours had passed before a soft knock echoed through the door she was slumped against.

“Steffen?” The soft voice of father resounded “Are you in there?”

Sniffing Steffen pushed her hair back and hardened her face to that of her customary fuck off mask. “Yeah,” She bit out, ignoring the rush of tears she could feel pushing past the knot in her throat.

“Your mother and I would like to talk with you.” A pause. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah”

Again, the awkward pause as her father stood uncertain of what to say. Finally “Okay. If you would, please come down into the kitchen.” Steffen waited for further word from her father but none came. After some time she could make out the sounds of his footfalls leaving her behind. Steffen pushed herself up off the floor, grabbed the clothes she had used as temporary tissues, and pulled them on.

In the kitchen both of her parents sat at the table. As Steffen entered they stiffened and shifted before settling heavily in their chairs. Steffen made a self-conscious check of her face before sitting before her parents. Were her eyes red? Did they somehow know she had been crying? Why were they looking at her like that?

Helen was the first to speak up. She looked flushed in the face, but for once, she was not yelling. “Steffen,” she said calmly, putting on her on-air face, “your father and I would very much like to know what it was that you were doing at three in the morning.”

Three in the morning? Again, she was assaulted by the image of Louis. His smirk and all too personal touches, the outline of his body resting within the mirror, his hand on hers…

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” Steffen bit out stiffly. “I was asleep”

“That’s not what the repair men told us.” Her father said, “One of the worker’s room is right below yours and he told us-”

“quote,” Helen cut in, her face turning an awful shade of red “,I woke up to this banging and smashing. I could have sworn their was a tornado like them things in Texas above my head it was so loud.” Helen leaned in closer to Steffen, her face pinched. “Now what do you make of that?”

“In addition,” her mother continued, “I was jolted awake by the same crashing that the worker, your father, and all of the other people within this household heard. Would you please inform me what it was that I heard while I was trying to sleep for the first time in days.”

Steffen was beginning to see that this was not going to end well. She couldn’t tell them the truth. The fact that she had hit a ghost and the ghost had gotten so pissed off that he threw all of her stuff around the room. Oh, and lets not forget the cyclone. Yeah, they would really understand that.

“Helen,” Steffen began a curse on the tip of her tongue, but both her father and her mother interrupted her at the same time.

“DON’T YOU TALK TO ME LIKE THAT YOUNG LADY!” Her mother screamed. Steffen leaned back in the chair, God. What she wouldn’t do to be wasted right now.

“Helen!” Her father yelled, “Calm down! This is not going to get an answer from her. You know this!”

Coolly, Johnson returned his attention to his daughter. “The point is Steffen, you have broken your promise.”

“Promise? What promise?” Steffen cried out, truly shocked.

“The promise that we talked about before coming to New York. We told you that if you misbehaved again, we would send you to the girl’s academy. Seeing that you have already breached your contract you will be sent to New York’s Disciplinary School for Girls this Wednesday.”

“Because of your little tantrum” Helen cried, “The workers have threatened to quit! They think it was that stupid ghost. What’s his name? Lilly? Oh, It doesn’t matter! My beautiful project will be ruined. I cannot loose this company. They are the best in the state!”

Steffen felt numb. Her mother was still whining before her, but she didn’t seem to hear her. Quietly, she leaned the chair back, got up, and pushed the chair underneath the table. She looked at her parents for a moment and without saying a word she left the table.

“Well,” Helen said, shocked, “I guess that went better than we thought it would.”

Johnston watched his daughter leave, “I don’t know Helen. For some reason, I think she’s telling the truth.”

“Please!” Helen scuffed “She wouldn’t know what did it. At all? Even though it happened in her bedroom. Who else could have done it?”

As one they looked at each other “Louis” they said.

Helen cupped her chin in her hand. “I think Steffen did do it, but I have felt for a long time some kind of presence. You don’t think it’s one of them?”

“No,” Johnston replied “and if it were they can’t have Steffen. She isn’t one of them. We made sure of that.”

“Yes,” Helen replied, “we did. We’re only trying to protect her. Her mother—“

“Let’s not talk about it,” Johnston said as he got up from the table, “the walls have ears.”

Together Johnston and Helen left the kitchen, the image of their daughter in both of their minds.