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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1359669-Reverie-of-Yore-Chapter-1-Wicca-what
by Toast
Rated: E · Chapter · Fantasy · #1359669
This is my first chapter of a little book I'm writing and I want opinions...
Reverie of Yore
Chapter 1
Wicca What?
         Kristy Madison, a common girl from the outskirts of Boston, Massachusetts.  She had what most girls didn’t her father, was a surgeon of sorts, giving Kristy’s heart what ever it so desired.  Her belief was she had everything she ever wanted, except friends.  However one fall day, when the crisp autumnal-colored leafs covered the many streets; little did this brown haired girl know that her life as she whence lived would change.
         As Kristy made her way down the street with her friend Angie; they started to talk of the festivities of the upcoming All-Hallows-Eve.  As they graced each house as they walked past, their hair whipping through the wind, Angie said “Did you ever hear of Wicca?”
         “No” replied Kristy
         “You have never heard of the craft?!” said Angie, emphasizing each word as they glided over her lips.
         “Do you mean witchcraft?” questioned Kristy, suddenly coming back to her senses.
         “Yes if that’s what you want to call it” snapped Angie
         “Isn’t that supposed to be evil?” questioned Kristy with a bleak look on her face.  She could feel her heart pounding beneath her uniform, her palms turning sweaty, her ears as red as the fire hydrant they just passed.             
         “Some of it is but we don’t deal with black magic.” Said Angie, “Well if you’re interested, you can come to my Wicca gathering, it’s at my house be there by 9 Pm we will start the ritual at 12:00 on the dot, under the full moon.”
         Kristy didn’t notice they had stopped and were now standing in front of the black metal gate, leading to the entrance of her family home.  Angie gazed into Kristy’s deep blue eyes.  Until Kristy finally said “I’ll think about it.”
          Angie’s well rounded face lit up as she jolted down the street.  Kristy turned, sighing to herself as she pushed the large gate open.  She made her way up the walk to her house; shards of rain started to melt on her face, runing down her cheeks and slowly glideing over her lips. 
          She could sense a change wafting through the air, as she pushed the large wooden door open, revealing her lavishly furnished home.  Every where your eye could glance, there was surely something there to greet it.  Except for a mantle which lye seemingly bare with the exception of an urn which sat on the lonely mantle, with the name Saria Madison engraved into it.
         
She rounded the corner and screamed her father’s name; there was no reply.  She assumed he was working his oh-so popular night shift.  She paced her way to the kitchen
   
              She looked down and noticed a black cat in front of her.  Kristy stared deeply into the strange cat’s brown eyes, the cat returned the favor, and Kristy noticed something strangely familiar of the eyes she was staring into. In only one blink of Kristy’s eye, the cat was gone.

         Kristy walked into the kitchen where she was greeted by their house maid, Mary.  Kristy requested a drink and sat at the counter, welcoming herself to some of her freshly baked cookies.  She loved the maid’s cookies they were almost magical, she indulged herself in the taste, gazing out the window into the soggy grounds surrounding the house.  Her moment of time-stopping pleasure was broken by the maid giving her the drink she had requested.
         
         Kristy looked at the maid and said “Thank you very much.”

              The maid continued to work ignoring Kristy’s complements. Kristy then said “I am going to go to my room.”

                The bed, the bed was where she retreated, her room, the place she knew she was secluded, the place where she could think, but today she sat, she sat waiting on something that wasn’t going to come. And so she sat until the clock struck 8 that’s when she had begun to get ready to leave for the gathering. That is when what she waited for came; the thought of what this gathering was to bring filled the empty question slot in her brain. For now she asked “what am I getting myself into?”



Author’s note: Make sure you tell me of what you think so far every opinion counts. And if you have Ideas I will try to incorporate them in my little novel. Oh, and do you think it is worth continuing?
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