I stumbled out of bed, got dressed, and went down the hall.  I was expecting a big breakfast, with crispy bacon, pancakes, fruit, cinnamon rolls, and a giant “Happy 18th Birthday.” As I turned the corner, I saw my parents standing together, looking as if they needed to tell me something. My excitement immediately spiraled downhill and exploded into the confusion and curiosity that killed most cats. My parents sat me down and explained everything. Throughout my whole life I thought I was a living and breathing human being but, things were about to change.
As dramatic as it might seem, I did not freak out, I did not get mad or angry, nor was I happy. In fact, I believe I was in awe that it had taken them eighteen years to tell me my true identity. My first thought was, “Why now, why today, and who else knows?” I packed my book bag and walked to the end of the driveway to wait for my best friend (and secret crush), Bixley, to pick me up for school.
As I waited, my parents leaned out of the door and said, “We will talk more in depth of your abilities when
you get back home this evening dear.” I shrugged the comment off, not wanting to hear what they had to say in that moment or thinking it was that important. Bixley got there ten minutes late like always, he was never on time. It was a thirty-minute drive to school, and as soon as I jumped in the car, he clicked play on our favorite jam. The whole way to school we sang off key to the music and I forgot all about what I really was. At school, one of my questions was answered.
Everyone knew what I was, even my teachers. They pointed their fingers, stared at me all day, and acted as if I would hurt them. I shrugged it off and tried not to pay attention to the names and shrewd looks that were thrown in my direction. At lunch, I ate alone and finished the rest of the day in silence listening to all the rude and snide remarks. At the end of school, I met Bixley at his car and asked if he had known all along about me, and if so, why did he still choose to be seen with the outcast of the school.
He enthusiastically replied, “Girl, you are my best friend. I would never lie to you and yes, I knew before I picked you up this morning. I am going to treat you normal, like I have the past ten years. You are no different to me now than you were then. I will always be here for you, even when no one else is.” His reply built my confidence and I was ready to face the world. As we rode home, everything was completely normal; songs were sung and little conversations took place about whatever came to mind.
Back at home, my parents took turns teaching me new abilities and ways to control my powers. I had to admit, I was actually having fun with my parents for the first time in a long time. It was like my whole world was opened up and I was a completely different person. The next day, I picked Bixley up at his house and showed him what I had learned; He was impressed. At school, my day was again ruined by the other kids and this time they yelled at me. Each and every hall, every classroom, everywhere I went was like total torture. All I heard was, “Witch. Witch. You’re a witch!” and as others ran away, “Please don’t hurt me; my parents will sue”.
I didn’t know what to do and my only reply was, “I’m not a bad witch, I’m a white witch, there’s a difference! I only do good magic.” No one believed me and I was expelled. Days went by without any words from Bixley and I thought our friendship was over. My parents thought I was depressed, but what do they know, right? A few weeks later, I got a text from Bix telling me to meet him at his house that night at dusk when the stars are just coming out. I agreed and arrived promptly on time.
The first thing I saw were signs taped around the trees in his front yard. I read aloud what the first sign said, “When you were expelled, it broke my heart.” I didn’t know what to think, but kept on reading them as I went by. The second sign read, “So here’s my way of saying I want to make this night special…”  I rounded the corner of his home and he was in a tuxedo. I couldn’t help but think Bixley actually looked extremely handsome in a tux. He was holding the third sign as I read aloud, “Will you make me the happiest guy in the world and go to prom with me?” My mind went thousands of different directions, wondering if that was a joke, whether someone had put him up to it, or if he was genuinely being serious.
As he looked at me, I realized I hadn’t answered him yet, and said “yes.”
As Bixley held his arm out, I took it and immediately remembered that prom was last month. I looked at him in a complete and utter misunderstanding and he simply replied, “I know school’s prom was a while ago, but tonight is our night. A night for us, and a night for you to remember. Now, may I have this dance?” I took his hand and we danced in silence to the music until our feet couldn’t take it anymore. Towards the ending of our prom, Bixley laid out a giant comforter and set up a screen for a movie. It was one of our favorite scary movies and while we watched it, we drank soda and ate buttered popcorn underneath the moonlit stars. It was the perfect night; one that I will always remember. By the end of the movie, I had already fallen asleep. At some point in the night, Bix took me into his home and laid me down on the couch. He knows I am always cold, so he even remembered to drape a blanket over me.
When I awoke the next morning, breakfast was already cooked by his parents, so we all ate together. Around 10 o’ clock, I left to go home. As soon as I got home and walked through the front door, I saw my parents jump up from the couch and run to me in extreme eagerness. They had spells that allowed them to read minds, so they didn’t even need to ask how my night had gone, even though I’m assuming they had a part in that plan last night. I smiled as I made my way to my room and of course, worked on new spells so I could present them to Bixley over the weekend.
On Saturday, I got an unexpected visitor. It was Bix, he was shaking, and I could tell he was nervous about something. He began saying, “Now don’t get me wrong, the other night was perfect; it was probably the best night of my life. I came over this evening to tell you that”; right in the middle of his sentence, his phone rang. He got a serious look on his face and said that he would be there within ten minutes. I stared at him in disbelief, wondering why he had blown me off for a phone call. He left immediately and wouldn’t tell me where he was going, when he would be back, nor did he finish telling me what he had to say.
The next day, I went to his house and we got into a huge argument; he told me we couldn’t be friends anymore for reasons he couldn’t say. I was so upset that I drove home, went straight into my room, cried for hours, and didn’t come out until Monday afternoon.
Monday afternoon, my parents made my favorite dinner of chicken casserole, string beans, and creamed potatoes; it was so delicious! As I ate, my parents carried on the usual conversation about their daily activities, and occasionally laughing about the exciting moments that occurred at their jobsites. When all I heard was silence, I looked up to see why they had a sudden absence of words. They had a blank look on their faces and all I could do was put my head down and think about Bixley. Could he not want to be my best friend, could he have a new best friend, or maybe he has an overbearing and controlling girlfriend he hasn’t told me about… yet? Of course, with all those thoughts, my parents got the hint and wanted to talk to me about it.
For the next two hours, we had an in depth discussion about the past week. At the end of the “therapy” session, the only conclusion was to give our friendship time. As easy as that seems, it wasn’t. Every time I drove by his house, every time he posted on Chat Snap, and every waking moment, it took every piece of every spell to not talk to him. What I could have done differently with Bix is all I thought about.
For the next few weeks, my life was dreadful. Sitting in the living room, practicing spells, and watching movies is all I had accomplished. Then, the unexpected happened. Bixley’s name popped up on my phone. I read the message out loud, not believing what it said. It wasn’t from Bixley, but instead from his parents saying, “Bixley was in a freak accident. Please get to the hospital on Willow Walk Dr. immediately!!! He’s specifically asking for you, only you.” All of my irritation and frustration came out at once, and was replaced by fear and anxiety. I arrived at the hospital in less than seven minutes, which is usually a fifteen-minute drive, and ran inside to meet his family. They embraced me as I entered, told me about his extremely fast progress and that he’d be okay. After about a thirty-minute wait, I was allowed to see Bix. Upon my arrival into his room, all I saw was his big smile and nonchalant appearance like nothing had happened; all Bixley could do, was explain.
I sat in the chair beside his bed, and he began by saying, “I apologize for the other day, walking out on you, and especially for raising my voice towards you. It’s just so hard to explain everything I want to say to you. So here goes nothing. When I got that phone call and had to leave the other day, I was called in to a group hunt. I couldn’t tell you about it because, it’s supposed to be kept a secret. I swore on an oath.” I sat there blank faced and curious about that mysterious “secret” club he was a part of, and what exactly had he made an oath to. He continued by adding, “Your parents already know what I am, and our families have been friends for decades. I came over the other day to actually come clean and tell you what I am and what I do. I thought you wouldn’t be my friend anymore and that’d you’d actually think different of me. In reality, I’m not mad if you hate me.” He exhaled and began again, “I’m actually not happy I’m telling you like this, but I do need to tell you.” I wanted to tell him to spit it out all ready, but just kept listening intently. He kept me waiting with a little pause and then continued by saying, “I am a fourth generation witch hunter. I’ve been hunting witches for over seven years and it’s become a part of me. Now, I know we’ve grown up together and you’re a witch, but I love our relationship, and I love you. My only question is, why did you come to see me when I know you thought I was mad at you, and that our friendship was over?”
That answer was simple and I replied, “Boy, you are my best friend. No, I didn’t know you’re my natural born enemy but, I am going to treat you normal, like I have the past ten years. You are no different to me now than you were then. I will always be here for you, even when no one else is. I just have one more secret. I love you, too.”