Date Published: March 31, 2019
A crystal ball assures existence, but when separated from its divine setting many years ago, its waning vigor generates panic; various worlds will cease to subsist if not found in time.
The search intensifies as witches and mortals together strive to elude the obstructions of specters, including a demon, in their expeditious intent to exclude the probability of perpetual darkness.
Rena faced the doors of Whilom Elementary once again. She stared at the crevices she had never taken notice of all those years walking toward them. There was no reason to turn back; it was only an urge. Just as she was about to turn away, she gazed downwards, slowly; one door was ajar.
‘She probably didn’t leave yet,’ she thought because the door was slightly open.
Although Ms. Biddock’s reaction frightened Rena, she understood the reason for her terrifying behavior: it must have been humiliating for her watching her colleagues walk away without offering to help her off the floor.
“Hmm,” she murmured, scratching her chin, contemplating about whether to shut the door. "Maybe Ms. Biddock has cooled down and will offer her apologizes to me.”
She was eager to give Ms. Biddock the opportunity to do so. With each passing minute, which had only been about three, since the time of the “closing of the door,” she decided to take that chance.
“Hello? Hello?” She peeked, bug-eyed, tentatively pushing the doors ajar. “Can anyone hear me?”
Sunlight had shone through the old classroom windows; its rays beamed vibrantly through the unclosed entries, and into the deserted hallways.
She walked inside and stopped at the corner of the hallway that led to Ms. Biddock’s office. The entrance was welcoming; the light was on, an indication that she was still there. Rena proceeded, soundlessly, until a distant voice was perceived, mumbling; she believed it to be that of the principal … Ms. Biddock.
"Maybe the teachers came back,” Rena whispered under her breath. “She can’t be talking to herself.”
“I’ve used many words to describe what I seek! I’ve searched for passages until blood showed on my feet!”
Rena stopped; her eyes grew larger; she looked to her left and then to her right.
“Or—maybe I was wrong.” She remained still, and then the bellowing chant had startled her yet again.
“I have asked repeatedly, help with my finding, the place where these memories and I were residing!”
Darkness rapidly supplanted the sun’s warm rays right before a storm produced instantaneously. Ear-piercing thunder resonated within the school building, consolidated with twisting winds that had abruptly slammed all the doors shut. Rena’s trembling hands capped her ears, and her eyes squinted as she flinched with pain. It was in that moment when she had decided—it was time to leave; however, a similar overwhelming urge enticed her just as it had on the school’s front steps: whether Ms. Biddock would apologize.
With eyes half-closed, Rena moved through the vigorous winds, and victoriously achieved the course that would conduct to her desired direction by way of the light glaring through the frosted glass atop the office entryway. She extended her arms outward and expressed perseverance, striving for Ms. Biddock’s door, and seized hold of the doorknob.
She triumphed in achieving her arduous grasp.
With tremoring hands and all her weight—all ninety pounds, Rena pushed upon the door, until there was an opportunity; little by little it opened; she persisted her fight against the storm, but she wasn’t strong enough; the winds on the other side were as vigorous, prompting her strength to weaken. The slight access she had obtained—closed; nonetheless, she refused to give up, and shoved again upon that office door, hard, and then even harder. It was surely opening, slightly, and more, and then more; she hurriedly stuck her foot inside, wiggling within the snug opening; then instantly, she was intrigued by the ceiling turned open sky of stupendous swirling clouds, the roaring of deep rumbles of thunder, and bursts of flashes of lightning!
She dominated the rattling door with one hand while the other kept back her ‘tangled hair in the wind’ away from her face. Then, staring at her was a woman with piercing, glowing green eyes, which Rena had imagined, derived from the flashes of lightning.
“Ms. … Biddock?” she questioned aloud over twisting winds.
Coolly, Ms. Biddock turned away. She held out her arms under the blustery sky, aiming her gold, etched wand, as lightning strikes soared out of its wooden tip.
Rena distinguished one of the letters carved into the wand—the letter M; afterward, she was drawn to an outlandish desk, covered by an old, green leather-bound book, with bright lights beaming out of its oversized pages.
Ms. Biddock lowered her arms; her black layered gown waved simultaneously with her loose hair blowing wildly.
“Didn’t I tell you to leave!” she yelled.
About the Author
Born and raised in New Jersey, she currently resides in Florida.
In her spare time, she writes poems, novels, and savors in the opportunity to read an enthralling story.
Her novel, A New World Fantasy Novel Trilogy, was written to capture the minds of fantasy novel readers with unique characters fitted in a montage of events as they set on an enigmatic adventure.
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