Just as we stepped inside the house, I heard Karl whisper from beside me, “Home sweet home.” It was easy to take note of the adoration in his voice.
He was my cousin but, to me, he was the best brother I could ever ask for. When my aunt, after years of solitude, and a seemingly never-ending mourning over the loss of her beloved husband, passed away in a car accident, my dad had done everything he could, the fastest he could, in order to become his legal guardian. The day he arrived, the sky had been of a stormy gray and raining cats and dogs.
Since he had been drenched from head to toe because of his little, slow, insouciant-like walk from the car to the house, it was difficult to say whether there were tears or not among the droplets of water trickling down his face. His green eyes were sad though; everybody could see that, even little me I was five at the time, he was ten.
As his blond locks sticking to his grim face and his lifeless pools of green had come into sight, I had run towards him, held on his shirttail and tugged until he bent over my little form.
In that bubbly, innocent and oh-so-endearing manner children only could talk, I had asked him to smile, my forefingers tugging at the corners of his mouth. He had knelt on the floor and then forced a smile on his face. Had I been older, I would have seen that smile for what it had been a rueful one. I was, however, only five at the time and just as I thought that maybe I had been able to bring some much needed joy into his saddened self, his eyes allowed the tears he had been desperate to hold to make their way down his cheeks.
I wasn’t even given the time to wonder why he was crying though, admittedly, the reason was pretty obvious that he was already engulfing me in a bear hug like I had never had before. I had awkwardly hugged him back for what seemed like hours but were probably only minutes, under the curious stares of my family.
That had to be the start of our unshakable bond.
At those memories, I felt all warm inside, my whole being overflowing with fraternal love for that man who was striding in the house, eager as he was to feel at home.
It was finally Sunday. It was finally Karl’s letting out day. It was finally my sixteenth birthday.
I had been more than excited to wake up this morning, desperate to feel any change in me on the outside or within me, whichever it be that would tell me I had finally grown into a real witch… I neither saw nor felt any. I was sure the change must have happened some time during the night; or to be more precise, at exactly midnight; yet there was no evidence of it. I was kind of frustrated with that, but decided not to dwell on it too much, and let it go for the time being admittedly, it was Karl who convinced me. He had told me that it wasn’t something tangible per se at least, not for a little time and that I would have to make use of my powers to see the change.
The only problem there was that we weren’t allowed to go all witchy in the house. The last time my brothers and I did, we had almost burnt down the house among other things. Needless to say, our parents had been furious.
**************
We enjoyed a familial lunch, chatted and had a good laugh together. All in all, it was a sweet, enjoyable, long-awaited reunion. Even though Karl had left when he graduated and went to college, he was staying at our house for the time being since we wouldn’t let him go back to New York just yet I wouldn’t actually… And since I was the birthday girl, and it was not an everyday occurrence that his favorite little cousin turned sixteen, he couldn’t help but sigh in surrender and agree to come back home with us.
Deep inside, I could tell he wanted nothing more than to come home. Although He had been in a coma for nearly one month, he had missed no more than one week and for good reasons too I was sure he would be having no problem at college. It was only one week but he was so conscientious in his studies, it must have felt like too much to him.
I can barely believe it. I’m sixteen! I was mentally squealing in delight while letting a wide grin show on my face.
“So, Jas,” Karl brought me out of my reverie, “I hope there will be no April’s-Fools’-Day-like activities this year,” he teased, his eyes twinkling at me with unmistakable mischief.
He was referring to what Seth and I had done on my birthday two years ago. We had gone to school, begrudgingly, dragging our feet since our parents wouldn’t allow us to skip classes and attend the festival I was oh-so-desperate to go to. Then, a genius idea had stricken me, making my whole being shiver in excitement.
“We were told to go to school, right?” I could remember myself only too well asking Seth just as we stepped inside the prestigious, private high school I was inwardly cursing for the first time ever since I first started at it.
“No shit, Sherlock!” He had given me a what-the-hell-is-your-point look, urging me to tell him whatever I was thinking already.
“But if there was no school, we could go to the festival; right?” I had wiggled my eyebrows at him suggestively.
He had given me a quizzical look and I had hurried to explain my plan to him, in hushed tones so as not to be heard, an evil grin adorning my lips.
We had gone straight to the gym, hoping it would be deserted and, luckily enough, it had been. Then, we did our best igniting an impossibly small flame just under those little devices which sole purpose was to sense fire and start pouring water. Just as we managed doing that, we had rung the alert then fled out of there.
We had not been the only ones benefitting from that little prank. Some had been groaning about a quiz, others complaining about the teacher they would be having first thing in the morning; and others, just like us, had been just looking for mere shimmer of an opportunity to skip.
Fun times, I thought, smiling, feeling a tad bit nostalgic.
“Nothing of the sorts,” I reassured him.
The prank I’ll be doing today will be so much more fun, I’m sure. I had kept that little detail to myself though, not wanting to alert the parents to the upcoming little mess I would be causing.