Today is such a beautiful day in Salem, I can already tell by the early dawn sun shining through my window. What does today have in store for me? Work! I work at The Jonathan Corwin House which is known locally as The Witch House. It's famous as the original owner of the same namesake was one of the judges who presided over the notorious trials and it's now a museum and I'm lucky enough to run it. What's even better is, I live opposite so it's simply a short walk to work every day.
I live in a two-bedroom townhouse that was left to me by my Grandma after she passed away 4 years ago. It still has all its original Victorian detail and I plan on keeping it that way. As you can tell, I'm a sucker for History!
I can see the post has already arrived - the usual bills and leaflets that will be going straight into the trash. As I rifle through the envelopes, one catches my eye as it's marked as URGENT. The handwriting isn't familiar to me either as I scan it before opening it. I can't remember the last time I received a handwritten letter - if ever!
Before I open it I decide to make a coffee and then sit down at my kitchen table to explore the letter. It's a simple cream envelope with very neat handwriting stating my name and address and is postmarked as Salem, MA which is even stranger. Surely it would've been easier just to hand-deliver it if they live locally? Gently I open the envelope to reveal a letter on an A5 sheet of paper written in a bold marker.
All isn't as it seems with how your friend died. Maybe you should look into the circumstances further. How can a strong swimmer drown in a place they're so familiar with? Have you found her Book Of Light yet?
A concerned citizen
My heart begins to race - who would send this to me now? Charlotte has been gone for 6 months. Surely this information would've been useful back when her death was being investigated? It would be a lie to say I didn't have a suspicion when it first happened that something wasn't right. Especially as Charlotte was such a strong swimmer and was even on the swim team back in high school. But when they ruled it accidental and couldn't find any evidence of foul play I took the Police and authorities at their word. Surely this couldn't be a prank? And a heartless one at that!
One thing I knew for certain - I would do everything in my power to unveil the identity of the sender and in the process, I would start looking into Charlotte's death; just in case there was some truth to the letter.
So far today, all I've managed to do is stare at my computer screen with all our inventory. I've even read the note about a thousand times trying to reveal the sender. Why am I so frustrated? I can't concentrate on anything to do with work. It's a good job I have my assistant Maisie here to serve the customers and keep things ticking over. Surely the mystery sender should know what sending this would do to me? Why send it to me and not Charlotte's parents or even the Police? "Genie, are you ok?". Maise looks at me concerned with her big brown eyes. She's as blonde as I am dark. People would describe us as polar opposites but we work well together and have even formed a friendship outside of work. "I'm ok Maisie. Sorry, I'm preoccupied today. I received some unusual news this morning and I'm trying to decide what to do about it". "Anything I can help with? A problem shared is a problem halved? Or so the saying goes?". She really is a sweetheart. But I can't tell her about the note
I arrive at the kennels to find my mom deep in conversation with one of the dogs Rocky. I've warned her so many times that she needs to be careful talking to them when she's at work. All it takes is for one of the customers to walk in and they'd think she was nuts! "Rocky - now you know you need to take a bath. You'll be going home later and you need to be all shiny like a new penny, no arguments". Rocky barks then turns around in a circle and lies down in a huff. I don't need to be able to understand him to know he's defeated. "What brings you here sweetie?". Mum looks at me suspiciously. She knows when I show up unannounced that something is playing on my mind. She can read me like a book. I reluctantly pull the note from my pocket and hand it over to her. As she reads it, I see the worry take over her face and she takes an age to reply. It almost feels like she's calculating in her head what to say to me, which isn't like her at all. My mom is and always has been very direct and
Instead of going home, I've ended up in O'Neills which is the only Irish bar in town. Sitting at home when I feel like this isn't a good idea. I'm sure a drink won't hurt me. Mac the owner puts a Guinness down on the bar as I take a seat. I frequent here enough that he knows what my drink of choice is. Just as I'm about to take a sip my eyes are drawn to a tall, dark-haired man standing at the pool table alone. My breath catches as I just stare at him like a mental patient. Who is this guy? As I cast my eyes over him like a ravenous animal I can immediately tell he's substantially taller than me; at least 6ft 5. He has lustrously thick black hair that looks untidy but beautiful. His eyes are expressive and large that look as deep as rich, dark chocolate. To top it off his lips are a plump and sultry shade of deep pink. Oh my god! I don't think I've ever seen a man as beautiful as him. I can't call him handsome as that word just doesn't do him justice. Before I can look away he sudden
I slowly walk home thinking about Charlotte and the things my mum had told me. It was hard to focus in the bar with the anonymous Micah commanding my attention - completely my fault by the way. Anyone would think I was a love-sick teenager and not a grown woman. If Charlotte were here she would have teased me relentlessly. As I walk, I suddenly hear brakes screeching and then a loud scream. Looking up I can see a dark blue Chevrolet has failed to stop and has hit what looks like a teenage boy. I immediately call 911 before running over to assess the damage. The car has mounted the curb and has pinned this poor boy by his leg underneath it. His screams are ferocious and I panic not knowing what to do. "It's ok - I've called an ambulance and they're on their way. What's your name?". I ask as calmly as I can. "Tommy". The boy replies crying "Please help me, I'm stuck". Looking at him he can't be more than 16. I look into the driver's side to find the driver is an older gentleman uncons
The first thing I do this morning is to buy the local newspaper on the way to work to see if anyone has reported the accident last night. I scan the newspaper and find the article, which luckily hasn't made it to the front page - thank goodness for small miracles. Last night a local man under the influence of alcohol plowed into 16-year-old Tommy Fletcher who is a local of Salem. He is currently being treated in hospital for a leg injury sustained during the accident. A witness has confirmed that Tommy was pinned underneath the vehicle and that an unknown female came to his rescue and stayed with him until help arrived. At this moment in time, the local police have not released the name of the driver, and have also been unable to confirm the identity of the unknown hero, but are keen to speak with her. A witness? Shit! I was so positive there was nobody else around last night. Oh my god! My mum is going to go ape shit if she puts two and two together! As I re-read the article I calm
My name is Genevieve Martin or Genie for short, and I'm what you would refer to as a Witch. Others have been known to call us by other names such as sorceresses, enchantresses, hags, and she-devils - the list goes on and on. Honestly, if I was to list all of them it would never end. But the term "Witch" actually comes from the word "Wicca" meaning Wise One. Another misconception is that we all fly around on brooms; not true! We do use them, but only to sweep the area before we perform a healing ceremony and to clean our houses like any normal person who likes to practice cleanliness. We do not own black cats and we do not turn into bats! The things that non-magic folk believe are unbelievable, thanks to the internet and Chinese whispers, we are constantly being misconstrued. But then again, technically we are a myth and aren't supposed to exist, and to non-magic folk, it's safe that it stays that way. After all, what we don't know, can't hurt us. Now more about me, I am a Witch thro
The next cliche you're going to hear is that I actually do live in Salem, MA, and have done since birth. I did leave to go to college but that didn't work out. It just wasn't for me. I completed a full year studying Philosophy and English Literature, but all I wanted was to come home. You see, I'm a homebody. I love my city and always will! It's the only city where you will see Police cars adorned with witch logos, we even have an elementary school known as Witchcraft Heights, oh and the best one - the Salem High School's athletics team is called the Witches! So now you can see why the only place I ever want to be is here. As I said, the fact that I'm a real witch is just a bonus. My powers come from my mother who was also born a Witch. She met and married my father but he wasn't a Warlock or from any kind of magical background. He's what I earlier referred to as non-magic folk. You can imagine his face when my mum decided to let the proverbial cat out of the bag by confessing she wa
As I mentioned before, Witches' powers begin to develop when we're 18. As soon as midnight hits on our 18th birthday we literally come into them and we have no idea what they'll be. We could develop one or more, and we'll almost certainly develop more the older we get. On my 18th birthday, I developed two - enhanced strength and enhanced night vision. What does this mean in lamens terms? I have the ability to lift immense weights, including humans and I can see in the dark. How did I find out about my enhanced strength? When I accidentally ripped the refrigerator door off after an argument with my mom. Boy was she pissed! The night vision was pretty easy to discover - I woke up for a pee in the middle of the night and realized no light was necessary, followed by scaring the crap out of myself with my own reflection in the mirror. That was 7 years ago but it doesn't end there, oh no! Six months ago during a very trying time after losing my best friend Charlotte unexpectedly, I discove
The first thing I do this morning is to buy the local newspaper on the way to work to see if anyone has reported the accident last night. I scan the newspaper and find the article, which luckily hasn't made it to the front page - thank goodness for small miracles. Last night a local man under the influence of alcohol plowed into 16-year-old Tommy Fletcher who is a local of Salem. He is currently being treated in hospital for a leg injury sustained during the accident. A witness has confirmed that Tommy was pinned underneath the vehicle and that an unknown female came to his rescue and stayed with him until help arrived. At this moment in time, the local police have not released the name of the driver, and have also been unable to confirm the identity of the unknown hero, but are keen to speak with her. A witness? Shit! I was so positive there was nobody else around last night. Oh my god! My mum is going to go ape shit if she puts two and two together! As I re-read the article I calm
I slowly walk home thinking about Charlotte and the things my mum had told me. It was hard to focus in the bar with the anonymous Micah commanding my attention - completely my fault by the way. Anyone would think I was a love-sick teenager and not a grown woman. If Charlotte were here she would have teased me relentlessly. As I walk, I suddenly hear brakes screeching and then a loud scream. Looking up I can see a dark blue Chevrolet has failed to stop and has hit what looks like a teenage boy. I immediately call 911 before running over to assess the damage. The car has mounted the curb and has pinned this poor boy by his leg underneath it. His screams are ferocious and I panic not knowing what to do. "It's ok - I've called an ambulance and they're on their way. What's your name?". I ask as calmly as I can. "Tommy". The boy replies crying "Please help me, I'm stuck". Looking at him he can't be more than 16. I look into the driver's side to find the driver is an older gentleman uncons
Instead of going home, I've ended up in O'Neills which is the only Irish bar in town. Sitting at home when I feel like this isn't a good idea. I'm sure a drink won't hurt me. Mac the owner puts a Guinness down on the bar as I take a seat. I frequent here enough that he knows what my drink of choice is. Just as I'm about to take a sip my eyes are drawn to a tall, dark-haired man standing at the pool table alone. My breath catches as I just stare at him like a mental patient. Who is this guy? As I cast my eyes over him like a ravenous animal I can immediately tell he's substantially taller than me; at least 6ft 5. He has lustrously thick black hair that looks untidy but beautiful. His eyes are expressive and large that look as deep as rich, dark chocolate. To top it off his lips are a plump and sultry shade of deep pink. Oh my god! I don't think I've ever seen a man as beautiful as him. I can't call him handsome as that word just doesn't do him justice. Before I can look away he sudden
I arrive at the kennels to find my mom deep in conversation with one of the dogs Rocky. I've warned her so many times that she needs to be careful talking to them when she's at work. All it takes is for one of the customers to walk in and they'd think she was nuts! "Rocky - now you know you need to take a bath. You'll be going home later and you need to be all shiny like a new penny, no arguments". Rocky barks then turns around in a circle and lies down in a huff. I don't need to be able to understand him to know he's defeated. "What brings you here sweetie?". Mum looks at me suspiciously. She knows when I show up unannounced that something is playing on my mind. She can read me like a book. I reluctantly pull the note from my pocket and hand it over to her. As she reads it, I see the worry take over her face and she takes an age to reply. It almost feels like she's calculating in her head what to say to me, which isn't like her at all. My mom is and always has been very direct and
So far today, all I've managed to do is stare at my computer screen with all our inventory. I've even read the note about a thousand times trying to reveal the sender. Why am I so frustrated? I can't concentrate on anything to do with work. It's a good job I have my assistant Maisie here to serve the customers and keep things ticking over. Surely the mystery sender should know what sending this would do to me? Why send it to me and not Charlotte's parents or even the Police? "Genie, are you ok?". Maise looks at me concerned with her big brown eyes. She's as blonde as I am dark. People would describe us as polar opposites but we work well together and have even formed a friendship outside of work. "I'm ok Maisie. Sorry, I'm preoccupied today. I received some unusual news this morning and I'm trying to decide what to do about it". "Anything I can help with? A problem shared is a problem halved? Or so the saying goes?". She really is a sweetheart. But I can't tell her about the note
Today is such a beautiful day in Salem, I can already tell by the early dawn sun shining through my window. What does today have in store for me? Work! I work at The Jonathan Corwin House which is known locally as The Witch House. It's famous as the original owner of the same namesake was one of the judges who presided over the notorious trials and it's now a museum and I'm lucky enough to run it. What's even better is, I live opposite so it's simply a short walk to work every day. I live in a two-bedroom townhouse that was left to me by my Grandma after she passed away 4 years ago. It still has all its original Victorian detail and I plan on keeping it that way. As you can tell, I'm a sucker for History! I can see the post has already arrived - the usual bills and leaflets that will be going straight into the trash. As I rifle through the envelopes, one catches my eye as it's marked as URGENT. The handwriting isn't familiar to me either as I scan it before opening it. I can't rememb
Now thanks to Hollywood and a certain TV show about three sisters with magic, many of our ways have been exposed but luckily with a different take on things. Let's just say a lot of it has been embellished or renamed but at the heart of it, a lot of it is close enough. Of course, we have dark magic, but as a Light Witch to practice any type of dark magic is against every fiber of our being. One thing we are NEVER to do is practice something called Necromancy, which is attempting to raise the dead. This is completely unnatural and if someone is powerful enough to succeed in doing this, there is always a hefty price to pay. Every Witch or Warlock will be handed the Book Of Light when they come into their powers. It's simply a book of light spells and in popular culture has been known to be called The Book Of Shadows, Grimoire, or The Book Of Spells - none of which are actually correct. The book is sacred to us and we protect it like that of the Bible. It can also be used to add your o
As I mentioned before, Witches' powers begin to develop when we're 18. As soon as midnight hits on our 18th birthday we literally come into them and we have no idea what they'll be. We could develop one or more, and we'll almost certainly develop more the older we get. On my 18th birthday, I developed two - enhanced strength and enhanced night vision. What does this mean in lamens terms? I have the ability to lift immense weights, including humans and I can see in the dark. How did I find out about my enhanced strength? When I accidentally ripped the refrigerator door off after an argument with my mom. Boy was she pissed! The night vision was pretty easy to discover - I woke up for a pee in the middle of the night and realized no light was necessary, followed by scaring the crap out of myself with my own reflection in the mirror. That was 7 years ago but it doesn't end there, oh no! Six months ago during a very trying time after losing my best friend Charlotte unexpectedly, I discove
The next cliche you're going to hear is that I actually do live in Salem, MA, and have done since birth. I did leave to go to college but that didn't work out. It just wasn't for me. I completed a full year studying Philosophy and English Literature, but all I wanted was to come home. You see, I'm a homebody. I love my city and always will! It's the only city where you will see Police cars adorned with witch logos, we even have an elementary school known as Witchcraft Heights, oh and the best one - the Salem High School's athletics team is called the Witches! So now you can see why the only place I ever want to be is here. As I said, the fact that I'm a real witch is just a bonus. My powers come from my mother who was also born a Witch. She met and married my father but he wasn't a Warlock or from any kind of magical background. He's what I earlier referred to as non-magic folk. You can imagine his face when my mum decided to let the proverbial cat out of the bag by confessing she wa