What a Witch!

When Rochelle was a child, she had seen ghosts as a child. She had tried to tell her mother that her grandmother was at Rochelle's side, waving her hand. Unfortunately for Rochelle, her mother was not responding, and told her to stop talking rubbish. "And we'll say no more about that!"

Well, some women have mothers, some do not. Rochelle put her visions to one side in her teenage years, and kept going, most days going strong, and feeling blessed by the best. In one year at high school, Rochelle used to skip classes and sit in the surrounding forest, smoking cigarettes, and wondering.

One day, it was raining at lunchtime, so the high school nerds, all expected to do so well, went to sit in the library. There Mrs. Haggle, the grey old librarian, brought Rochelle a faded book to read. It was titled, 'Witches need Spelling." Rochelle just knew she had to hid this book under all the mighty array of literature for her studies.

At night, by torchlight, she hid under the blankets, and eagerly studied ways to develop her advancing witchly talents. Despite Rochelle's dreams of all the great things she was going to achieve, after she left this teenage academy, she was soon sidetracked by that one fun guy, Cupid. Next time she wagged her Higher Maths class, she sauntered away with a couple of classmates.

One of these lads was Jarryd, who had never taken any notice of her before. But this was a start, an initial welcoming to the absences of their school days. Rochelle let Jarryd rabbit on about his plans for his future, at the end of his school days, for the next steps in life. They both planned to apply to the same college, and aim high. Rochelle knew she was not supposed to interrupt or talk over him, or annoy a male of any age with her intentions.

Jarryd seemed to be very self-centred, if not even a tad boring. She suddenly wanted to know what it was like to be kissed, to have a date on Saturday night, to have a male hold her hand. Rochelle was more than keen to enter the teen social scene, while learning secretly about her paraphenomenal powers. The students returned to their classes, reeking of cigarettes, but not a word was said.

"Right, Jarryd is the one!" Rochelle decided, not quite sure if she would indeed let him go all the way. Her mother would have a pink fit, even if Rochelle wanted to take the pill. Jarryd did have lovely strong looking hands. Heartsong might ensue, but that was yet to happen. Rochelle's imagination cast herself as Smurfette, writing love hearts and blowing kisses to Jarryd, her newly appointed Smurf boy. Was true romance going to blow her away to turn from Mrs. Haggle and her next epic lit?

By now, Rochelle had read thoroughly all her 'Witches need Spelling' book, and made sure she would invent her own spells. Why not? After all, while her grandmother had been alive and kicking, she had read all those tea leaves and cast futures very well. Some things ran in families, whether they all that happy or not.

So, in the depths of under blanket, Rochelle cuddled her toy figurine of Smurf boy, drew a heart in the air, sent Jarryd an ethereal friendship hug, and blew him some kisses, hoping to land him one on his enticing lips. "Yes, a positive focus," she whispered to herself. She switched off her torch, and dreamed of true first loving with a smile.

The next nights meant under blanket time was devoted to casting her spells, until she could decide if they were working. Jarryd and Rochelle regularly spent some quiet time in the bushland, where she listened patiently with understanding. She did wonder if Jarryd was only self-motivated. But she upped the ante one day, brushing her hand against his. She was hoping he would not put his hands in the pocket of his hoodie jacket.

The notable Jarryd suddenly mumbled, "Wanna see a movie on Saturday night?" Rochelle tried not to flush or stammer, so she played it cool. "Why not?" Then, "Who's driving?"

"I'll have to ask my Mum. She wants to stick her nose in everything."

Rochelle had to accept that, it was still her very first date. Her own mother was glad she was going to enter teen academy dating, so Rochelle would do something else besides stare at endless old books. Rochelle did not take any notice, this project of kissing Jarryd was going to be an exercise in witchly, feminine and talented human behaviour. She was a big fan of librarians, all of a sudden.

The night of that epic first date arrived. Jarryd turned up right on time, looking quite subdued. His mother insensitively checked any girl he took to the movies, and was scheduled to collect the potential couple no more than quarter of an hour after the movie sesssion. Jarryd did not hold Rochelle's hand when they went to the cinema, but she did nurture some hopes of her first kiss, just to see if kissing was worth all that hype.

The movie Jarryd had chosen was full of car smashes, loud crashes, a couple of attractive girls, lots of bridges trashed, and very noisy revving of engines. Rochelle tried to say something amusing or intelligent, but she realised this movie was a boy's own adventure. After the intermission, Jarryd slid his arm around her, Rochelle discreetly checked her pulse rate. Yes, he was leaning in to whisper sweet nothings in her ear.

"What's Mrs. Haggle's story? Did she give you a book too?"

Stunned, Rochelle could only nod her head. In the half light of the movie screen, Jarryd pulled from his hoodie a very slim book, titled, 'Handbook for Wizards'. Rochelle felt a little thrill, maybe Jarryd was not so boring after all....

His mother drove them both home, right on curfew, and on schooldays Jarryd kept on sitting on the log, right next to Rochelle. His lips did kiss her one lunchtime, very kissable lips melded. They wandered back to classes, waiting for all their potential. Rochelle's spelling had worked.

She kept her peace, and started writing her very own, hopefully successful, book of tips for juniors with extra sensory powers. Of course, she wrote it under the blanket in the depths of her torchlight. Her mighty lit was titled, "Peace, Love, and Witchy Dust."

Old Mrs. Haggle had been observing all this fun from her personal crystal ball, saying to herself, "That's not what I meant. Love spells indeed. But what a witch you shall be, Rochelle the teen. "