Five more days . . .

I stared up at the ceiling with the reverence of holy men to icons and dogs listening for the word “walk” from their owners mouths. It was a stiff, muggy kind of night where I still had to keep the fan on as the summer heat lingered into fall.

Five more days . . .

The clock on my bedside table shone with a neon “2:42” reflected back at me. My eyes ached from lack of sleep, but my thoughts drizzled down in painful hazy waves of panic.

Five more goddamn days and I still haven't told them.

I had plenty of opportunities to inform my family of my new predicament. I could have told them when we were all out having dinner with the Nelson’s and had to be stuffed into a single car for once. I could have said something when I was out dress shopping with my sister and mom and they asked me if I was in any new “relationships.” (Yes, mother, sister dearest, she’s over a hundred years old and has shark teeth. Score.) Or when we were all in the family group chat trying to coordinate reception dinner times for a few months from now. (Sorry everyone! I can’t actually make it. I'll be trapped in a dirty murdered-witch mansion).

I could have simply slipped in: Oh, hey, yeah. I’ve actually indentured myself to a powerful witch in exchange for your protection. No biggie.

It hadn’t come up on its own yet.

Leah was still buying junk from online like lucky talismans made of eagle feathers and rowan leaves and burning sage in every corner of her house. She was convinced that she could fend off the witch with a $24.99 enchanted knick-knack from Etsy. At least she would be happy to know it was taken care of.

I simply had to tell her that I wouldn’t be there the days before her wedding because I would be cleaning cobwebs for a magical crone. I groaned and flipped over in bed. The bedside clock read 2:45.

I got up.

I had no immediate plans, but ended up prowling around my room from one end to the other in a moment of restless hunger. I went over to my work desk and examined the Wedding Invitations for the Ramirez’s that I was making.

My mom owned a business named “Veils and Roses Wedding Company.” I ended up working for her due to a myriad of teenage-angst fueled events that at least meant I was allowed back into the family if I joined. I wondered how my mom’s face would look when I told her I was indentured to a witch. That I had done another dumb thing.

I wondered if it would rival the time I came home high off LSD and tripping so hard that I was crying and yelling about our yard being on fire. It probably wouldn’t be as bad as the other time I came home so drunk that puked in her flower vase.

There were many ways to disappoint your mother-- I had discovered them one by one with a deft and meticulous hand. To say the least, I had not been an easy child, but I was trying to be a better adult. First, I just had to start with reckoning with the forces of unnatural workings and the devil’s henchman.

Then I would work on paying her back for the ruined Turkish carpet.

I sighed and examined my handiwork on the wedding cards. Could I write a note to my family explaining what had happened? I couldn’t imagine the kinds of emojis I would need to cover this.

Ping, ping

I jumped at a sudden metallic sound. “Hello?” I said and whirled around. My baseball bat was all the way on the other side of the room.

Ping, ping, ping

The metallic sound came again and I ended up walking toward my bed in fast jerky steps. “Hello . . . ?” I tried again more softly.

“Over here.” A voice croaked and I almost toppled over backwards when it came from inside my mirror. “You, the woman who broke into my house.”

I stood up tall and tried not to let my mouth hang open. There was a figure in my mirror. “How . . . ?”

She seemed more substantial this time. She stood up straighter and the lines around her seemed less smudged. The witch stood with a veil over her face and hands covered in black gloves.

“Witch.” She said simply and gestured at herself. “Had you forgotten?”

I made a face. “I was trying to.” I looked back and forth across the dark space from my window fan to my open suitcases. “It’s 2 in the morning.” I hissed back at her.

“It is?” She seemed generally surprised. “Well no matter.”

“You can’t just . . . mirror me at 2 in the morning.”

The woman waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “You’re awake, aren’t you?” I didn’t have a reply for that. “I expect you to arrive at my house at sundown on the fall equinox. Bring three sets of clothes and warm pajamas.”

“Just three?” My eyes went wide.

“Yes. Make them loose too, I won’t have you prancing around here in mortal skinny jeans.” She sniffed loudly as if skinny jeans were the most offensive thing since the invention of curse words.

“Why do you care?” I growled with my hands starting to ball up.

The witch made a deep humming noise in the back of her throat. “You’re mine now.” She practically cackled. “Remember that. Wear dark loose clothing, and arrive on time. That is all.”

“Wait,” I shot my hand out as if to stop the mirror from walking away. “Can I leave the grounds? Or, I dunno, have visitors?” I had started to worry about being alone in that enormous house for months on end.

“What? Visitors? Like who?” She said hotly.

“You know, my sister, my family, friends.” I hunched my shoulders over as I said it. “A whole winter is a long time.”

“Your little sister is not allowed within ten feet of me.” The witch spat. “Or I’ll curse her into boldness. And I am certainly not running a boarding house. You may leave the premise during the day, but return before sundown or be locked out.” She said with a thickness in her voice. “And no visitors.”

I exhaled. “Fine.” I tried to catch the witch’s eye. The witch started to turn away and her image began to taper off. I took a bold step forward, “So what did she do then?” I ventured more loudly, “What did my sister do to you to deserve a boldness spell?”

The witch humphed darkly. “I suppose you wouldn’t know.” She replied almost mockingly, “Five days. Sunset on the equinox.” I swore I could hear a cruel smile in her voice, “Pack light.”

“Wait!” I went grab at the mirror but the image disappeared in a series of ripples that ate the witch’s form whole. “How,” I sucked in a deep breath, “How am I going to tell my family about this?”

I asked the air in the stillness of the empty night, but got no answers.