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Hazel walks to the couch, sitting down and setting the black box in front of Blaire's feet. "Girl, since you've been here, Malik has been nothing but hell for you. He's treated you like shit, belittled you, mentally fucked with you. Before he actually really fucking hurts you, it’s time we put a stop to it."
I sit down on the opposite couch, the cushion curling around me like an oversized pillow. My interest is officially piqued. Excitement and relief start tingling in my fingers and toes.
There’s a way to stop this nonsense? Yes, please.
"What do you have in mind?"
"Hazel is a witch," Piper says from behind me. She pulls a bag of chips and a Mountain Dew from behind the bar. "I don't like that Ouija board shit, Hazel. I’m not doing it again.” Piper’s entire body rolls with a tremor. Glancing at me, she says, “We did it last year and I had some creepy stuff happen to me for a while."
Hazel rolls her eyes. "It was all in your head. Nothing happened to either of us. And hey, I've been doing some digging, and there is a ton of shit we can do. Like repellant spells, or banishing spells…"
"Spells?" My eyes widen.
"She's serious," Blaire says.
"So, what do you say?" Hazel looks at me with an excitement in her eyes. I stare at her, blinking, unsure of what to say.
I mean, spells? Is this shit even real? The thought of banishing or repelling Malik from my life is extremely appealing. Maybe there's an ignoring spell, because that would be good enough for me. Anything to have him leave me the hell alone, then I can figure out how to get out of here on my own, without him breathing and threatening me over my shoulder the entire time.
But…witches? Hazel is a witch? I glance over at her, seeing her in a different light. But it doesn’t surprise me completely. She seems different. And after seeing the upstairs of her house, it makes a lot of sense.
I’ve always loved the idea of the power of magic and something otherworldly. But have I ever thought I would be involved in something like this? I don’t know. What is it, exactly? Black magic? Because that’s an entirely different avenue.
"I say we do it." Piper sits down next to me, crunching on a chip. "I mean, as long as some creepy-ass spirit doesn't start harassing me like he did last time, I'm cool with it."
"There was no spirit last time," Hazel says, standing up. "I've got some shit that I put together. Hold on."
She stands up, stepping over Piper's feet and heading to a small door in the corner of the room.
"How do we even know this is going to work? What happens when you usually do spells? Do the lights flicker? Have you ever talked to ghosts before? What am I supposed to expect here?" My palms grow sweaty, and I rub them against my bare thighs.
Hazel’s voice echoes as she laughs from inside the closet. “No, there are no flickering lights. At least none that I’ve ever experienced.” She grunts, stepping out and shutting the door. “But, Piper is right. We did talk to some weirdo spirit when we did the Ouija board, and I’d rather that not happen again.” Walking toward me, she has a large cardboard box in her hand. “It’ll work, though. It’ll work.”
She walks over to us, dropping the box onto the couch. She grabs the corner of the table, pulling it toward the screen and giving us a big open area. Grabbing the blanket from the back of the couch, she lays it out. It's thin, almost like a sheet as it covers the carpet. There's a pentagram in the center, and suddenly this just got a lot more real to me.
I glance up at Hazel, suddenly unsure. I’ve seen scary movies. I know what happens when you don’t know what you’re doing. Pretending like this is just a game, like these objects are toys, or this is all in good fun? It never ends well. There’s just so much that can go wrong.
Hazel goes to the box, pulling out black candles and placing them around the outer edge of the blanket. Walking back to the box, she grabs a bowl, placing it in the middle. She goes back and forth a few more times, silently grabbing things and placing them strategically around the blanket, like she knows exactly where they’re supposed to go.
Okay, well, maybe I don’t know what I’m doing, but hopefully she does.
When she stands back and walks to the box, I notice she’s laid things out into a five-pointed star.
I swallow down my dry throat.Yup, this is definitely black magic.
She grabs some dried leaves, setting them next to the bowl in the center. Grabbing a few small vials, one with dark liquid and two with light liquid, she sits down, dropping them beside her thighs.
"Come on, sit down." She pats the spots in between the black candles. We all glance at each other, then stand up, sitting back down and creating a small circle.
"What are we supposed to do? Where the hell did you get all this stuff?" I ask, waving my hand around at all the creepy stuff in front of us.
Hazel reaches back, grabbing onto the corner of the box and pulling it off the couch. "I told you, I've been doing my homework." She reaches into the bottom of the box, pulling out a few more things. “There’s also a small shop I found down in Duluth. It’s, like, in the back of an abandoned street and looks broken down, but you’d never guess the type of shit I found in there.”
My eyes widen when I watch her place a small square next to the bowl.
Picking up the tiny picture, I almost crack out a laugh, "Where did you get this?" My fingers brush over Malik's non-smiling face. He looks angry, but I guess he always does. It's black and white, like he's from a different time period. His hair is a bit shorter, and his eyes look a bit younger. It feels like he's looking at me. Directly into my soul. I can feel the hate in his stare.
Hazel rips it from my fingers. "I cut it out of the yearbook from last year. I figured you wouldn't have anything of his. A piece of hair, a pair of underwear?"
