"Would you rather be the devil or God?" My best friend Faith asked catiously, leaning against the register counter at my job, Village Witch. She knew the subject of anything even relatively close to the subject of religion was touchy, being as I had officially changed my religion to Wiccan from Christianity, and she was a Christian. She had been so disapointed when I'd told her I had decided to travel the Wiccan path that she'd cried. But it's not like it was easy on me, either! Hello, I was the one who was into a whole 'nother religion behind my familys and friend's back, not to mention I was going to a Christian school! Oh, and I was completely seeing God through a new God/Goddess! That had to be hard, (and it was), not that she nor anyone else cared. All they cared about was their good little Reeve turning into something they didn't understand. And everyone knew that was the one thing Christians' hated and were afraid of; things they didn't understand. For example, the Salem Witch Trials; the Christians killed us Witches because they didn't understand the religion!
"Being as I don't believe in the devil, nor your God, I don't find it accurate to answer that question." I said, handing her two five dollar bills and a reciept. She snatched her diet Coke, obviously annoyed at my answer.
"Life or death situation," she pushed, her eyes eager. I ignored her, pretending to mess with some colorful pentagram bracelets.
"Not true," I said, averting my gaze. And, I wasn't terrible, right?
First of all, before I start telling you the dirty details about how my life when from perfect little suburb life to majorly fucked-up, I'm Reeve McCoy. Pleasure to meet you. So, I'll just tell you the basics—so that I don't bore you to death with me, and I can't say too say too much about myself so you can relate to me better or whatever. (I don't know…ask the author.) I'm officially a freshman in my oh so perfect little christian high school, which isn't as great as it sounds. For one, you can't even smile in the damn school (in any high school, for the matter) without everyone saying you're grinning because you think you're a big, bad freshman. People really need to get something straight; seventy five percent of the newbies/young ones don't think they're all that. Seriously people, why would we? We're at the bottom of the fudging school! And two, it sucks to know that you have four more years in the damn place. But I won't go into my psycho-babble about how I feel about High school right now; I'll save that for later. Like I was saying. I'm not an emo, though most of my friends are into the emo-fashion. Most of my friends, the Wiccan ones, tend to look a bit cliche', which I hate. I've just never really liked stereotypes. They are the shame and agony filled act of categorizing people as conformist, as the rest of the teenage society, into meaningless groups that degrade your self-integrity. Yay for the human race, adding more to destroy the social status of the world! Ugh. I won't even acknowledge it…Back to me—again. As you can tell, my mind gets off track a lot, one thought leading to another, and then that to another. But, hey, there's just some things we can't help. Let me just tell you about my life—or my Used-To-Be life, anyway. It was perfect:
The typical bitchy parents; an awesome older brother; a troll of a little brother, but you gotta love him; the cutest dog in the world; the most reliable grandma, although she's a little crazy; the perfect little crew of friends;lovin' life in the most amazing little christian school, Gywnion; being a Christian. And now I've lost everything just by losing one. Make sense? No? Let me explain:
It all started when I was ten, five years ago, before they put me in this Christian school. I was at the Fair with my family, walking and talking and laughing. It had been totally innocent…until I saw the psychic reading booth. It sparked my curiosity—and now, as in today, I know that it sparked something deeper than my curiosity, but I'll get to that later— so I started towards it. But then my grandma pulled me back, pretty much throwing a fit and telling me never to go near things like it. She'd said that it was blasmephy. And, of course, I did the exact opposite of what she said just because I didn't like being told what to do. You know how it is when your ten; Stubborn, wanting to be grown, thinking you know it all, and doing the opposite of what your parents tell you. Typical. Innocent. Or so I'd thought.
When everyone had gone on rides, and it was just me and grandma, I told her I was hungry. She'd given me some money and told me to be back in ten minutes. And I'd really almost passed on the whole psychic thing, because it had looked boring and old-ish. But, like I said earlier, it had sparked something in me. So I went into the red, velvet-looking tent, and sat in that really weirdly comfortable chair. I had been right about one thing—it had been boring. At least, it had been boring then. I was ten—I didn't want to sit there and listen to some lady tell me things about my life that I'd already known. My cats name; how I felt about my step-dad; my pissed-off attitude towards the baby that had been in my mom's stomach at the time, etc. The only thing that had caught my attention was when she'd said I was "A seeker on a spiritual path". At the time, it had sounded so cool I went into complete ten-year-old mode, asking if it meant I was a ninja or something crazy like that. Unfortunately for me—at the time, it hadn't meant I was a ninja. But that didn't stop me from acting like it did. When I left the tent, I ran straight to my grandma and told her I was a spiritual seeker, hoping she would laugh and join in on my game like always. But she did the exact opposite. She'd gone Jackie Chan on my ass! (Verbally speaking). And you know how grandmas' are when they tell your mom stuff; somehow making it sound a lot worse than it really was.
So the whole rest of the day had been boring and annoying and weird.
It had been boring because I didn't get go on any more rides because I was being yelled at by my grandma and my mom, which, let me tell you, is a tag-team you never want to experience.
It had been annoying because, one, they just wouldn't shut up! And two, because, honestly, I'd thought it was my grandma's fault. If she hadn't been so blind and had just gone with me to get my food, I wouldn't have even gone.
And it had been weird because back then, I hadn't gotten the big deal about going into the damn tent!
Me? I'd just wanted to go home.
When I'd gotten home, everything had seemed different. I can't really explain how it was different, just like I can't explain how I knew things from that point on. I just do and did. (Or maybe I had always known things, but her words had made me really start to notice). Anyway, it wasn't until just last week that I found out that the psychic reading was the key to, well, me. A seeker on a spiritual path… And just like that, Bam! It hit me. I knew it meant something, and I researched like crazy; from Buddaism to Jewish, to just plain Psychic things (like how we only use 10% of our brains, and that if we dug deeper, we could do things like manifesting!) until I came along this little thing called Wicca, which by the way, is something that the Christian bible entirely goes against. And isn't that just peachy that the one thing that completely goes against my religion, family, and school is what I felt drawn to? Witch Craft.
And so that, my friends, is how losing one thing made me lose everything. I've been a Christian most of my life, though it never felt meaningful or quite right like The Craft does. It's still hard to let go of the whole God and Jesus thing, especially since I'm going to a Christian school. And even though I didn't want to let go of Jesus, I still wanted to belong to the Craft and the Goddess; but that would mean betraying just about everyone. That would mean being in secret in fear that people would turn on me, hate me, and call me a Devil Worshipper. And that—being in secret—would mean I no longer have all of those things ("those things" being my perfect life). At least not in the same way, I wouldn't. I'd have to be secretive, sneaky, and what my friends and family would call 'evil'. And even if I thought that Wicca wasn't necessarily evil, that is just has bad press, that doesn't mean they would agree. They'd probably say Satan was speaking through me or whatever. Overall, my point is it felt like I was losing everything. I knew it would never be the same if I really did what my soul, my heart was telling me to do...
So of course, I decided to become a secretive, sneaky, evil kid. One day, after taking secret classes on Wicca at my job, I finally decided to grow some balls and join a coven. Luckily for me, I wasn't the only naughty Christian girl at my school. A very colorful group of people, who of which I came across during a very special Samhian ritual just about a month ago, are now my coven-buddies, at a very Christian school. Crazy, huh? Life was so amazingly crazy! So, that's how I went through life; being very cautious with the subject of religion. But, with everything else, I was my same o'l Sagittarius self. So I guess my life wasn't totally majorly jacked-up, but it was pretty shitty having to hide and have listen to all those Christians go on and on all day.
"Hey, Reeve, did my grandma ever tell you-oh, hi Faith." Justin, my "orgasmic co-worker", as Velvet, my more rad best friend, liked to call him. (Orgasmic being a replacement for awesome and super-fine).He was a little more on the skinny side, but had muscles to make up for it. He wor0e his hair in the common Emo style; longish, partly covering one eye, and black with blonde streaks. His eyes were the palest, softest shade of purple. He was wearing a NeverShoutNever shirt, black skinny jeans, and converse to top it off. But even though his whole look screamed Emo, his eyes said something different. They weren't full of hate or lust, like most Emo's I knew. Instead they were gentle and very, very sad.
"Hey yourself, stud. Whaddus you're G-ma want, now?" I said playfully.
"Justin, I was hoping I'd see you here!" Faith practically purred, giving him a very friendly smile. It really pissed me off how she would flirt with him when she knew I liked him. And that, when I asked her about it, she would tell me I was delusional-that she liked him only as a friend, and that I should totally go for him. Yet here she was, batting her lashes. What a joke. I mean, yes, I did have an almost-ex boyfriend, but I still liked Justin. Jeez, she could at least attempt at flirting somewhere away from me. Far away. Where there weren't numerous sharp objects in reaching distance... "I needed some help with a project," She continued, pulling a notebook out of her bag. I could see her blue eye-liner smudging behind her glasses. My eyeliner never smudged; I made sure of it. Speaking of...I swiped a finger under both eyes, happy to see no black smudges on my finger. Ha!
"What's that?" He said, leaning against the counter.
"It's, uh, it's about Reincarnation. And, well, I thought you'd know all about that since, well, it's kind of a part of your religion." Yes, Justin was in fact a part of my colorful coven-buddies.
"Oh, well, that's easy. Reincarnation is one of the primary building blocks of the Wiccan faith," He started, as Faith moved closer to him with false interest in her project. Okay, umm, no. First of all, why would a very Christian girl who goes to a Christian school need to know about the Wicca beliefs? Mm mmm mmm. Boys just do not think. Or maybe he was just being polite.
"Faith, you do realize that I am learning Wicca, so you could have asked me for help." I said accusingly, cutting Justin off mid sentence.
"Oh, come to think of it, I could have asked you! Oh, darn. Well, you might as well continue, Justin." She said, shooting me a dangerous look. Justin chuckled, probably sensing the testosterone.
"Actually, it would be a good idea for Reeve to excersize explaining Wicca-you two should study together. I gotta run, anyway. Mind closin' up, Reeve? My grandma just texted me-"
"Yeah, I'll close up. I feel for you-having to hang out with the G-ma." We smiled at each other, the insider our only escape to privacy at the moment, with Faith glancing back and forth between us scornfully.
"I guess I'll see ya around, Justin!" I could practically see Faith's desperateness wafting in the air. I sighed, knowing that I would regret what I said next. What I wanted to say was "back the hell off." But no, I didn't say that at all. My friendly side took over, like it always did, and I ended up saying, "Hey, Justin, I was thinking we should all chill sometime. You know-you, Faith, me, and maybe I can bring another friend of mine along."
"Ohmygod, totally!" Faith squealed, perking up instantly. I sighed, locking the register up for the day. I had always been way nice when it came to boys and material things. Even if I'd seen it or him first, If one of my friends liked him, I'd end up setting up their date! And then, I'd have the audacity to feel jealous while I watched their happy relationship (they always ended eventually, but then the guys would be considered un-datable based on Girl-Code 101). Ugh, being a girl is too damn complicated. I give myself a huge AMEN... :)
"Umm, yeah, maybe." Justin muttered, obviously not as psyched as Faith. "Sounds...fantastic."
"Cool, so I'll see you around." Faith said, unfazed at his reaction.
"Love ya. Oh, and, uh, blessed be." I called as I fumbled with the register keys, trying, once again, to lock the damn thing. I glanced up to see him shoot me a small smile before disappearing out the door.
"God, he is so f-ing hot." She said, pretending to swoon.
"Mhm." I mumbled, finally getting the register closed. "Fina-fucking-lly!" I said, throwing my hands up.
"Oh no, Reeve, what am I going to wear!"
"To where? And when?"
She stared at me as if I was missing something huge, then sighed, knowing that she was either going to give the answer away or we'd be staring-off dumbly for hours. "To the double-date? With Justin? The one you set up less than five seconds ago-"
"Ohhhh. Umm, Faith, I never called it a double date. I said we should hang; you know, as friends..." She blinked, looking as if the word wasn't in her vocabulary. "Homies? Friends? Buddies? Chill-pals? Friends?-"
"Do not start with your nonsense made-up words." She laughed, and then jumped right back to the subject. "Seriously, though..."
"Dude, are you cereal? I say a huge "what the frik" to your freak-out. Calm yourself...breathe...there you go. Now, it's not a date; were just hanging out. Capiche?" She narrowed her eyes, but before she could start her mean-girl babble, my phone started singing Lil Wayne's Drop the World. I glanced down at the caller ID, smiling in spite of myself as a picture of me and Matt Rally kissing popped up on the screen. Matt and me had been dating for officially five months as of today. It was a pretty good realationship, besides the fact that I thought he might be cheating on me, or at least messing with other girls. A lot. (But, I mean, we did go to different schools, although we saw each other on a basis. I made sure of it). And no, I wasn't the type of girl who watches her boyfriend like a hawk (and not just because I couldn't, being as we went to different schools), waiting for that pretty girl who keeps eyeing him to walk up so I could missell-launch her ass. No; In fact, I was very flexible with guys, being one of the reasons, I think, that they loved me so much. I hardly got jealous, and when I did, it was only a bit, and I handled it maturely. I wasn't clingy. At all. And I made them feel like they were on top of the world on their shittiest days, and I always supported them in anything they did. All that I asked in return was the same. And I honestly didn't mean to settle for less than the same treatment, but I'd fallen in love with Matt after two weeks, and it was almost impossible to get away now. The times he would tell me that my ideas were stupid, I'd laugh it off, because I wasn't that chick; the one who gets all pissed and emotional. I was cool, laid-back, confident, and strong. Or so everyone thought. Underneath that exterior, though, I was a total softie. A, dear Goddess, emotional person. Not that I planned on letting anyone know that... So, yes, I totally understand those rude-ass comments you're probably making right now, including: "Wow, your whole relationship is a lie." or "What a joke." or "Technically, your not really dating because, technically, you have to show emotions in order to love him, technically."
Technically, kiss my ass. I know, my relationship was a joke, and I was slowly working my way out of it.
"Hey, Matt." I breathed into the phone, turning away from Faith's annoyed expression. She knew all about me and Matt, and she definitely didn't approve.
"Babe, you 'member how I have that football game at five-thirty?"
"Oh, goodness!" I said, glancing at the clock above me. Five O'clock, it read. Major shit! "I totally forgot-I'm on my way now, though-"
"Yeah, well, on the way over can you maybe pick up my shoulder-pads? I left 'em in my bedroom, on the floor I think." I heard Drew, Matt's best friend's voice in the background yelling, "Were about to kick some ass, babyyyyy!" There was an explosion of laughter and grunts, and I couldn't make out what Matt was saying, but he was yelling as well. It was muffled, like he put the phone against himself, artificially putting me on hold. "Babe?" He finally said, still chuckling at something.
"Sounds like you guys are having a blast," I said with an edge. There you go, Reeve. Stand up for yourself. Don't allow him to put you on hold all the time-
"So, yeah, can you?"
I sighed, locking the front door of the shop behind me and Faith before answering, "Totes Magotes," my gooberific/dorky replacement of "totally".
I hesitated before breathing, "I love you." into the phone.
And then he hung up.