I look up at the bright stars twinkling cheerfully. They seem the exact opposite of my current mood. They beam down at me, and it seems like they're trying to make me smile. But inside, I just feel hollow. I replay the scene that's happened at four o' clock in my head.
"What do you mean honey?" Mom asked me, not really listening. She was sitting up primly on our couch, fumbling with a complicated knot in her knitting.
I gulped and cleared my throat loudly, procrastinating. "Well, um, you see, I don't know how to explain it, but—"
"Dear, just get on with it!" Mom interrupted, sounding slightly irritated. "I have to finish these sock in time for the baby shower next weekend."
I laughed nervously. "Oh, sure Mom." I picked up my ipod and started fiddling with it. "Well, I'll make it quick. You-see-I'm-a-wizard-and-I-can-do-magic," I blurted out.
Mom looked up at me, with a distracted look in her eye. "What?" she asked, confused now.
I giggled nervously. "Yeah. I can do magic."
I had her full attention. She dropped her knitting and leaned towards me. She put a hand on my forehead. "Are you feeling alright?"
I brushed her hand off impatiently. "I'm fine. I'm not hallucinating or anything. You want to see?"
Without waiting for an answer, I reached over my shoulder and unzipped my convenient invisible little storage space which followed me where ever I went. It had some technical name, but I just called it the C.I.S.S.. Mom let out a collective gasp, but I ignored it. I reached in, and felt for my Wizard's Manuel. I opened up to a bookmarked page, and muttered the incantation.
A few seconds later, I stood up, and pointed up. Suddenly, there was a soft bang, and a tiny hole.
Mom stared at the ceiling. She seemed flabbergasted.
I felt energy leaving my body. "Mom?" I asked tiredly. "Are you okay?"
She didn't answer. She simply gaped at the ceiling in shock.
"Mom, that's what I am. I'm a wizard. I can do these things."
I heard a faint voice, and it took me awhile to realize that it was my mom speaking. "R-r-really. That's quiet something. Then tell me something. A-a-are there more of y-you?"
I felt excruciating pain, like I had been stabbed by a knife. The way she said 'you' made me sound like an extinct species from Mars.
"Yeah," I said, trying to keep the hurt out of my voice. "There are a whole bunch of us. We try to protect our universe, and other universes from death. We work to save species."
"O-other universes?" she asked, looking as if she might pass out any second.
"Mom," I said slowly. "Maybe you should lie down."
And I had taken her up to her bedroom and made her sleep awhile. Afterwards, I went back downstairs to fix the hole in our ceiling.
Mom isn't okay. After she woke up, she seemed dazed, like she had a bad dream. But she had still smiled at me and said that she would be fine.
But I can see it in her eyes. She no longer looks at me the same way. She no longer calls me those silly pet names that I'd begged her to stop calling me when I turned ten. What hurts the most is that she's scared at me. Whenever I'm around, she glances at me wearily, as if she were afraid that I might blast her into pieces any second.
I made a mistake telling her. Mom can't handle the fact that we live in a world of magic, and that I've been in battles with the Lone One (devil, she calls it) since I was twelve. It's beyond her sanity level.
I know what I have to do. I pat the ground beside me, feeling around for my manual. I turn to the back to talk to my partner.
"James?" I whisper softly.
He takes awhile to respond. "What is it?" he asks. I hear sawing sounds, and I know that he's in his garage, working with his dad.
"I'm going to do it."
The noises stop for a moment. "Are you sure?" James asks again.
"I'm sure," I reply. And I am sure.
"Okay. Talk to me after. And don't worry. She'll be fine."
I smile sadly, though I know that he can't see it. "Thanks."
I close my manual and stand up. Taking a deep breath, I head downstairs and into the kitchen, where I know Mom spends most of her time, prepared to work some magic.