Wiccan: Aisling's Journey

Chapter 1

         In the dark, Aisling sat at her desk in her attic room. It was bigger than most rooms because it ran the length of her aunt’s bed and breakfast. Her aunt had just finished clearing it out for Aisling when she’d arrived. It was perfect.

         Aisling’s room was decorated in a psychedelic style: the top of her single desk was hot blue with lilac trim around the edges which also boasted turquoise legs with pastel pink trims. She had a tie-dyed bedspread resting over purple and turquoise sheets. The bed itself was basically the only thing in her room that was twin-sized. At least two centuries old, the bed creaked in certain places but was still in good condition.

         Her bookcase was lilac purple with sky blue trimming. The bookcase’s four shelves were overflowing with books. Her dresser was turquoise with a pastel pink trim. Of course she had her TV sitting on a stand that was the same color as her desk. A beautiful purple and pink butterfly candle lamp adorned her desk’s corner. There was a candle inside which illuminated the lamp.

         Aisling sighed as the darkness closed in and she looked up to see pitch black night staring down at her through the skylight. Aisling leaned forward and blew gently on the candle lamp. She blew until the candle burst gently into flame. Aisling sat back smiling.


          “Close your eyes. Imagine being strapped to a large stake hammered firmly into the ground. Underneath your feet are piles of wood surrounded by hay and straw. There’s a crowd of people, staring and chanting ‘Burn the Witch! Your own friends and neighbors join in as one of the town’s magistrates brings forth a burning torch. You struggle wildly, trying to free yourself from your bonds, but it’s no use. The torch lights the wood beneath you. You squeeze your eyes shut, while the thick scent of smoke floats up to your nostrils. You scream wildly,” Mr. Haese, Aisling’s dynamic History teacher, demonstrates. A few students jump as if they’d been awakened.

          “Good, at least we’re all awake now,” Mr. Haese chuckles, then continues, “Our next unit, if you haven’t already guessed, is based on the Salem Witch Trials. However, I don’t want to limit our learning to only that particular town. Witch Hysteria was a common fear in the 19th century. Anybody that was slightly different from the norm was labeled a witch, in fear that the devil possessed their neighbors and friends.”

          “That happens today as well. Hey, maybe we should hold our own Witch Trials and weed out the dangerous witches among us,” Kent, a young man with shoulder length jet black hair and dark hazel eyes, joked.

          “NO!” Mr. Haese replied sternly, startling them all. “Pay attention! Under no circumstances and I mean NO circumstances, will this class partake in any kind of persecution whatsoever. Anyone caught doing so will be, at the least, suspended. Now is that understood?” Mr. Haese questioned, his penetrating gaze landing on each of his students individually. Once satisfied that everyone had gotten the message, Mr. Haese continued his speech.
         Aisling mentally sighed with relief. She was very aware that if anyone would have been subjected to persecution, it would have been her. Aisling had very much doubt that anyone in this class would try such a childish thing anyway, seeing as they were all 17 or older and in the eleventh grade. Aisling was the one exception. She had skipped two grades because of her advanced home-schooling and happened to only be 15. This was definitely slightly different from the norm. Aisling shuddered slightly, her gaze drifting around the classroom.

         The classroom was airy and cheerful; its off-white walls covered in posters depicting different periods of history. One showed the Battle at Gettysburg, while another showed the Mayflower crossing the Atlantic. Yet a third showed a young woman with black hair, standing with a noose around her neck, a platform underneath her. On the front wall was a huge marker board; in front of that sat Mr. Haese’s desk. To the left was the large oak door, crowned by the American flag. The opposite wall supported big, clear windows that spread to the back of the room. At the back was the classrooms miniature computer center.

         Aisling's gaze was drawn to a young man dressed in a pure white button shirt and fuzzy black jeans. He had shoulder-length dirty blonde hair and ocean blue eyes. A goatee on his chin made him appear mature. Possibly the hottest guy in the class she thought as he suddenly turned to the girl behind him and whispered something, causing her to roll her eyes at him.

         Aisling tuned back in as Mr. Haese started discussing their unit project, “You will each be paired up with a partner and given particular subjects to research concerning Witch Hysteria. This will be done solely outside of class. In here, we will be reading the Crucible, discussing the different devices used to identify witches, and learning a little about the modern-day Wiccan. Now everyone listen carefully as I give you your topics and partners.

         “Kent, your partner is Dana. You will be researching the Puritan religion. I want beliefs, values, rituals, etc. Jake, you’re partnered with Kent and you will be responsible for investigating the relations between the Indians and the Puritans, any clashes, sharing of knowledge; that type of thing.” Both boys clapped hands together excitedly. “Liam, I would like you and Bailey to work together research Matthew Hopkins and the other witch finders. If you can, a travel diary for each of the towns they visited and how many accused in each.”

         Mr. Haese was interrupted as the last bell rang and said, “Taylor and Aisling, you will be paired together as well. Please stay behind so I can explain your project.”
         Rolling his eyes, Taylor turned to Bailey to say, “Figures, he would pair me with her.”

         Aisling was in hearing distance and that comment immediately made her wish that he would burn up. Snapping around to say something sarcastic back, Aisling saw that the bottom left leg of his pants had caught fire.
         “Shit!” She exclaimed quietly as she quickly doused her fury, preventing herself from starting any more of him on fire. “Fire! Taylor, your pants!” Aisling shouted.

         Taylor, alerted to the danger, froze. Bailey unconsciously shied away.

         “Well, that’s going to do you a whole lot of good,” Aisling muttered, and dashed across the room, covering the fire with her sweater, suffocating it till it went out.

         Taylor looked at Aisling with new respect as he said, “Thanks.”

         Aisling nodded as she got up from where she’d landed on the floor.

         “Tay, are you alright?” Bailey asked with concern in her voice.

         Taylor nodded, and looked down at his pants. Puzzled, he said, “I’m fine. Nothing burnt. It’s as if there wasn’t even a fire there.”

         However, Aisling’s sweater was a different story. A wholly, once off-white pullover was now half burnt away, while the rest was smoke-stained. Taylor glanced at it, and winced.

         Bailey sighed, “Good Lord, Tay, look at what you did to Aisling pullover. It’s scorched.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Taylor retorted, then added, “I’m sorry, Aisling. I don’t even know how that fire started. I don’t even have a lighter and I’m not wearing any metal. I can pay for the sweater if you want.”

          “I’d take him up on that, if I were you. It isn’t often that you can weasel money out of this tight-wad. I’ll meet you outside, Tay,” Bailey said, heading out of the room. “Oh yeah,” she added, turning around, “Mom’s not going to be home until 8 tonight. She has to work late. Take your time; I have an hour before work. Oh, and Taylor,” Bailey turned around again to walk out the door, “behave, will you?”

          “Since when do I not behave?” he yelled after her.
Aisling absorbed this information slowly. So, Bailey was Taylor’s sister. Twin sister probably, hm.

         Mr. Haese strolled back into the room, saying, “I’m sorry, I didn’t think that would take so long. Now, Aisling and Taylor, you’re project is a little more complicated than the others, but I put you together cause I know you two can handle it. I would like you to research the girls that were accused of being witches, but not just from the Salem Witch Trials. In fact, I’d like more regional oriented information. Do some digging. For your project, it’s not just the facts that are important. It’s the personal story and history as well.”

          “Personal stories as in narratives and diaries?” Aisling questioned, as her stomach turned over as she realized how close to home this was hitting.

          “Exactly. If at all possible, I’d like names and dates. Anything and everything you can possibly find out. I have some places you can look, but that’s only if you still can’t find anything within a few days,” Mr. Haese stated.

         Taylor’s eyes were glowing with intrigue. “Cool, so it’s not actually like schoolwork, but fun instead. In fact, we can get started to day, if you are able to, Aisling. I can drop Bailey off at home and we could head to the library. How does that sound?”

         In all actuality, Aisling would rather be doing anything other than researching her own ancestors. However, she agreed, “Well, okay, but I have to call my aunt to let her know where I’m going to be.” The only thing her aunt asked of her is to be kept informed about her whereabouts. “It’ll take five minutes,” Aisling promised.

          “Okay, well I’ll just pull the car around. Meet me out in front,” Taylor instructed, heading out the door.

         Aisling looked worriedly after him. She jumped slightly as Mr. Haese spoke, “Don’t worry, he can be trusted.”

          “I can take care of myself,” she said for Mr. Haese’s benefit.

          Besides, I suppose I could always torch him again she thought to herself.

         The school’s pay phone sat right outside the front office. Aisling picked it up, deposited the correct coin, and dialed her number. The phone rang three times and, just as Aisling was about to hang up and try her aunt’s cell, a breathless voice said, “Hello?”

          “Aunt Lisa, it’s me, Aisling. You remember, Mr. Haese, my history teacher. Well, he just assigned a cool project to me and a partner. Taylor, my partner, wants to start working on it today. Is it alright to go to the library with him to do some research? I’ll be back before sunset,” Aisling asked, holding her breath.

          “I don’t see why not. If Andy paired you with him, he’s probably safe,” her aunt mused. “Go ahead dear, and have fun. I’ll see you later.”

          “Thanks. Bye,” Aisling replied.

          “Bye, honey,” came her aunt’s answer and then a click as she hung up.

         Just then, there was an impatient honk from outside the school. Aisling hung up the phone, grabbed her bag, and bolted out of the building to meet a shiny vintage yellow mustang sitting there waiting for her.

          “Hey, it’s alright,” Aisling informed them as she climbed into the back seat of the car. Bailey sat in front, next to her brother, who’d caught a look at the purple streaks that framed Aisling’s face.

          “Hey! Taylor, you may have all the time in the world, but I actually have to work tonight,” Bailey told her brother, who turned to glare at her, “so move it!”

         Taylor jerked the car into gear and slammed on the gas, allowing it to careen forward enough to shake up everyone in the car. Then he slowed down and drove correctly down the street.

          “I should have warned you about him,” Bailey said through gritted teeth. “Taylor has a tendency to overdo things, especially when he’s interested. Don’t let him work you too hard.”

         Aisling felt her stomach churn as if she were getting sick. However, she knew that she was fine. Taylor was smart, if he figured out what was different about her, she had no doubt that the entire student body would know by the end of the week. Even though her ancestors struggle would make a great project, she wasn’t ready to face the aftermath of revealing those and other facts. She knew that it wouldn’t go over well and it might not even go over at all. This project was starting to look like a trial in itself and certainly no fun.

         Taylor glanced in the rear-view mirror and said defensively, “Don’t let her scare you. She’s the one who always over does it. I know just when to stop.”
         Bailey let out a short laugh and rolled her hazel eyes, “Right.”

         Just then they drove up to a very beautiful gray house with two stories. It had a nice porch with luscious green grass and flower beds.

          “Here you go, Bails. Have fun at work. You’ll be home by 7 right?” Taylor asked.

         Bailey nodded, “I’ll leave Mom a message on her cell to let her know where you are. Make sure you’re home by 7:30. You know I hate being in this big house all by myself.” With that said she jumped out of the front seat, swung her purple backpack on her right shoulder and headed up the steps, into the house.

          “Well, now that the stick in the mud is gone, we can head to library, right?” Taylor said, watching Aisling plop herself down in the seat Bailey had just vacated.

          “Right,” Aisling replied.

         Taylor backed out of the driveway and powered off down the road. Aisling sat there, silently praying that he wouldn’t kill her with his driving.

         After a few minutes of silence, Taylor couldn’t take it anymore. Still keeping his eyes on the road, he asked, “So, Aisling, why did you have ask your aunt? Are your parents away?”

         Aisling took five seconds to ground herself, concentrating on her breathing and heart beat. Then she turned to him and said, quietly, “I live with my aunt. My parents lived in NY. They aren’t alive anymore.”

         Taylor was slightly shocked as he said, “I’m sorry.” Then he turned his full attention to the road. He felt bad for asking. Which is why he was startled when she spoke.

          “My aunt owns that bed and breakfast across town. Right on the edge of that tiny forest. I like living there,” she announced, quietly. She didn’t want him to feel sorry for her and she did really love her aunt. Besides there was no way she was going to explain why and how they died. He just wouldn’t understand.

         They drove the rest of the way in silence, passing by the clear cut grass yards of their town. Houses that were mass produced by the same unimaginative construction company sped past them as they drove through town, heading for one of the only buildings still standing from the town’s early days.

         The library was an old stone building that was built in the 1600s when the town was founded, and to this day the shelves that were built there still hold up the thousands of books that the library houses. Day in and day out, people traipse through, going up and down the steep steps, and not a one has broken yet. The only thing that has proved to need improvement throughout the years has been the parking lot, which was built when carriages and cars started appearing in the 1900s. The same system of checking out book has been used throughout the centuries, and is still in use today. “None of that new fangled technology is necessary,” Mr. Kreps, the librarian, says, “We’ve been checking out books this way for centuries and we’ll continue to do it this way for centuries more to come.”

         Aisling got out of the parked mustang and followed Taylor into the daunting library. It was laid out with old cobblestone walls that made it look like a miniature mansion. Inside it was set up like a study, complete with comfortable easy chairs to do research or read in. The carpet and walls were forest green and the furniture was a nice burgundy color. Aisling looked around at all the splendor. Even after all the time she had lived in NYC, she had never been in a library like this. The walls were lined with shelves that reached all the way to the ceiling. Each row of bookcases had a movable ladder to be used to get books on the top shelves. Aisling hadn’t even realized that she had stopped and was staring in wonder until Taylor, who’d been pretty considerate so far, decided to open up his big mouth.

          “What, in heaven’s name, are you looking at? Haven’t you ever been in a library before?” Taylor said sarcastically.

         Aisling immediately blinked her eyes, felt her anger ignite, and retorted, “Yes, but I’ve never been inside the board game Clue!” She glared at him for good measure, saw a tiny spark, and doused her anger once again. I wish that wouldn’t happen. Why must I be calm all the time?

         Taylor, who was taken aback by her comment, shut up, and puzzled over the frustrated look on her face. He led her through three different rooms, into a far back one where they would be doing their research. They settled down to work.

         A half an hour later, Aisling looked across the table at him and inquired, “So what exactly are we looking for? What’s the plan? I think we need to decide on one name or family connected with Wicca and research it. It’ll be easier that way.”

          “Huh, what the hell is Wicca? We’re researching witches. You know, the spell casting, demon coercers terrors of the 19th century, remember?” Taylor sneered, rolling his eyes as if to say ‘I think you’ve lost it’.

Aisling silently fumed. Demon coercing? Where did that come from? How dare he attack something he doesn’t know anything about and certainly doesn’t understand? I wonder how he’d feel if he was drowned in the public square or burned at the stake. Her ancestors were earth loving people trying to live in harmony with all things, even these condemning fellow humans. Figures!

         Her thoughts were interrupted by a gurgled gasp. Looking over, Aisling saw that Taylor’s once peach skin was now deathly pale; his lips were blue and his arms were flailing around like he was trying to surface in water. Aisling was aware that if he stayed under much longer he would pass out from lack of oxygen. Glancing around, she saw a dark shadow quickly dive for cover behind a bookcase. However she didn’t have time to investigate.

          “Shit!” Aisling whispered, then muttered, “Goddess bless, release this boy, blessed be.” Aisling held her breath and was relieved when her words brought a gasping Taylor back to the present library, dry and safe.

         Looking around, he examined himself from head to toe, and when he found himself completely in tact, said rather pointedly, “What just happened?”