Banned
Night, August 27, 2015
Hestia Wintergerald, a beautiful blonde Tituba and resident mother hen. Aella smiled politely, straightening her back and turning towards the girl. Distantly, Aella wondered why Hestia would talk to her and not someone else, but she tried to seem welcoming.
“Hey,” Aella said, rubbing her hands onto her pants, wiping away the perspiration, “I’ve been great. What about you? How was your summer?”
There was an itch in the back of her mind to look at her watch – an itch grown from boredom, but Aella stayed her eyes, afraid that Hestia would believe she’s bored with her. But she had restless eyes and they darted around the room, breathing in the occupants. A gaggle of girls were situated near her, gossiping about a celebrity of sorts, and Echo was waving to her as well. Shyly, Aella twiddled the tips of her fingers towards her, hoping to appear nonchalant rather than nervous. After all, Aella was nervous. Soon, they would be arriving at Salem Witches’ Institute and classes would begin – what if she was in a class where she didn’t know anyone? Also, she was a bit afraid she’ll say something in the next five minutes to make Hestia uncomfortable somehow. It always happened.
“I’m sorry, Hestia. I have to go, I’m not feeling too well.” Aella muttered, slipping off the seat and racing away.
Her feet ate up the stairs, the slapping sound of her sneakers sounding like a broken record and a swirl of sweat slithered down her cheek. Aella concentrated hard on the placement of her feet, slipping and falling multiple times but re-gathering herself before anybody saw. Thirty-seven floors she had to climb – she should have stayed in her room in the first place. Her stomach gurgled with gross acid, a physical manifestation of her anxiety. At a point, her foot missed a step and her hand stung as it slammed into the dirty stair to stop her head from being concussed. There, on the twenty-ninth floor Aella rested, her body splayed upon the stairs and her heart beating a thousand a second. Her cheeks felt cold and dead and her lungs ached like they were being pierced by her ribs having expanded so much. Her mind swirled and she felt not-there, as if it was all a dream.
After five minutes or so, and a couple of stares from passersby, Aella climbed the rest of the way to her room and spent the rest of the day listening to Mercury and Pluto.
“I’m telling you! That dumb slut stole my husband!” Pluto shouted, her sentence punctuated by a snooty sound.
“Ha!” Mercury cackled, “Stole him? You practically gave him to her!”
“I did not!”
And it continued on and on until Aella’s mind was almost cradled into the beginning wisps of sleep. Then her head slammed against the headboard. Sighing, Aella struggled to her feet, rubbing her head and yawning as she affectionately patted her ratties’ cages.
“Soon, babies, soon.” She whispered, shuffling into her uniform skirt and lazily stuffing her arms into her red cardigan over a dotted white button-up.
Her legs burned as she carried herself up the stairs, being jarred back and forth against the wave of students as they clambered out of the car. Finally, Aella stepped out into the fresh pine air and smelled the sweet smell of incense. The beautiful red building looked brand new, like it always did, and Aella wrapped her arms around herself as she moved towards the dining hall.
Welcome back, the building seemed to whisper as she entered the doors.
