An hour ago, I was downstairs, making coffee, when I thought I heard Jack's voice calling out to me. At first, I dismissed it as my imagination. I'd been so focused on preparing the coffee that I hadn't paid much attention. But as I headed upstairs, I felt a creeping sense of unease.
When I reached my room, my heart sank. The door was jammed, refusing to open no matter how hard I twisted the knob. The cold air that seeped through the crack was more intense than before, and a strange, pungent pheromone scent filled the air.
"What's wrong with this door?" I muttered, frustration mounting. I could feel the urgency of the situation; something was terribly wrong. My instincts screamed at me that I had to act fast. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves, and summoned my powers.
With a surge of energy, I pushed against the door. It was as if I'd unleashed a small tornado. The door burst open, and what I saw inside made my blood run cold. The room was engulfed in darkness, and a massive shadowy figure hovered over Jack. The creature had long, gnarled limbs and razor-sharp nails, and its form was an unsettling blend of shadow and malice. It had no face, just two floating red eyes that glowed menacingly.
"Erin, I felt something. Believe me," Jack said, his voice laced with fear as he grabbed my hand. His hand was still icy cold, a lingering reminder of the encounter with the shadowy creature.
I sighed, trying to keep my composure. "Okay, I believe you," I said, trying to reassure him, though my mind was racing with thoughts.
Jack's eyes searched mine, filled with uncertainty. "So, what was that, Erin? Is something wrong with this house?" His voice was firm, demanding answers.
I hesitated, tightening my grip on his hand. Should I tell him the truth? Could I? "Wait here," I said softly, handing him the coffee I'd made. "Please, drink this. Your hand is so cold. It will warm you up."
He took the cup, his hands trembling slightly as he brought it to his lips. I could feel the weight of the secrets I was about to reveal. My dad would be home any minute, and if he saw the state of my window, or found Jack here in this condition, it would raise too many questions.
"Jack," I called his name, drawing his attention back to me.
He looked up, his eyes still filled with lingering fear. "Jack, I'm not an ordinary girl," I confessed, the words feeling heavy on my tongue.
His eyes widened in disbelief. "What are you saying?" he asked, his voice a mixture of confusion and concern.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "Actually, I don't know what I am," I admitted, feeling a strange mix of vulnerability and relief in saying it out loud.
"You… don't know?" Jack asked, his expression softening with concern.
I nodded, my heart pounding. "Jack, my mom was a witch."
His reaction was immediate. "What?" He pulled back slightly, shock written all over his face. "Erin, are you kidding me? This isn't the right time for jokes," he said angrily, his voice rising with frustration.
I could see the disbelief in his eyes, the way he was struggling to make sense of what I was saying. "I knew you wouldn't believe me," I whispered, feeling a pang of sadness. The truth was too much, too unbelievable. But it was real, and I needed him to understand that.
"Tell me, how am I supposed to believe you? Does it even exist, Erin?" Jack's voice was laced with doubt, his eyes searching mine for answers.
I felt a pang in my chest, knowing how absurd it all sounded. I looked down, my voice quiet but firm, "Haven't you already encountered it?" The memory of the shadowy creature lingered between us like a dark cloud. "Ain't I serious now?"
Jack narrowed his eyes, his expression hardening as he processed my words. For a moment, the room was silent, the weight of my confession hanging in the air. Finally, he spoke, his voice steady. "Tell me everything, Erin."
I met his gaze, knowing there was no turning back. I told him everything—about my mother, my powers, the strange occurrences that had plagued my life. As the words spilled out, I felt a strange mixture of relief and fear. Jack listened intently, his face a mask of concentration.
"But you know," I said, my voice trembling, "I don't know what I am. I don't know if I'm human, or a witch, or something else entirely."
Jack was silent for a moment, processing everything I had just revealed. "Maybe you inherited some power from your mom," he finally said, his voice thoughtful.
"Then… am I a witch too?" I asked, my voice small and filled with uncertainty. The thought had always lingered at the back of my mind, but saying it out loud made it all the more real.
Jack looked at me, his gaze softening. He reached out and gently touched my cheek, the warmth of his hand a stark contrast to the cold that had filled the room earlier. "Do you regret it?" he asked, his voice gentle.
I hesitated, the answer weighing heavily on my heart. I didn't say anything, but the truth was there, plain on my face. Sometimes, I did regret it. The strange powers, the constant fear of the unknown—it all made my life feel like a cage. I couldn't go out freely, couldn't enjoy the simple pleasures my classmates took for granted. Some of them even avoided me, their eyes filled with fear and suspicion.
"But I like you the way you are," Jack said suddenly, his voice filled with sincerity. "I don't care what you are—whether you're a witch or even a demon. It doesn't matter to me. I only know that you're Erin."
His words sent a shiver down my spine, little goosebumps prickling my skin. No one had ever said anything like that to me before. I'd had boys try to court me, but I never gave them a chance. There was always something that held me back, a fear that they would never truly accept me if they knew the truth. But Jack… he was different.
The atmosphere between us crackled with something new, something I wasn't used to but found myself liking. I muttered, "So, you don't—y-you ha-have no problem with me?"