Linda, the 'not-so-wicked' Witch

Introduction ~

September 16th 2007

Dear Diary,

Why doesn't anybody like me? Ben does… Mom and Dad do too… but they don't count. Why don't I have any friends?

I already knew the answer. It's because I was different; because I was a witch. Okay, first of all I'd like to point out to you that I'm absolutely 100… 95% not crazy - part of me is probably leaning towards crazy; my life consists of parents who just happen to be secret agents and a brother who's a chemical experiment.But I ignored my slightly crazy life and returned to writing.

I wish I had just one friend, but I can't give up magic. It's who I am. I'd never give that up.

I was sitting on the desk by my window in our new house. Dad calls it rustic; I call it rusty. We don't even get termites because it's so bad!

I ignored thinking about termites – no matter how hard it was - and continued writing. A few hours ago I would have been playing video games, or watching TV, but there was a blackout. Half the city was pitch black. Suddenly a massive gush of the wind blew into the room through the window, blowing out my candle. I sighed in the darkness, looking at my glow-in-the-dark watch.

"10.p.m." I thought to myself. Nobody would be watching.

"Ignita," I whispered. Nothing happened, and I frowned. Maybe I was tired? I shot a quick glance at my window, and saw my blue eyes looking back at me in the moonlit reflection with vibrant…erm… 'non-tiredness'?

I tried again, smiling as the spark caused the much-needed flame to flash into life. I basked in the orange hue of the candle, shutting my window roughly. If it didn't stick because of the gloop between the frame and the window - that seemed thicker than my brother - then I could probably have just slid it down gently.

I lie on my creaky bed and look up at my creaky ceiling in my nearly pitch dark room. The moon casted an eerie blue tone to fill my room, battling the flickering orange hue of the candle dancing beside me.

I sigh, blowing out my candle and allowing the moon its victory for the night. I needed sleep. I dragged myself under my covers and brought them to my neck. Then I realised I was still in my normal clothes. A leather jacket is probably not the most comfortable thing to sleep in.

"They really need to make a 'clothes change' spell, it would help so much." I thought to myself, pulling on a black nightgown. Sliding back into bed, I sigh contently and close my eyes, allowing the soft, warm grasp of sleep to find its grip on me and pull me in. You'd imagine a witch's final conscious thought for the night would be "is my broom still in the cupboard?" or "did I leave the cat on the roof?"

Sadly, my final thought of the night was "Hmm… wonder if there are any donuts downstairs?" Now I realise this is incredibly silly… Ben eats all the donuts in the house, on sight. Greedy pig.