Melanie's Witch Series: Part 12 Melanie in Ireland

Melanie walked the Irish hills and let her mind wander. She was heading into the city of Cork. She had saved for this trip back to her homeland for decades. She had not been to Ireland since her and her mom fled on that cold and blackened night. They filled what they could into their tapestry bags and ran. They boarded a plane for America. Running from the past, running from the darkness and from the evil that was now following them.
Magic was both a blessing and a curse. Melanie’s mom never seemed to really rest. She was never at peace. She kept one eye looking back on the past for she feared it would catch up to them and she needed to be ready.
Arriving back in Cork and walking the same hills she toddled around many moons ago, Melanie could feel a shift in herself. She felt freer here. She was alone with the sheep on the hillside. Her tiny thatched roof cottage was only a few rooms, but it was all she needed. She was only here for a three-month stint. She needed to finally read all her magic books and put the time and effort into honing her craft. She could not risk stopping time again, especially when she is out in a crowd. Someone or something would soon notice. Other than freezing time she was not sure what other magical powers she possessed. Now was the time to read the books that kept appearing before here for so many years. Now was the time to work out her magical spells. Now was here time to learn like every woman in her family before her. She needed to be secluded and somewhere she could concentrate, so she went home to Ireland.
Melanie walked back to her cottage. She was feeling a chill that hurt all the way down to her bones. She walked into the cottage and could see her breath, evil was present. She burned sage smudges and purged the house from all the spirits before her that dwelled in the house. She could feel the walls relax as she purged it of any resident evil. She opened the windows and felt the spirits leaving at her gentle persuasion.
Melanie closed the house back up and started a fire in her ginormous stone fireplace. She placed all the wood from the basket by the hearth into the fireplace. She grabbed a large match from the holder on the wall and lit the fire. Once it was ablaze it warmed her and the house. The house seemed happier with a fire going. It seemed to sigh with relief of her being inside and warming it up.
Melanie knew she was right to have come back to this house. Her mom had done it when she was young and her grandmother did too. It was where the Whickham family came to hone their crafts when they became a certain age. She had to leave her son Lucious with her mom and knew he was well loved and protected by his grandmother. No harm would come to him while she was away. She missed him so much, but you did not dabble in magic. You could hurt yourself or others that way.
Melanie felt like a truck had hit her. Jet lag was settling in on her like the fog rolling on the Cork hills. It blanketed her thoughts, clouded her judgment, and knocked her out. She curled up on the couch, pulled the family quilt around her, and fell into a much-needed slumber. She felt like now would be a good time to freeze time, so she could nap and not miss anything, but she still was not sure of her powers and how she actually made time stop. She hunkered under her quilt and fell into a restorative sleep. She would need to rest before her real battle would begin.
Photo by pixabay.com

Happy Haunting
xo
Debbie

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