The SpellBook

Claire signed and rubbed her temples. She glanced at the old grandfather clock on the wall out of habit. It had been broken for months. The soft ticking used to annoy her, but now she kind of missed it. Silently, so as not to wake her grandmother, she pulled her phone out of her back pocket. 11:11 p.m. Her essay would have to wait. She stood up to stretch. She reached her arms above her head, then to the side. A pile of booked toppled to the floor. Claire groaned. She kicked them and muttered “goddam hoarder” to herself. The study was filled with piles of books, papers, and photo albums, but despite that, it was the only room aside besides her bedroom that still had floor space. She clenched her fists. “Just ten more months and I can leave this hell hole” she muttered as visions of torching the place filled her mind.

She looked for the safest place to walk to get to her room. She paused at her grandmothers door, which was never closed anymore as there was too much stuff in the way. Something seemed wrong. Grandma was slumped over more than usual.

“Grandmama? You ok? Claire shook the old lady. She was cold. Lifeless.

“Oh my God, grandmama, wake up! But Grandmama would not wake up again.

Claire dialed 911 with shaky fingers. After relaying the pertinent details, she tried to pace, which proved impossible amidst all the clutter. She looked at her Grandmama. There was a small black book in her lap.

Not knowing what else to do until the paramedics arrived, she took the book And opened it up. It was filled with strange writings in a language that was unfamiliar to her. She was about to put the book in a pile of clutter when an envelope fell out from the back pages. It said “Claire”

Claire opened the envelope. She held her breath as she read:

Dearest Claire,

You are a witch. I’m sorry I never told you. I did it to protect you. Please take this spell book and learn it. It will help you. The spells in red only work once. I love you. I’m sorry.

Grandmama

Claire opened the book again. She had no idea what the spells did, or even if they worked. But, why not try one?

Groo dim by-so-non she said, feeling rather foolish. Nothing happened. She flipped through the old tattered book.

“Ok then, how about this one? She said to no one in particular. “Kal bok shen doo” the lights flickered. Claire laughed wryly.

“She always was a crazy old bat” she muttered. Not wanting to be in the same room as her dead grandmother, Claire took the little black book to her room before heading outside to wait for the paramedics. She flicked her light on and took one look at her bed and screamed. There, on her bed was hundreds of dollar bills! Claire’s eyes went wide. She stared at her bed in disbelief. There had to be at least $20,000 there!

There was a knock on the door.

“The paramedics” Claire said. She tried her best to focus while dealing with the paramedics, police, and fire department, but all she could think about was the spell book, and the big pile of cash on her bed. Which one of the spells had it been? Could she do it again ? She had so many questions!

Once the house was finally silent Claire pulled out her spell book again. She noted with disappointment that most of the spells were only able to be used once, including the ones she previously cast. She decided to try a “reusable spell”. Jark lang sook ba she said with more confidence. Suddenly piles of clutter fell on top of her and killed her.