Wiccan Act One: Occult

1 | With My Last Breath

Compared to after dark, his room was a completely different place. Wind always blew in from the windows, breathing in a crisp leaf smell. Natural light found its way into the house, sitting in perfect view of the sunrise. However, that didn't help with the cold all that wind brought with it. Mornings were chilly, but nights were freezing and crawling with all sorts of inhuman noises.

"I was on the phone with dad, you don't have to yell." Cyrus groaned, feet stomping down each stair.

"You were taking a long time, and it was either I yell or Christian go up there."

Nothing could beat a Rose Laveau breakfast. Heat embraced him on his way down, sweet smells of honey and freshly cut fruit carrying him deeper into the kitchen. Food took priority on the counter, pushing everything else aside. Colourful assortments of apples and oranges paired with unhealthy amounts of pancakes, toast and eggs. To the right of that was a glass jar, the side of his head filled to the brim with apple juice. On the opposite end, a carton just as large with milk as they had bought two days prior.

If she keeps this up, they're going to go broke.

Aunt Rose had her attention fixed on the plate in her hand, trying her best to see through the strands of hair that escaped her flopping bun. She spun, making her way around the table, her heels clapping against the tiles.

"How are you able to move around in those?" Cyrus chuckled. He ran to the stove, flipping two more pancakes onto her already overgrown stack.

"I make it work." She sassed, tearing off her batter stained apron to reveal a much more business-appropriate dress. Its maroon colour did wonders for her eyes, bringing out its forest green colour through her glasses. Every stitch seemed to compliment her curves, reminding Cyrus of how young his aunt was.

"I agree."

Cyrus rolled his eyes at the sound of Michael's groggy voice. He tried not to make eye contact with the much older Michael sitting at his counter, eating his food. Trying his best not to gag when Michael planted a sloppy kiss on Aunt Rose's cheek.

"Yeah Ms Laveau, these pancakes are amazing!" It was a miracle Christian was not choking with the dozens of pancakes he was attempting to fit into his mouth at once.

Even though Aunt Rose mentioned him, it took Cyrus a minute to realise they had another invader sitting on their counter reading a dust-covered book.

Christian was like an elf, short with pale skin, pointy ears, a button nose and a childish grin that made you want to give him anything he asked for. When he got everything down with some help from a glass of juice, he sprung into action, nearly giving Aunt Rose a heart attack.

"Thanks for the breakfast Ms Laveau, but we need to run before we're late for school."

"Why is it you get to eat breakfast at my house and I don't?"

"Because you were upstairs conversing with your dad and I was downstairs waiting. I had to pass the time and your aunt graciously offered."

Cyrus sighed, giving up all hope of winning against Christian. He simply made his way to the front door, his best friend in tow. Luckily, Aunt Rose sneaked him a small paper bag with a few pancakes and a box of juice from the fridge.

"You boys want a ride?" Michael offered. "I'm just about to head out."

"No, we're good. I'll drive us." He immediately regretted saying that out loud, seeing all life drain from his aunt's face for a split second.

"Are you sure you don't want him to drive us? Michael is a really fast driver."

It was clear from his tone that Christian was second-guessing him for the same reason. He wanted to know if Cyrus was certain he wanted to sit behind the wheel again. The boy stared blankly at each dent knocked into the metal and then how each crack in the glass met up to form a spider web of sorts.