I’m so grateful now, that the meeting is at Amber’s house – the closer the better. I don’t think I can stand being outside for too long. I didn’t realise how fast I was walking until Amber pulled at my top.
‘What’s the rush?’ She asked breathlessly, bending over. ‘No rush, just want to get there, that’s all.’ I mutter, looking over her shoulders. I almost imagine the darkness pausing with us, hesitating and it makes me panic. I just want to get to her house.
‘I’m also dying for the loo.’ I blurt, hugging myself and shifting from foot to foot to emphasise it. I feel guilty for lying, and look at her anxiously. I try not to think about how I’m going to get home – alone. As we walk, I peer at her from the corner of my hood. Who knew before all of this that she only lived a couple of streets down. I had seen her at school, but I was too content in my own friendship with Jo-Jo to notice her. I felt guilty then, and knew that if it wasn’t for the way things had turned out, we would never have been friends. But not for the same reasons as Jay and Paul who gossiped that she was into witchcraft. The rumour of her Mum’s drinking came to mind when I looked at her house.
Neglect screamed at me. The house was in darkness and I nearly walked into a pot plant. The dried curled leaves stabbed my legs and I pushed it back against the wall. Part of it crumpled in my hands and if Amber noticed, she didn’t say anything.
‘Don’t worry, everyone will be here soon,’ she said cheerily, while turning the key.
I nodded, feeling an even colder chill from inside.
‘Mum works nights…’ Amber called letting the rest of the explanation hang. I helped her put on as many lights as possible. It was the kitchen that told me the most about her. All I could see were the remains of dirty dishes in the sink and smell the faint aroma of eggs and tobacco. I watched Amber hurriedly put a bottle of vodka in the cupboard below the sink and knew she was embarrassed. I looked away, pretending to read an old magazine on the kitchen table while thinking of my comfortable home. There was always the fragrance of food in the house, and even more so now, since the grump had been born. Even though our house was on the edge of town, and Amber’s house was the closest, it seemed a million miles away in comparison.
My brain rewinds then, remembering Amber’s disappointed face when I blocked her from coming inside. It must have looked so warm and inviting and I felt like such a bitch.
‘Hey Amber, fancy coming over for Sunday lunch, sometime?’ When there was no answer I looked up from the magazine, to find her staring at me in shock.
‘Really?’ Amber whispered.
I nodded.
‘I’d love to,’ she beamed.
‘Here,’ she smiled holding out a box of candles, help me get this lit will you?’ A tinge of regret creeps back in when I look at the overused black candles. Everything felt sinister, and the witchcraft rumours suddenly seemed possible. I watched her pull out another box of coloured candles. They were as overused as the other batch and I look from them to her, sceptically.
‘Meditation needs all of this?’ I whisper.
‘They’re the colours of the chakras,’ Amber smiled, putting down the multicoloured candles between the black ones. In the centre, she made a big deal of placing a solitary white candle on a glass matt. She stepped outside gracefully before turning to me, grinning from ear to ear. I have to admit, it did make the lounge look more inviting.
‘You’re gonna have to learn all of this, but don’t worry I’ll teach you.’ I could tell she was excited by the idea. I wasn’t, it looked too spooky for meditation and even though we were inside, I wasn’t looking forward to facing the darkness later. A loud knocking on the door, followed by even louder talking, interrupted us.
I had never wished as much as I did right then, that I could use witchcraft and fly right out of here. They all seemed to swarm in, excited and surprised, that I was even there. I looked at Amber, who beamed back like a mother hen.
‘Glad you came - you’re going to love this.’ Claudine almost sang.
‘Yep, meditation is quite difficult, don’t worry if you can’t do it the first time, Claudine was the slowest.’ Caro laughed.
Claudine dug her sister in the ribs pretending to be offended. When Andrea arrived, the mood instantly sobered and I knew I should have said something about my own meditating, but I didn’t want to offend them. Andrea seemed so intent on the training side and even brought me a typed list of breathing exercises to do at home.
It didn’t take long before everyone was sitting in a circle like excited children. I felt so boring compared to them. Everyone was into something; Wicca, Magic, Gothy meditations. It was in every film, and every bookshelf. Why couldn’t they just be themselves? What’s wrong with being ordinary? The way they hummed and rocked, I almost believed they would end up floating around and expected a few puffs of smoke, but there was nothing. They were just a bunch of kids pretending to be something they weren’t. What I didn’t expect when I opened my eyes was to see Andrea staring right at me. I wanted to run then, but instead, sort of smiled at her shrugging my shoulders. It took a few seconds to realise she wasn’t staring at me with her weird eyes, but staring straight through me. Amber had told me about trancing, but nothing could prepare me for how weird they looked. It gave me the creeps. She seemed to be the only wide-eyed trancer there. The rest of them had their eyes closed and didn’t even notice when I stood up quietly, curling up on an old couch, watching them. They looked like they were sleeping, and I grinned when I noticed Nettles had her i-pod on. The wire was carefully covered by her curly brown hair, and I wondered if she was listening to something different from the music in the background. Andrea had put on the sounds of the forest and it surprised me. I expected dark, moody music. I didn’t tell her about the whole range of CDs in my bedroom, including the sounds of the sea. The more connected I felt to the earth, the better I slept. I’m not sure whether it was a good thing or not, being here, though. Everyone in this group seemed more disconnected.
I found myself staring at Claudine and Caro who were petite and identical with large cat eyes and grins. Their pitch black hair was as natural as their perfect white teeth and cappuccino-coloured eyes.
They didn’t really seem to go for the Goth look, like Amber, preferring instead, the bohemian, and I had to admit, I really liked it. I love vintage, and although they didn’t dress alike, they wore the same colours, must be a twin thing. What really made them stand out was their love of trinkets, bangles, necklaces and hairpieces. You could always hear them before you saw them. They also loved flirting with Seth, which annoyed Nettles. They whispered to him in Portuguese, even though, according to Amber they were born in the UK – only their grandparents were Portuguese. They stopped when the mysterious Hawk arrived. Her rambling about him made me
