Super Sweet Something

Having a 16th birthday party is over the top, expensive, and a waste of time to me. It’s a concept of doing something grand for this age that I still don’t understand, though. Turning 16 is something serious for boys and girls who are ready to drive. MTV’s old tv show, “My Super Sweet Sixteen,” made it seem as if I had to have the biggest party of my life when I turn 16 or I would never indeed be 16. I never wanted a party; I just wanted a home-cooked meal from my mother and then a nap. But my parents wanted to give me something they could never have, and for that reason, I decided to get into this stretch, white limo, in a “Beauty and the Beast” Belle, yellow dress, and a silver tiara. 

Upon my arrival, I stepped out of the limo with my father’s help and smiled at everyone, screaming my name, taking pictures, and recording me. I don’t remember inviting this many people, or anyone in all honesty. But I had my father by my side, and that’s all I needed. My dad is my best friend, and there’s no moment in life that I don’t want him to miss out on—even the ones I don’t want to have.

As I make my way to the stage, I keep my eyes locked on the ground so I don’t trip over anything. The room is partially dark, with the only primary light source being the stage and multiple strobe lights. The venue was quite large. It was big enough to fit 20 round tables that could fit ten people at each. With my father’s help, I climb the steps onto the large stage that almost extended wall to wall horizontally as the DJ hands me the mic. This was my moment to thank everyone for coming to a party I didn’t want to attend. But before I can say anything, a person appears out of nowhere, out of thin air, on the other side of the stage. Their presence shifted the room and made everything feel frozen; they made it feel as if time stopped.

I looked over at them, but they were at the end of the stage where the lights weren’t on. The only stage light was the spotlight on me. To others, they probably wouldn’t be able to notice the figure there, but since I had some light, I could faintly see them.

 “Uhhh, so who are you?” I said, my thoughts accidentally being said out loud.

The stranger who was facing opposite of my direction turns my way. Their eyes were a similar brown to mine as they held my gaze. They then turn back to face the crowd. 

Completely terrified at this point, I wonder if it came across my parent’s minds to hire some form of security for a party with this many people. Or the venue at least has some structure. I can obviously answer that question; no, nope, absolutely not. If they did, this stranger would not be on this stage, making myself and the guest my parents and I invited uncomfortable. The presence of this stranger made me feel as if my life were in danger, so it made me wonder why no one else was moving.

Everyone in the crowd has not made an attempt to leave yet, which is strange to me. They all show uncomfortable expressions on their face but are standing still, including my mother. It seems as if everyone is frozen in time as if they have no control of any movement or facial expression with their body. At this point, my mind is trying to think of what I should do. Should I run, stay there, scream, talk to the person, something other than talking to myself in my mind?

Common sense is something I’m proud to say I have; therefore, I don’t walk up to this stranger. The phrase “Stranger Danger?” is the first thing that comes into my mind, making me chuckle. HOWEVER, something I lack is not getting distracted by my own thoughts, and because of my own joke and small chuckle, I capture the stranger’s attention. This time instead of staring, the stranger decides to hold my gaze and take a step closer in my direction. 

I don’t give myself time to think as this figure slowly approaches me. I can’t make out anything but their eyes. I need to somehow befriend this stranger, but I don’t know how to. They approach me faster, and I don’t know, and I don’t want to know what this person-figure will do if they get any closer to me. 

I look into the crowd of uncomfortable expressions to look for a familiar one, and I notice my father in his bright yellow shirt that matches my dress. He did that on purpose, and I didn’t mind one bit. I see that my father is standing still like the rest of the crowd; however, the expression on his face is one of worry while the rest of the crowd is frozen with the emotion they felt before time froze. They were frozen in excitement.

I’ve always been a daddy’s girl; we always had a special bond where we understood one another. I could go to him for any significant decision that needed to be made in my life. He taught me to weigh the pros and cons, and he taught me to make decisions that will help me in the future. So, the worried look on his face was refreshing but still terrifying when I needed him. He knows I don’t do well under pressure, so in a circumstance like this is bringing me over the top,

The stranger notices that I am looking towards my father (he isn’t hard to miss), and in an instant, he was able to move his body again. He began to shout to this stranger as he runs to me on the stage to get away from me. But all of that changed when I felt a breeze rush past me. It was cold and caused a shiver to surround me.

There’s a noise I hear faintly, but I’m trying to get my mind to stop spinning from the dizziness that followed with the gust of cold air. Within ten seconds, I could focus again, and as I looked in panic for my father, I see that the stranger is in front of him. They are dressed in a black cloak-like garment with a hood, so their form was still unknown to me.

My father is begging this person to leave me alone. He begins to plead and say he’ll give whatever they want, money, friendship, freedom, whatever. 

Then my father disappears.

I scream.

“Your father is a very bad man,” said the stranger as they appeared back on the stage in the literal blink of the eye. 

My heart begins to race; I can’t breathe. This stranger acted like a magician and made my father disappear. I want to do nothing but attack, but I don’t know what this, whoever it is, to attack me back. I begin to panic, but I can’t catch my breath at this point. I am terrified of what this person will do to me next. I tried to listen to what they said, but I couldn’t form a breath to say anything back. Even with a million questions running through my mind, I was too scared to speak. 

“He hurt me and now he must pay,” they said back in response.

As they move closer to me, they drop their hood from their cloak, and slowly I process their features until finally, I saw a reflection of myself, but older. This can’t be possible. Immediately I want to think, to believe this is all a joke. That a prank tv show host will jump out and scream as I match their screams with a girlish shriek. But this was not one of those moments.

 “You were supposed to be mine, but your father, your stupid father took you away! I was never allowed to hold you, feed you, love you how you were supposed to be loved. I was pushed aside, sent away in hope that I would find you. But he sent me away to a place where people like I don’t belong. He didn’t want you or I to be special, together.”

My biological mother. Common sense kicked in and confirmed that this stranger, this stranger, now the woman is my mother. It would make sense physically because we looked too similar, and I looked nothing like any of my parents, but this is still crazy. All I know is that I’m still scared, but now confusion has added its way into this mixture.

There’s always a point at which you need to follow either your mind or heart. That’s something my father always reminded me of. I knew I couldn’t think anymore because my mind became blank, but my heart wasn’t racing. Instead, it was beating normally; it felt warm. Warm enough that my whole body enjoyed this feeling, and I felt free. It was as if I were stiff myself, but now, I can move freely as if my spirit was lifting me up and I could float, I could fly. 

Yet, I was still scared to speak. I was still spooked by the fact that this person could just make my father disappear. I was confused about if this person was actually my biological mother or not. I don’t know exactly what to do or ask. I stay quiet but warm. 

My heart wants to extend my hand out to this person, but my mind refuses me of any movement. Tears begin to form in my eye from staring too long, which makes the stranger speak again.

“Don’t cry young one. There’s no need to be afraid.” 

I still refuse to speak. I still haven’t made my mind up of what to say. My mind was still trying to connect what I just discovered to what was going on right now. 

“Why won’t you speak?” she asks, “Are you too afraid that if you do, I’ll come closer and you join your father? You won’t join him. Let me explain.” 

Under this dress, I’m not wearing heels, yet my feet hurt, so I decided to sit. It’s better to sit because, at any given moment, my legs would give out from some form of shock. The stranger’s comforting eyes follow my movement, and she begins to copy it. 

“You were born on this day, in almost two hours, twenty-nine minutes, and six seconds exactly. I am your real mother, but I am not entirely human. Instead, I am someone special, someone you were supposed to be like. You see I have this gift of powers in which you were supposed to have as well, but your father said no. He said he didn’t want someone like me to raise you, he wanted you to be different, to be normal.” My true mother said. Tears begin to fall down her face as she continues to speak.

“He sent me to this place where one day it is hot and the next it was cold. Where people are young and then people were old. I didn’t belong there, but I was told I could find you there. I searched for so long to find you and I couldn’t. And now I know that your father was this evil in which my people spoke of. They said his kind could never love who I was. That we couldn’t raise you naturally, like how humans are supposed to. They were right, but I didn’t listen. I loved him and I thought he loved me. He didn’t. Instead, he sent me away, to a place where he knew I should never go. He told me I could find you there and I believed him. I went through more than extreme terror and pain, but I found my way back. I came back to the place where you were conceived, and I did everything to find you. And now I’m here. I, your mother, came back for you.”

As if my brain couldn’t handle it anymore, it went into overload. So many questions filled my mind. Why would my father not love my mother? What is she? Why did she come now? Why did she believe I was away? Is she lying? Is this a joke?

More tears form in my eyes as I look up into the bright lights from the stage and let out a breath so strong that I didn’t know I was holding. I want to avoid eye contact because who knows what my eyes will tell after hearing all of this. I am still on the stage, with my mother, my real mother, which is not a dream, even when I try to convince myself it is one. 

Cautiously, I slowly get up so I don’t trip over my dress. Right now, I want to be alone but not here, but there was nowhere for me to go. The only place where I could be alone was in my head and in my thoughts.

But at the same time, I want to find my dad, hold him and ask him what is going on. There’s so much I want to ask but be alone in a safe place where I can concentrate. My heart begins to race again as I get scared by the overwhelming amount of information. 

With no reminder anywhere of time, I don’t know how much has passed. My “mother” is still here, taking in my every movement, and once I look at her, I notice she is staring back. I know she’s waiting for me to say something, but I don’t know what to ask first, what to do first. Do I hug her because she’s my mother? Do I yell at her for believing I would be somewhere other than our home? How could she think I went somewhere far away from her?

“Please, don’t be confused. My intentions aren’t to make you scared or mad. I want you to know the truth because you deserve it.” said my mother.

“Wh-what are you?” I ask.

“I’m a witch.”

“Wh-why, wh-what?” What? None of this makes sense. I feel confused, betrayed, lied to. I don’t like it one bit, and I know she can tell by the humble look on her face. It’s comforting but annoying.

“I know you feel so much right now, but just know that you shouldn’t feel this way. I would’ve told you, if I had you around. Your father and I knew you were going to be special when you were born. I had great plans for you because you were to be blessed with powers, but your father didn’t agree with those plans. He wanted you to be normal, to not have to deal with what comes with this power.” She begins to get a glazed look in her eye, and I know mine look the same. I already know I believe every word she says. I know this is my mother, but I stay quiet and wait until she’s finished.

“I never meant to be far from you, but one day I didn’t see you around. You were, you are my heart and I wanted to be with you every day, but your father lied. He told me those who don’t care for us witches took you. That they threatened him and our family and that the only way to get you back was to enter where witches don’t belong. I would do anything for you, so I went to find you. Time was frozen where I was. I didn’t know how long it took for me to realize you weren’t there. But now I know. Now I know that I’ve been away from my baby girl for 16 years.”

I couldn’t handle it anymore, and I burst into tears. Everything is true; I just know it, I feel it. It makes sense that this warmth I felt inside of me came from my mother’s presence in my life. She came and wrapped herself around me; I fit perfectly into her. Her warmth matched mine, and we sat tearfully together. She caresses my head and lifts my chin. She wipes the tears from my eyes and smiles at me. She has a beautiful smile, a motherly smile.

“So, what does this mean? What does that make me?” I ask. I just needed to know one more time.

“My darling, my love. You are just like me; you are a witch.” She held the purest smile as her face brightened. I knew she was excited about finally telling me the news.

A witch, I am a witch, I’m supposed to be a witch. I couldn’t believe it. It’s hard for me to feel it. I have no powers; I don’t know spells or how witchcraft works. I watched Harry Potter, and every time I copied the spells, nothing happens. It is a fiction story, so that could be the main reason I thought to myself. Argh, this can’t be true! So I tell her that.

“How can I be a witch? I know nothing, I feel nothing,” As I point my finger up and down my body to emphasize that I look the same as anyone else. “This can’t be real. I-I can’t be a witch.”

“Well witchcraft works in a certain way my love. You see, I came just in time because when a witch is to gain her powers, she must be 16 and complete the ceremony.” 

“The ceremony?” I ask, confused even more now.

“Yes. When you agree to want to become a witch, a ceremony must be complete to show you are dedicated to this transformation. Once you do it, you can’t go back. If I were around, we would’ve had these 16 years to prepare you for this moment. Unfortunately, this is a now or never moment sweetie.” Her face became severe at this point but concerning. 

She told me I had to decide now if I wanted to accept a lifestyle I was supposed to be born in or continue with the one I have now. If I continue on, will she stay in my life? Will dad let her stay? Dad. What would he say right now? His face now frozen in my memory, I’m curious as to why he held his expression on his face. What was his reasoning for sending mom away? Did he know something I didn’t? Why would he hide something like this away from me?

I know that I need my father in these moments, but there’s no way he can help me now. No one can go, but I, myself, and I. Am I ready for a new lifestyle? On this day where I enter my teens, where I start to make decisions for myself, I don’t know what to do. I rely on my father for moments like this. To help me talk them out, understand the pros and cons. Now he’s not able to tell me if what I do will benefit my future growth. Now I don’t know if I even want to know what he’ll say.

As hard as I try to think, I just can’t come to a complete answer that justifies what I feel. I can only believe at the moment and not in the long run. 

So, I live in the moment.

“I’ll do the ceremony.”

Then everything went black. 

 - - - -

I can’t see anything or hear anything, but I can feel. I feel like I’m being levitated and wrapped into something, a cocoon, maybe. Maybe this is a transformation? Is what I said transforming me into who I indeed am supposed to be? 

But then I can open my eyes, and all I see is white. It’s the purest white I’ve seen. So pure that looking at it immediately had me entranced. I look down at myself and know that I’m now in a white cloak. As I take in my surroundings, I see figures sitting there in similar cloaks but black. Their faces have a blank expression, the same blank expressions as the people at my party had. What’s happening at my party right now?  

My thoughts become disrupted when I see my father but notice that he can’t move. His expression is now just like the others, blank and unmoving. The crowd is separated into two columns and five rows. There’s a carpet down the center that leads me to an arch. 

“Welcome to your ceremony,” said my mother, who stood at the arch, waiting for me to walk down. As I walk the carpet, I feel like I’m walking down a path that will change me forever. That I’ll become someone I’m supposed to. That I’ll have a transformation into a new life. Maybe then all my questions will be answered. Or perhaps I’ll have to seek the truth with newfound power.

“You stated you want to be who you truly are, now you will.” said my mother, my witch mother. “You will be dedicating your old life into this new life of witchcraft. Once you do this you’ll never turn back. Are you ready to accept this new change?”

This wasn’t the super sweet 16 I expected to be planned for me. This was something new. Am I ready for this new chapter in my life? Will it be like any other? Am I prepared for this new type of dedication? What kind of consequences will come with it? What new lifestyle will I have to adjust to?

“Yes, I am ready to dedicate my life, yes.” 

My mother’s face shines with a smile I will never get used to. This was the only way for me to have something with my mother. My mother, who I didn’t know, was actually mine. One that was sent away from me who spent all of my life to find me. I don’t know if I’m doing this for myself or doing this for my mother, but I didn’t want her search to go into vain. All I know is that my smile matches the same one she’s giving me at this moment. In my heart, I knew I did something right; it felt right. 

“Let the ceremony begin.” My mother said as she clapped her hands.

Then everything began to move, the time has now continued on.