AbracaWTF: A Useless Witch, Part Four

Welp, here is the conclusion to the first story!  Thank you all to everyone who has been reading and enjoying it!  I am editing the next full story, so part one of that will be up in about two weeks.  Would be sooner, but I’m heading to Texas this Friday and have a long weekend there, and then go right back into traveling for work, so I’m not anticipating much downtime.  Stay tuned, though!

The ghost, to no one’s surprise, is Deathwatch Owens.

“Silly name, I know.  I collected deathwatch beetles as a child and one thing led to another and the name stuck.  Would have grown out of it, but my mother, rest her soul, wanted the family name to be cemented in history forever.  She wasn’t very specific when she was casting that particular spell, though, so here we are.”

Deathwatch Owens smiles and twiddles his thumbs while Rafe and I sit around the kitchen table.  He is – was?- a portly short man with round everything, like a scholarly Santa Claus.  And now, as a ghost, he is a portly short man with round everything dressed in a fluffy bath robe.

Continue reading “AbracaWTF: A Useless Witch, Part Four”


Abraca-WTF: A Useless Witch, Part Three

Riley lives on the nice side of town in a small two bedroom house- an actual house!- with a fenced yard and petunias lining the sidewalk.

“Wow, some lair.”

Rafe doesn’t answer.  I follow him inside.  The living room is sparse, with just a recliner, a table, and a small TV while a couple of generic landscape pictures hang on the lilac walls.

“Don’t touch anything,” he says over his shoulder, and disappears down a hallway.

I tuck my hands into my pockets because they are notorious for disobeying, and go ahead and snoop around while not actually disturbing anything.  Hey, leave me alone to my own and I have to poke at things, it’s just my nature.

Continue reading “Abraca-WTF: A Useless Witch, Part Three”

Abraca-WTF: A Useless Witch, Part Two

I throw out the remaining pizza crusts and wash the few dishes I have.  Then I dust.  Then I vacuum and wash the blinds.  Finally, I brave cleaning the bathroom and tackle the floor-drobe monster growing in the corner of my room.

I’m too wired to sleep.  Definitely shaken and much too awake to watch mindless television, which is a damn tragedy.

I can do magic.  I am magic.  Elation and pant shitting terror race after each other through my veins and do the conga up my spine.

I’m a witch.  Fully and finally.

Holy shit.  I am a witch and I have no fucking clue what to do.

Continue reading “Abraca-WTF: A Useless Witch, Part Two”

Abraca-WTF: A Useless Witch, Part 1

Magic runs in my family in varying degrees just like heart disease, bad decisions, and craziness. Personally, I think the craziness is just a side effect of everything else, but my mother never agreed.

“It’s the curse of our blood,” she would say, head angled high so she could stare down her nose at the very thought that one of the four family traits was anything less than a full blown attribute to be prized.

Craziness settled into my mother at an early age. That’s my theory and it’s yet to be disproved.

Anyway, back to the magic. I’m a late bloomer with it. My cousins were casting spells by the time they were ten, making toads pop out of toasters, levitating buckets of water over unsuspecting victims, turning chocolate milk into something I’m not gonna name because that was just too fucking traumatic, etc.

Don’t get me wrong, I tried to cast when I was their age. I gave myself headaches and nosebleeds for over a month one summer, fed up with the pranks and snide comments about my weak genetics.  Nothing more came of it than a general wooziness and a sense of shame and anger that led me to my most epic display of crazy: throwing all of my cousins’ favorite clothes, diaries, and baseball memorabilia onto a bonfire.  Then I glued all their porn stash materials to the outside of the house.  If the bonfire incident taught me anything, other than the immense satisfaction of petty revenge, it was that I could take comfort in the fact I was probably not adopted, because crazy like that is something you tend to inherit.

Then I left.  I caught the midnight bus to California, ran out of money by Kansas, and got a couple of jobs.

So here I am, a couple years down the road and legally an adult.  I work at a shitty diner flipping burgers and refraining from poisoning the general populace.  I still try to practice spells in my off hours, just on the chance a spark will catch, which is what brings us to Saturday night.  I tried to do a spell and, well, it sort of worked.

Except now there’s an unconscious dude in my tiny cockroach castle because he appeared in a flash of blue smoke and I might have hit him over the head with a baseball bat.  On closer inspection, the dude turns out to be Rafe Madison, semi-regular diner patron who never smiles and only orders his coffee bitter black with a side of plain eggs and toast.


Continue reading “Abraca-WTF: A Useless Witch, Part 1”