Half Lies (4 page)

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Authors: Sally Green

BOOK: Half Lies
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28th August, 2013

I am a pathetic postman-stalking person. Still no reply!

 

29th August, 2013

I’ve received a letter! Haven’t dared open it yet . . .

• • •

Gosh and wow! Sam is
soooooo
nice. He’s fantastic at writing letters. He says lots about how he’s been thinking about me every day and hoping I’ll come to see him. How he looks at the door of the Bean Counter when it rattles, hoping it’s me walking back into his life, but it never is. And he feels a fool for thinking I didn’t want to see him and he’s so sorry about my broken leg (the reason I’ve not been to see him, which I think is a reasonable lie in the circumstances). But the lie isn’t going to stand the test of time. Although at the moment I’m still too “fragile” to go and see Sam, I can’t really get him to visit me without him seeing my leg isn’t actually broken. And a broken leg will heal—but very slowly. I have to admit my long-term plan here was not well thought out! I did consider saying I had a contagious disease, but that just sounded too far-fetched (and a bit gross).

Anyway, one letter at a time, and I need to write back.

 

13th September, 2013

I can’t write properly—my hand is shaking and I’m crying again. I keep telling myself that it’s not all bad news and I think I knew, subconsciously, all along, but I’m still shaking and crying.

Sam and I’ve been sending letters every few days for the last two weeks. I avoided inviting him to see me and I did notice that he never offered to come over here. Then today Caitlin delivered my letter and stuck around to see my mystery Golden Boy for herself. She recognized him straightaway. She knows who his family is and who—and what—he is: A WHITE WITCH!

And I don’t care. Well, I do care. And really it’s great that he’s a witch, but I so want him to be a Black Witch and I know it shouldn’t matter. And that’s what I said to Caitlin when she told me. I said, “It doesn’t matter to me. He think I’m a fain and so maybe we can . . .”

Then Caltlin said, “It sort of came out in the conversation that you’re a Black Witch.”

So he knows what I am too. He’s written me another letter, which Caitlin’s brought. I’ve not read it yet. I’m too scared. If he’s sensible (and he is a White Witch after all) then he’ll want to stop our letters and have nothing more to do with me. I hope he doesn’t hate me.

 

14th September, 2013

Still crying. Still haven’t opened Sam’s letter

 

16th September, 2013

Read Sam’s letter last night. It set me off shaking and crying all over because he says he doesn’t care what I am or what he is, except that we’re friends and he likes me and will write to me again if I want him to. He’s also pleased that my leg isn’t broken.

I must stop crying so I can write him another letter.

 

30th September, 2013

Not writing much in my diary because I’m so busy writing letters! Sam and I are sending them to each other every day. (Caitlin is acting as our personal, rather busy postmistress.) The letters are even better and much, much longer than before, as now we can be honest and tell each other things about our lives. I’ve told him all about Mum and Dad, Finn and Nan. I’ve told him about Gab, but not about Gab’s Gift or what he’s been doing on White territory. But I was honest about not telling him all that. I said there were some things I couldn’t share and he said the same about his brother.

We’ve spoken once on the phone, but I really need to see him—although I can’t see how to do that at the moment.

I’m also hiding my diary from Gab—if he sees this he’ll flip.

 

21st October, 2013

Skylar’s been round. She was angling for an invite to my Giving. I told her that I was having a small, private ceremony—just me, Gab, and Dad. She didn’t look too impressed but said, “I understand. But there are few Givings among us.”

I had been thinking that it would be good to meet some of the other Black Witches around here but I do want a small ceremony, so I said, “We could have a gathering afterward—a bonfire in the backyard.”

Gab looked at me and raised his eyebrows.

I said, “How hard can it be to organize a few drinks? Can you let everyone know, Skylar?”

“Sure can.”

 

31st October, 2013

We’re getting ready for my Giving tomorrow. Dad gave me a dress of Mum’s. He said, “She wore it for her Giving. And she wanted you to wear it for yours.”

The dress is cream silk and figure-hugging to just below my knees but it’s not super tight—not too sexy but not girly. I tried it on to show Dad and Gab. Dad cried, and Gab’s eyes filled with tears and he said, “You look like Mum.”

 

1st November, 2013

Everything’s fantastic. Hardly any time to write as people are arriving for the gathering. I’ve had my Giving—I am a witch!!!!

It’s the best day of my life.

 

2nd November, 2013

Yesterday was amazing. AMAZING!!!!

So the Giving was like this. Dad, Gab, and I walked down to the beach. It wasn’t quite sunset, but not far off, and there was a breeze so Gab put his jacket round me. Gab looked gorgeous in a crisp white shirt and dark trousers (not jeans). Dad was very smart too. I was nervous (that I might mess up or Dad might mess up). I don’t have any shoes to go with the dress and was barefoot, which we all agreed was best.

On the beach Dad had his back to the ocean and Gab stood next to me. Dad did the whole thing really formally and he was totally sober, not a whiff of booze on him at all.

Dad said, “This is a special day, the most important in your life, Michèle. You are now seventeen and on the cusp of a great change from a young whet to a true adult witch. Since the day you were born I have looked forward to seeing you take your first steps in discovering who you really are. Your innermost self will be revealed through your Gift.

“Michèle, I have three gifts for you, and I give them to you now so that you can receive your true Gift.”

And he held out first a silver charm bracelet of Mum’s. He placed it in my hand. Then he gave me another bracelet, a thick silver chain that was his and had been his father’s. This was super special because I thought there was only one of these and Gab got it on his Giving, but I have one now too. And then he gave me a leather and silver bangle, from Gabriel.

Gab held out a knife, which Dad took. Dad cut the palm of his hand on the fleshy bit beneath the thumb and held his hand out to me. My hands were shaking a little as I took his hand and brought it to my mouth.

Dad said, “Drink my blood, Michèle. Accept my blood and the blood of our family so that you can become a true witch.”

I sucked on his hand and Dad stepped close to me and put his arm round me, whispering strange words in my ear. And I’m so glad he held me because my knees felt like they might give way. When he’d finished we stood like that for a while, with his arm round me. He whispered, “Michèle, you’re a true witch.”

I started to cry.

I looked over to Gab and he was grinning like mad but he had tears in his eyes. I’m sure we were all thinking that Mum should have been there, that she should have performed my Giving.

• • •

Then it was time for the bonfire in the backyard. There were over a hundred people here! All the Black Witches from the area came, including Skylar and Aiden, of course. I kept my eye on Dad, who was looking genuinely proud and had a glass of ORANGE JUICE in his hand most of the evening.

Aiden gave me a present—a necklace of pink quartz beads with a thin silver crescent hanging from it (the phase of the moon in the sky that evening, as he pointed out). Caitlin got me something too—a bracelet (cream pearls tied with a pink ribbon—do I strike everyone as a “pink” girl?). She said, “I can’t stay. I just wanted to say congratulations.” As she left I saw that people were staring at her and not in a good way. I realized that Skylar hadn’t invited any of the Half Bloods. The Black community uses the half Blacks but doesn’t want to socialize with them.

 

13th November, 2013

Dad is cooking! He’s making lamb curry, which is not a traditional French recipe (obviously) but something Mum used to do. I don’t think he’s had a drink since my Giving. Skylar has bought two paintings from him and is trying to help him get a commission from some fains she knows. We need it—we’re really broke (as ever).

Sam and I are writing to each other still. I told him about my Giving and he told me about his. He was 17 in January, although he looks and acts much older. He’s just found out that his Gift is potions. He says he’s not that great at them—his coffee-making skills are better.

 

28th December, 2013

OMG!!!!

I’ve found my Gift.

Obviously every day since my Giving I’ve tried to find out what it is. I’ve tried: throwing flames (like Nan); running fast; mind-reading; seeing into the future; and, I admit, the one we all want—flying. In fact I’ve tried all the Gifts I’ve heard of and every day I’ve stood in front of the mirror and tried to change my appearance, to transform like Gab does. But whatever I tried—nothing happened.

Then this morning I was in the bathroom and I picked up Gab’s razor and thought about what it would be like to shave. And that was it: I could feel myself transform. My whole head was changing shape—into Gab—and it hurt, like my head was in a vice, but within a minute I was looking in the mirror at Gab with stubble. I started to shave and found I was laughing and then I turned back into me.

Gab was in the kitchen and I asked him, “Does it hurt when you transform?”

“A little.”

“A little or a lot?”

“Not a lot, but . . . it’s uncomfortable for the time it takes to change.”

“And afterward? Do you get a buzz, a good feeling, when you’ve transformed back?”

“A little.” He looked at me and smiled. “You’ve got the same Gift?”

I nodded. “I just changed into you. I shaved. I’ve got the cuts to prove it.”

• • •

I’ve written to Sam to tell him about my Gift. Hope I don’t sound like I’m bragging.

 

1st January, 2014

I really am going to keep the diary going this year. Really. Properly. And I will be nice to Dad (who is back to drinking but not so much and is painting more).

• • •

Sam has written back to tell me he’s impressed with my Gift. We’ve been writing for months now and sharing so much. He says he’d love to see me but “as Michèle.”

 

10th January, 2014

Gab and I have been practicing every day. I can transform into Gab and Caitlin, but I’ve not managed to do anyone else. I can change when I want to, but I turn back to me as soon as I lose concentration, which was after just a few seconds at first but now I can hold it for several minutes. I have to be in the person’s mindset, though. It sounds weird, but if I’m being Gab and I think something like “Gosh, my brother’s handsome” then—
wham!
—I’m back as Michèle. But if I think “I really need another coffee” I stay as Gab.

I can do Caitlin more easily. I think it’s because she’s a girl so I feel more comfortable as her. It is very creepy being Gab—with his body!!! Even so I’ve never managed to stay as Caitlin for more than five minutes.

Gab can do anyone, even people he doesn’t know personally. Just so long as he knows who they are he can do them: Eminem, that guy out of One Direction, Gandhi (my favorite), Michelle Obama(!) . . .

 

15th January, 2014

I’ve stayed as Caitlin for much longer this morning. Gab had turned into Aiden and somehow that helped me get into character as Caitlin and I managed to keep myself like that for nearly half an hour. I’m mentally exhausted now, though. Gab never gets tired, never finds staying transformed a problem. I thought we were the same as we share the same Gift, but we’re not. I can still only transform into two people—I can’t even do Dad. Gab says it’s early days and that I found my Gift much sooner than he did, but I think his ability is stronger.

• • •

Saw Caitlin today. She dropped a letter off from Sam. I transformed into Caitlin for her and she was horrified. She says she can’t believe her thighs are that big (they’re tiny) and kept staring at her bum. I couldn’t keep my concentration for laughing.

 

17th January, 2014

I’m worried about Gab. I think something’s wrong.

 

18th January, 2014

I don’t know what to do. Things have gone wrong—badly wrong. I can’t understand why it’s happened to Gab because he’s so brilliant at transforming. His Gift is amazing, much stronger than mine. But he’s changed into a fain and now he can’t get back to being the real Gab.

We’ve both been transforming lots—he’s been doing it to try to help me. He turned into a fain, which he’s done many times and he’s been many different fains, but last night he transformed to be one on the inside. His appearance is just the same as always, but inside he’s different—inside he’s a fain. And now he can’t get back.

He says he’ll work it out, but I think he’s really worried. I don’t think he’s slept. He’s been like this for nearly twelve hours now. He’s never kept transformed for more than a day and he’s never been stuck before.

The really worrying thing is that he’s actually asking me how I do it, how I transform! He says that he normally does it almost without thinking but now it feels totally alien. It’s like he really has become a fain!

 

19th January, 2014

Gab is still stuck. He stayed inside last night, which would normally make him ill, but he didn’t have the slightest headache or nausea. He couldn’t sleep because (he admitted) he’s so worried.

I’ve told him to think of the things he, the witch Gabriel, likes or does. He’s gone through his day, washing, eating, climbing up the side of the house, and he’s now told me that it all feels the same only slightly less good, slightly flat. That could be because he’s a fain or because he’s feeling so tired and worried.

Caitlin came round and I told her about Gab. She didn’t see him because he hid in his bedroom and I didn’t want to show him to her as if he was some freak show, not that she would have noticed anything different anyway, as he looks exactly the same as the Black Witch Gabriel.

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