Honestly Part 1
:'D I really hope you like this guys. 1 Hour on making this.... It was tough. I worked hard on the second part, too, so stay tuned for that I guess.
"Yah Wizards Yer Kiddos Talkin' 'Bout Ain't Real. Yer imaginary dreams and such ain't real." My mom's recording rung in my years. 3 Years of believing in wizards-- study books and fake magic sets toppled over my bed. The man speaking in the recording had a thick accent, a one where you couldn't make out his words that well. My mom said she went to a documentary area across the block and got this for me-- trying to prove wizards aren't real. Sorry, I haven't introduced myself. I'm Miranda, a tall blond with sea-blue twinkling eyes. I'm sixteen and single and straight. I called up my mom, and after a while, she finally picked up after I almost lost hope and shut the phone on her.
"Hello?" She spoke into the phone on the other end.
"Hey, Mom." I said in almost a scream over the traffic outside and with the window open, it was hard to hear her.
"Oh, dear, don't shout. I have you on speaker phone in Spears getting my glasses repaired." She said.
"Sorry, Mom. I have a question..." I said in something lower than a whisper, but then burst out with giggles.
"Wait; did you get my, "Ain't no one gonna believe yeh." message?" She asked me.
I shuddered. AS IF it's important. "Yea," I began. "It's about that. Stop bothering me about wizards, mother!" I demanded.
"Hun, you can't hear, see, or be with them. You need a therapist..." She breathed heavily. Why couldn't hear mother just calm down?
"But wizards; there real; I had a dream about a man with blond shaggy hair and blue eyes; like yours and mine." I said.
She hung up and the next thing I knew she was standing next to me. "Miranda, honestly, you need some help..."
She grabbed my arm. "And the truth." She muttered under her breathe. I stood up and she gestured towards the kitchen; a sound-proof room. I sat down and she began to talk so fast:
"Your father Miranda, that was him. A trusty wizard, indeed, that everyone lived up to. He was a brave man but died"-- she shuddered-- "In a horrible death with a dead man... horrible... possessing bodies as if a hobby. Rumor? Oh, the rumor was indeed, 'That man begged for mercy at my feet. He had one last sentence before a hatred death: 'Sir, no, don't do this ! I can serve you, sir, make your life easier... it can all happen in a snap... but don't... just don't kill me....'" My mother said in a low voice. "No such thing happened! Thats why we do not speak of You-Know-Who in this household. That man was a good man when we met... nice and respectful. He offered us dinner and said he had a "buisness" call, about there company Clean N Fresh; best shampoo market around. Instead in a cold dark alley, he said these words: 'Daniel Krocet, I can't believe you! All of that nonsense spoken, done, and of course, you think I'm okay with it? DANIEL HANSEN KROCET, YOU WILL REGRET EVERYTHING!' And I saw it all out the window..." she whipped her eye with a napkin-- "And now He-Who-Shall-Never-Be-Named still lerks these allys-- in your fathers body-- finding a 'better one' he says...." I was puzzled with a million questions, but only 1 I blurted out:
"I'm a wizard...?"
"Hello?" She spoke into the phone on the other end.
"Hey, Mom." I said in almost a scream over the traffic outside and with the window open, it was hard to hear her.
"Oh, dear, don't shout. I have you on speaker phone in Spears getting my glasses repaired." She said.
"Sorry, Mom. I have a question..." I said in something lower than a whisper, but then burst out with giggles.
"Wait; did you get my, "Ain't no one gonna believe yeh." message?" She asked me.
I shuddered. AS IF it's important. "Yea," I began. "It's about that. Stop bothering me about wizards, mother!" I demanded.
"Hun, you can't hear, see, or be with them. You need a therapist..." She breathed heavily. Why couldn't hear mother just calm down?
"But wizards; there real; I had a dream about a man with blond shaggy hair and blue eyes; like yours and mine." I said.
She hung up and the next thing I knew she was standing next to me. "Miranda, honestly, you need some help..."
She grabbed my arm. "And the truth." She muttered under her breathe. I stood up and she gestured towards the kitchen; a sound-proof room. I sat down and she began to talk so fast:
"Your father Miranda, that was him. A trusty wizard, indeed, that everyone lived up to. He was a brave man but died"-- she shuddered-- "In a horrible death with a dead man... horrible... possessing bodies as if a hobby. Rumor? Oh, the rumor was indeed, 'That man begged for mercy at my feet. He had one last sentence before a hatred death: 'Sir, no, don't do this ! I can serve you, sir, make your life easier... it can all happen in a snap... but don't... just don't kill me....'" My mother said in a low voice. "No such thing happened! Thats why we do not speak of You-Know-Who in this household. That man was a good man when we met... nice and respectful. He offered us dinner and said he had a "buisness" call, about there company Clean N Fresh; best shampoo market around. Instead in a cold dark alley, he said these words: 'Daniel Krocet, I can't believe you! All of that nonsense spoken, done, and of course, you think I'm okay with it? DANIEL HANSEN KROCET, YOU WILL REGRET EVERYTHING!' And I saw it all out the window..." she whipped her eye with a napkin-- "And now He-Who-Shall-Never-Be-Named still lerks these allys-- in your fathers body-- finding a 'better one' he says...." I was puzzled with a million questions, but only 1 I blurted out:
"I'm a wizard...?"
3 Comments
good
i want to read more of them it is very good!! :)
Epic story. :) Keep on writing!