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Handbook For Mortals [Fan Edit]

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Summary

The chapter was taken as separate screenshots and converted to text in OCR to do a fan chapter rewrite of the infamous book Handbook for mortals. The original is on amazon with the original preview of the book. I cut out text LOTS of text and cringy dialogue and rewritten some parts. This project was just for fun only. All rights go to the author Lani Sarem and their publishers.

Genre:
Adventure / Mystery
Author:
Kieth94
Status:
Complete
Chapters:
1
Rating:
n/a
Age Rating:
13+

Chapter 0 - The Fool

I’ve always resented those who live normal lives. I don’t think I ever had a normal month or a day. There are brief moments from time to time.

Some days tend to be a few and far away from each other. I’m sure most people would trade places with me in a heartbeat.

In those moments of being ordinary feels like a breeze on a hot summer day or a breath of fresh air after holding your breath below the surface.

Sometimes we can’t always get what we want. The grass is greener when it’s AstroTurf fake, brittle, and motionless. I’m sure it can be greener when you reach the other side even though life is crazy or a bit strange.

If I did, then it would take completely too long to read aloud. So instead I will start on the day I left back home.

It was the day that marked a turning point for me. I knew I had to make a choice but do not know what it truly is. Once the choice is made, I couldn’t go back and try it again.

I personally believe some things in life are chosen by fate. You have options in most circumstances, but certain paths you have no other choice but go over. No matter what you do you can’t seem to make it work out? You fight, kick, and scream but you end up exactly where you are.

Long ago my ancestors established a little town called Centertown, Tennessee. It’s about an hour or so outside of Nashville and smack dab in the middle of the country. Legends say it was a capital before Andrew Jackson decided to move the capital to Nashville. I’m not really sure if that’s true or not but it makes the people who live there really proud. There my mother works as a card reader and a spell wheel.

People come near and far from all over the country to see her when people are depressed or desperate for the most part. Religious folk believes that people like my mother comes from the Devil. These hypocritical, stuck-up little bible thumpers are the same people who come and see my mother when things in their lives get poor.

I sit there in the other room downstairs during my mother’s reading sessions with my worn-out sneakers that makes a tapping noise on each step. Just got the laces replaced but at least got them shined on the toes. Tugging my phone out of my favorite skinny jeans that are dark denims ripped in a cool fashion to check my text messages from friends. Later putting my phone on the table in order to fix my flowery tank top that I wear during hanging out with my mother. I wish I had taken a picture at that point It would’ve produced a cool-looking selfie for my Instagram.

The house where I live is old and four stories tall. It’s made of wood with large framed-glass panes. The paint is slightly faded and cracking in a few places due to the blazing humid weather during the summer months. The picket fence around the house gives it an archaic Southern look. Nothing that special or grand but very reminiscent of that old movie Gone With The Wind.

I put my multi-dyed hair in a bun the best as I could. People tell me I am pretty all along. When I glance at the mirror, I do not see it. I’m an odd but quite average looking girl. I have exceptionally long legs with thighs that are too big.

My arms are kind of flabby and while I do have an hourglass shape my butt is a little too large and my face is a bit too round. Maybe people are just trying to be nice. In a small town where everyone looks like they fell out of an episode of Beverly Hillbillies, I think I look exceptional. I’m a determined free spirit who likes to live and wander free.

I turn around right when my mother Dela is coming down the stairs. She was done with that day’s reading sessions with her clients surprising me with a jar of crisp new 20-dollar bills. She is generous to hand me a few of her tips to take.

She never seems like she is in a hurry or running here and there but always very bubbly. She and I have always been an exact clone of each other. There is something about her that says, “old soul.” She says that means we’ve lived many lives. But I have never lived or experienced life on my own.

That’s what I’m trying to do…just live. I took a deep breath and decided to ask her a genuine question.

“Mom what would you like me to do?” “Stay home, read cards, and share tips with you for the rest of my life?” My mother replies in a bubbly matter disregarding her own daughter’s worry. “Come on Zade I thought you would like to share tips and reading tarot cards with me.” “It was our favorite activity since you were 9 years old.”

Holding my will to reply I pull out my packed bags from the hall with their bold patterns. As I start loading up the car hardly getting the bags fitting. She was right. A part of my childhood was in that place and watching over her. It was heartwarming. As much as I was not accepted by my Mother’s friends and book club in the town. I knew I still belonged. My mom and I enlightened some people teaching them to understand that not everything the world brought up about us was true. I knew that even if I stayed, I would regret it for the rest of my life. I must do something more. While those thoughts circulated through my mind, my eyes caught a part of the concrete driveway that had been repaved when I was 6 years old. I wrote my name into the wet cement with my little finger when my Dad caught me in the scene of the crime while the workers were drying the concrete up. Due to my dyslexia, I have got to learn in school to read and write backward. It was not till 7th grade I could begin writing the proper way without much thought.

Since 13 she quoted one of Dr. Seuss’s famous sayings thousands of times it was fricking annoying. “Why try to fit in, when you were born to stand out?” I always retorted jokingly, “Why would I want to stand out? People who stand out get oranges thrown at them. People who stand out get called names and shoved into lockers.

After a couple of moments of waiting, she finally asks “What do you see yourself doing instead of a tarot reading?” She requests with a tone of her voice like she already knew (Of course she knows cause she’s actually a sorceress).

“Uhm I have an audition,” I muttered quietly hoping she didn’t hear me. There was a long pause as the wind rustles through my hair while I waited for her to respond. “You’re going to audition for that show, are you?” she asks like she already knows the following question. I couldn’t tell if she was asking me or announcing it out loud. I took one deep breath and spun around to see her with her jar of tips under her arm.

“Yeah, Mom it was a position for an assistant magician.” “I even showed you the craigslist ad on my phone.” “Didn’t you read my email?’ My eyes narrow as I confront the email situation. Just bought her an iPhone a few weeks ago which she is more old school when it comes to the new technology.

I wanted her to know that I wasn’t the naïve little girl I had been when I was at an earlier age. When you younger your parents are the ones who make decisions for you. Even though their hearts were in the right place sometimes they can get a little too interested.

“I wanted to look out for you don’t like to see you get hurt.” “The world is full of crazy people, Warlocks desperate for your Magik, and thugs!’ “And you’re only a kid.” My anger internally starts building up and parts of me wanted to walk up and slap my mother in the face. But I took a deep breath since she is family.

“I know you’ve sacrificed your life and Dad’s to protect my soul.” “I know you’ve been there for most of my life.” “But that position is calling out to me and I need to use my talents.” “And I’m 26 by the way.”

She runs to where I am dropping her jar and grabs me tightly and hugs me. She was still holding back her tears “I know, and I love you.” She kisses me on the forehead.

I close my eyes and hug her back fiercely before whispering, “I love you, too.” I jumped into my car, fastening my seatbelt, and start backing out of the driveway.

I turned the radio on right after I threw my car in drive and the most appropriate song came blasting through the speakers of my car. It was the opening lyrics to the Dixie Chicks’ song “Wide Open Spaces.” I could not help but laugh at how true it was at this moment in time. I took it as a sign I was doing the right thing. As I am driving on the highway I sang along to the song.

Who doesn’t know what I’m talking about/ Who’s never left home/who’s never struck out To find a dream and a life of their own/ A place in the clouds,/ a foundation of stone/ Many precede and many will follow/ A young girl’s dreams no longer hollow/ It takes the shape of a place out west

But what it holds for her/, she hasn’t yet guessed She needs wide open spaces /Room to make her big mistakes She needs new faces /She knows the high stakes

Truer words have never been spoken. As I head out on my own Wide-open spaces towards the west. The “high stakes” was heaven sent as I head towards Las Vegas Nevada. I had a long journey ahead of me and an even longer trip as soon as I got there. But in that $50 position I know what I have to do no questions asked.

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