The wind felt nice... when it wasn’t howling like a banshee. Driving at night is never wise even in the best of circumstances, but in our sh*t show lives it was an unfortunate necessity.
My name is better left in that dinky little f*ckhole about seven hours behind us. Beside me is my best and only friend Sylene. I say friend but we’ve grown into something more akin to sisters. No one else shared our love of nature, the moon, and least of all magick. Our parents were nothing but small petty people trapped in their small petty world with nothing to hope for but another purebred, whitetrash princess, that could only amount to being crowned prom queen.
Just the thought of fucking some dumbass and getting knocked up like every other cheesebrain teenager in nowhere Arkansas made my blood boil. I wanted to be worth more than another baby making dot on a statistic chart. I wanted to be worth something to someone and if I couldn’t have that then I sure as f*ck would make sure my sister would.
Sylene is the kind of person whose heart bled for people she barely knew. If she could love the whole world and have it love her in return she would. She has long brown hair and kind blue eyes. She was the envy of every girl and the target of every guy.
I have to protect her, I always have. I’ll cut any b*tch that tries to touch her. Which is why I kicked the school football star in the balls. He had tried to cop a feel at graduation. Hence the driving away from everything we had ever known. That wasn’t the only reason but the others were too dark to think about on an empty stretch of road in the middle of the night.
If anyone from their hometown ever found them they’d be dead. No question they were being tracked at that very moment by the same b*stards that reinforced sexist traditions on them. In their home town NO ONE leaves, and NO ONE goes against tradition. Their hometown was run by something close to a cult. Women were women and men were men and outsiders were not allowed in.
My knuckles turned white on the steering wheel from just the thought of facing anyone from Salem again. Forced marriages were illegal in the U.S. but so are sex swings and yet people still have them. The ‘police’ in Salem were as much a part of the backwards thinking c*ntsuckers as the rest of the town.
No, we couldn’t go back, but why would we want to? Freedom was something coveted. Only men in Salem had that, but not anymore. We had to put as much distance between us and then as possible and that meant driving with no breaks.
I had to protect Sy, I always do. She was kind, the type of kind that wanted to gain the love of the whole world in one lifetime. While she was warm loving fire I was cold hearted ice. The kind that likes to use logic and honesty to poke plot holes in every ‘honest’ guy’s sob story. She had a pretty round face with sparkling blue eyes and long brown hair. She was older than me by a few months but it didn’t matter, I would always cut any b*tch dumb enough touch her. She was the envy of every girl and the target of every guy.
I had a well paying job as a pageant dressmaker. The truck we were currently driving was a perk of such a job. Everything we owned was kept in the covered and locked truck bed. Thank the gods pageant queens are paranoid about their dresses being stolen or I wouldn’t have been allowed to make that particular upgrade to my truck which was in my name.
Luckily my job also let me protect Sy in a different way. Mess with her I mess with your pageant gear. That particular rumor spread after Queen Vivian had an unforgettable altercation with Sy the last time she won a pageant.
She was claimed Sy was a ‘shallow c*nt sucking twat that f*cked the judges for points’ I knew she was just upset from almost being beaten but I didn’t forget. At the next pageant she entered with Sy there was an unfortunate accident during her talent portion.
Just as she was twirling for the judges the seams on her bodice came undone exposing her lack of a strapless bra. It wasn’t my fault she didn’t have one on it was just a happy accident.
Welllllllll..... happy for me. Needless to say she was disqualified and both girls and guys backed off of Sy. The girls out of fear, and the guys because, well, I guess they enjoyed the strip show.
I’ve never seen so much black eyeliner ruin a perfect spray tan before. It was sweet, and the best part was it couldn’t be traced back to either one of us. Sy was onstage at the time and I didn’t make her dress. I just had access to it when she was having a meltdown about her wig not sticking the way it was supposed to. As soon as she ran out and left that costume unattended I knew exactly what I needed to do.
I didn’t really have a parent. I had a slave driver, jailer, and life draining leech using the alias of my Aunt Dossy. After my parents died all I had was a widowed Aunt that insisted 5 o’clock started at 8am. My father’s family were outsiders, and grandfather was the most unwelcome of them all.
Native Americans were always unwelcome in the ‘unblemished’ town of Salem. My grandfather and his ‘half b*stard’ son more so than most. His business was large and profitable, and the town couldn’t afford to not trade with him.
I hardly remembered him, my father, or my mother. After I was born they were shunned from the community. When I was 8 a fire broke out and they were all trapped inside a factory while I was asleep at home. Custody went to the only one willing to raise a, in my aunt’s words, ‘tainted failure’. I knew they only did it for my inheritance but it was better than being put in the state’s custody. Ever since I was considered a burden on my Aunt and Uncle.
Until he died of heart failure when I was 12. Then it was my turn to earn money. My Aunt didn’t do sh*t and preferred to live off of the wealth of others. I’m pretty sure that she has a stick shoved so far up her a*s that when she sits it scratches her brain for her. At least then she doesn’t have to put the effort into scratching her head with her hand like a normal person. She thought that since I was her ‘problem’ my inheritance money automatically became hers. Unfortunately for her that money was untouchable until I turned 18. And since I turn 18 in 12 days all I have to do I stay away from anyone connected to Salem and my Aunt will rot in the nothingness she has made of her own life.
I already have an independent bank account that she has no access to. And since my sewing skills were sought after the sum has grown significantly. Oh the prices people will pay to look beautiful. Sure I had to give a little to my Aunt each month. But it was a small amount compared to each commission I made.
Each dress was worth over a thousand and crystals cost extra. The only regret I have is not being there to see Aunt Dossy’s face when she realized the financial sinkhole she has put herself into.
Sy’s family wasn’t much better. Three generations of beauty queens that pumped out babies as soon as they turned 18, some even younger. Sy’s mother was 16 when she was born. All that pressure was always piled onto Sy’s shoulders every time pageant season came around. They’d guilt trip and gaslight her until she starved and practiced until she passed out. I couldn’t protect her from them. Not while we were in no position to leave.
I met Sy the summer I turned 13 she was backstage at a pageant it was the first and only time I was entered as a contestant. Vivian was being a b*tch as usual and it was pissing me off. Then she decided to steal Sy’s makeup bag.
I watched her do it but she denied it. No one would believe me and Sy started crying right before it was time to go onstage. I let her use mine and went to my Aunt’s purse were I knew she was keeping a jar of jalapeños, her favorite snack, and since she was in the bathroom at the time it was all too easy to beat the queen at her own game. I poured a bit of the liquid into a lip gloss I had stolen from Vivian during her last tantrum and pumped the applicator a few times to make sure the juice mixed in with the gloss. Then I took the other glosses out of her bag so she could only use the tainted one. I washed my hands after and joined the others before they went on stage.
Since Viv never applied her own makeup I knew there was no way she wouldn’t go on stage without it on. She took 5 steps onto the stage and started screaming bloody murder. She wobbled around clawing at her lips and screeching at anyone that came close.
It... was.... glorious. No one on stage could contain their laughter and the pageant was effectively cancelled after her parents threatened to sue.
No one knew that it was me, not even Sy, but after that she started talking to me. I guess I was the only one willing. Child pageants are tough competition, you win or you lose and no one wants to lose.
Over time we grew closer and closer until we were inseparable.
That was when we discovered magic. Magic started as a joke between us. A dewy dream we liked retreating into to escape our sh*t show reality. It started with little spells here and there good luck charms or anxiety banishing spells to calm the nerves. It grew into a fantastical magical trust between two sisters that no one else could understand.
We never told anyone about this naturally because the South was ruled by bigots, but we never needed anyone else to feel like what we were doing was right.
Every Sabbath we would go out into the woods and have a coven meeting. Technically you need three to make a coven but I lost my binoculars so I couldn’t search for a f*ck to give. I was Sy’s encouragement and support system and she was the kindhearted optimist that took the edge off my honesty.
Reminiscing on the past is dangerous now that we are fighting to keep it behind us, but remembering is the easiest way to stay awake.
As twilight turned to dusk I sighed in relief. After some time the sun started its lazy ascent into the sky.
That meant one good thing, time for me to crash into the world of dreams. I stopped at a 24hr gas station and parked at the closest pump. Sy was still asleep on my shoulder and I had to gently lean her head back so she could continue sleeping while I got out to pay for the gas.
When I got back I shook her awake.
“Mmmmmmmh,”She mumbled sleepily and I told her it was time to switch.
“Nooooooooooooo five more minutes,” she turned her head further into the seat trying to avoid the brightening sunlight all around us.
“No Sy if I drive anymore I will crash and if I crash and you survive they’ll drag you back without me,” this made her jump up suddenly though her eyes still drooped with sleep.
Once we both had a chance to use the restroom and grab snacks we were back on the road this time with Sy driving and me sleeping like the dead.
I was somewhere unfamiliar, and there was smoke everywhere. I could only see a patch of black and a glowing patch of purple.
My crusty eyes cracked open as I heard the truck door slam shut. I rubbed the dried gunk away and stretched my tired bones out as much as I could.
It was night again and we were once again surrounded by trees. The rest of the road was desolate except for the dimly lit gas station we were currently under.
Wordlessly Sy handed me a drink and a bag of gummy bears, the only sustenance I needed for a long night ahead. I got out to use the bathroom and after that we were once again on the road.
“Do you think we can really pull this off,” Sy said quietly
“Depends” I replied quickly,
“On?,” she quipped, she turned her head towards me with a single eyebrow quirked.
“Our determination to live,” we were silent after that.
I was focusing on the road ahead, while she was lost in her own thoughts trying to nod off.
We drove in that silence for about four more hours in peace.
I’ve set the stage for the sh*t show that has become our lives. Now let’s witness the play will be performed.
I was driving calmly, but something was wrong. The hairs on my neck stood up, and I could feel something was off. I couldn’t tell what that something was. Until I saw something big and brown lying in the middle of the road.