The leaf blower sounded loudly, but it was a welcomed distraction for Sarah, who had been reading her grandma’s diary nonstop.
It had been one year since she inherited the big house.
After her separation from Toby, she had lost her enthusiasm. She was a warrior, but she allowed herself to become the victim of her own feelings and desires. Her life had felt empty, pointless. The thought of ending the emptiness had crossed her mind many times. Until that day, an attorney called.
Her grandmother, Claudia had died, and she inherited the estate, the candle store, a considerable amount of money, and the five-bedroom house on one acre of land.
Sarah used to call the small ranch, forty miles from San Diego, “the Middle of Nowhere.” Though a city girl, moving to the country hadn’t been a difficult decision to make.
Sarah looked at the gardeners from the large living room window, smiled and snuggled on the comfortable couch.
“Busy bees,” she whispered and smiled as she closed her eyes, thinking of all that had happened in such a short time.
It all started a few weeks ago as she was shuffling through her grandmother’s belongings stored in the basement. She found a black leather covered book in a small, padlocked box.
Thinking it was her grandma’s secret diary, she began reading, only to discover that the little black book was her grandma’s book of shadows.
The little black book took Sarah on a trip through the world of magic, spells, and rituals. The thought of revenge became loud. She was still in love but hurt. Revenge was all she wanted.
On the next full moon, dressed in a ceremonial robe she found in her grandmother’s belongings, she walked into the basement, whispering.
“You must understand that you cannot treat women like trash. Five years together. Five years of cheating and daily abuse to satisfy your gambling addiction.
I love you, Toby. I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you. But here is where it all ends. There is a thin line between love and hate, and you’ve pushed me over that line. Now you’re going to pay Mr. Toby Jonson.”
She read the ritual one more time, carefully placed the book on the altar, cast the circle of protection and called the corners.
She suddenly realized the book had vanished, and in its place, a blank piece of paper rested. She looked at the paper more closely and saw writing begin to appear. Astounded, she read.
“Remember Sarah, what you put out, you get back threefold. Ask yourself… Is it worth it?”
A shadow across the basement caught her attention. The sheer smoky figure walked closer, holding the little black book. She recognized her grandma, Claudia.
“Don’t be surprised Sarah. Death is only a transition to a higher plane of existence. Nothing truly dies. You’ve been born with the gift. But you’ll need to learn how to use it. Magic is not a weapon, it’s a power that everyone has, but only a few know how to utilize. People refer to it as Karma. But we know: you take back what you put out threefold. My little black book can give you the satisfaction you’re seeking. The question is: is it worth it? Remember, use your gift wisely. Once you cast the spell, there’s no turning back.”
It was late afternoon a few months later. Sarah finished writing another entry in the little black book. Then with a hot cup of tea, she walked towards the couch. On the sound of the telephone ring, she whispers “Toby.”
“Hello” Toby’s voice said on the other end of the receiver, pleading for forgiveness.
“Sarah, please don’t hang up on me. I know I’ve done you wrong. We had to be separated for me to realize how much I love you. I only ask for another chance.”
“Toby, I’ve always been honest with you, and this time is no different. I love you too. But we can’t be together. Goodbye Toby.”
At that moment, she felt free, and as the telephone rang again, she looked at it with a smile. She sat on the couch and whispered.
“It wasn’t worth it. Thank you, Grandma.”
Sarah looks at the gardeners from the large living room window, smiles and snuggles on the comfortable couch.
“Busy bees.” Whispers.
2 thoughts on “SARAH”
Nice short story Dean. That’s a subject that always has my interest. ~Anne J
Thank you Deborah. Within the next a few weeks, I’ll be posting another short story, I titled Corina. You might like it.