Secrets of the Spell Bound

 
The party was full of people drinking and the kitchen was clouded with smoke from what I could see. An hour passed and I felt bored because I wanted to be with Nate right now but lately all he wanted to do was hook up and I actually wanted to just hang out. Kylie was drinking slowly but she was already making out with some guy in a room upstairs. How cliché. I read about parties like these and now my life is weekend after weekend of parties. I don’t even like alcohol. In ninth grade Kylie and this girl Breanne talked me into drinking a half bottle of vodka claiming it would make me smarter. It only made me puke for a while and I told my parents I ate something bad

I walked outside in the yard not feeling the party seen only to be enticed with a couple making out. I ignored them and sat on the steps.

“Look here, it’s little miss perfect!” Said a voice that I knew all too well. That voice belonged to Ashton Cromwell. Everyone calls him Ash though. He was tall and lanky with shaggy brown hair and his face had more pointed features. He was attractive but his whole asshole loner persona was a big turn off. We’ve been in school together since I could remember and he’s always been a little goofy. He used to go around telling everyone he was a wizard when he was a kid. It got so bad he had to go see the counselor at school.

“Go away Ash,” I said.

“Oh come on, Ren!” He said. “Hey, what’s Ren short for? Renee? Na too old. Loren? No too plain. I got it Renata! That’s a good fit for a little pretty one like you!” He said. One would think he had too much to drink when in all reality he loved to annoy me every chance he got. I glared up at him and he leaned over to wear he toward me. With only the dim light to see him I could tell he was looking directly at me. I could hear the lips of the couple smacking as they made out but that didn’t divert my attention from him at all.

“What’s Ash for? A better suited name for you would be Ass,” I shot back. He acted as if he was hurt by that comeback.

“Remember that time in seventh grade when we were lab partners?” He asked in a challenging tone of voice.

“Yea, why?” I asked. We were science partners for one quarter that year and he managed to spill everything we ever had that was liquid and explode a paper mache volcano and get it all over me.

“Just checking your memory. Glad to know you’re all good Little Ren,” He said. He called me Little Ren in seventh grade too because my last name, Lyle, sounds like little in his imagination.

“Goodbye,” I said getting up.
“I’ll be seeing you,” He said.

“I’m sure,” I answered sarcastically and he stood there.

~*~

The next morning I was woken up with Adair banging on my door yelling out my name. When I opened it there stood my sister a little too excited for nine a.m.

“What?” I asked as she shoved a book in my face. She started rambling about these witch stories my mom used to tell us when we were kids and now she was saying their real.

“Adair, calm down. This is probably just some coincidence. Reading fiction books can make believe in unrealistic things,” I assured her.

“No, Ren this is real!” She said and she walked passed me and put the book on my unmade bed that was probably still warm with sleep.

“Okay let’s have a look…” I said giving in so she would leave and I could sleep.
The script inside of the book was all in ink meaning it was handwritten. The front page said: This book belongs to Henrietta Lyle. It was like a diary of some sort. But throughout it were some type of recipes with directions and chants and rituals. My eyes scanned the pages so fast I couldn’t bear to look any long.

“Adair , it’s just a diary now let it be,” I told her and I dismissed it even though deep in my gut I knew it was more than just a diary. It had to be