Willow Grumman's Story

Willow

The smell of something burning hit her nose like a ton of bricks, making her sit up abruptly in bed.

"Oh crap, Granny's trying to cook again!" she leapt from the bed wearing only a large t-shirt and a pair pink flowered boxer shorts.

She swiftly slid down the stairs banister, "Granny!" she made a dash into the doorway of the kitchen.

Maury, Granny's tiger was laying under the kitchen table like any old house cat would, Granny turned around with a skillet in her hand and big grin on her face.

"Oh good morning Willow would you like some breakfast?" the skillet in her hand had smoke wafting from the now burnt beyond recognition food.

Willow rubbed the bridge of her nose, "Granny... what are you doing?" she sighed in exasperation.

"Oh well.. I tried to cook up some pineapple." Granny looked sadly at the burnt mass in her pan.

"Graaaannny you can't fry up pineapple like bacon and once it gets to the point where you set off the smoke detector it's pretty much inedible.... Wait what else did you put in there?", there was a strong smell coming from the burnt food that made Willow's eye well up.

Granny's eyes thinned into slits as smiled really big, "Oh you noticed, I decided to throw some Brussels sprouts in there for extra vitamins."

Willow swallowed at the thought of eating such a combination, honestly she didn't know sometimes how she had been able to survive to the age of sixteen with her grandmother's idea's for food concoctions. Perhaps she just learned at a young age she was better off eating a bowl of cold cereal. After a bit of clean up and the disposal of another new skillet. Willow got dressed and and decided to go out and spend some time down town.

It was Spring Break after all so why not enjoy it, after Granny was settled on the couch with some of the cats, Maury and her knitting, Willow headed out the door. It was a pretty decent spring day but still a little on the chilly side it made Willow appreciate the fact that she typically wore a hoody. It took her a little while to walk since Granny's cottage was really close to the forest.

"Maaan I can't wait till Granny gets the Vac's tank refilled." when she stepped into down town she knew where her first stop would be.

She walked into "El Ray's Tacoria" walking up to the counter she gave Ray a big smile. Ray was Minotaur he wore a loin cloth, with a polo shirt that clearly was too small for him. Accompanied by a red apron and a red trucker hat that was emblazoned with a cartoon taco in a wrestling mask.

"Hey Ray can I get a churro to go, Granny tried to feed me burnt pineapple and brussels sprouts?" Willow started to dig through her pockets.

A breath a steam escaped around the ring Ray's nose, his hooves clacked on the floor behind the counter as he headed back to get Willow's order. As she stood there waiting on her order she looked around at the decor of the restaurant. There was an ironic black velvet painting of a matador that hung on one of the walls that always made Willow internally giggle a bit. Her thoughts were brought back to food when she heard the clack of hooves once again.

"Here's your order Willow. I'm pretty glad your grandmother stinks at cooking. You're one of my best customers.", said Ray in a thick Spanish accent.

He handed her the churro that was wrapped neatly in wax paper, "I'm just glad I got in here today before the lunch rush, anyway thanks again I'll see you later Ray." she took a bite as she headed out the door, her next stop was the book store to see if they had anything new in the spell book section. By the time she made it to the door of the store her churro was no more, pushing open the door there was a ring of bells as the door opened.

"Hey Mr. and Mrs. Crabapple." she said with a smile and half hearted wave at the old couple. Mrs. Crabapple smiled at Willow, as her clock husband glared. Willow knew that Mr. Crabapple was always a little on the cranky side, and she couldn't help but think he might be a little less moody if someone set his time back a few hundred years.

Willow started going up and down isles of old dusty books, turning a corner she noticed a girl from school. It almost made her stop in her tracks, but she managed to not appear too awkward and detoured to another isle. However that wasn't much better, cause she ran right into a guy that was looking through books as well.

"Oh crap I'm sorry." she said then she realized who it was. "Oh no it's Cassius...", she said in her head.

C a s s i u s

Running fingers over each title, I scanned for satires that weren't nonsensical like Naked Lunch – written by someone who was constantly high or insane. Gnawing on my bottom lip, I attempted to recall what I had and hadn't already read before realizing my lovely phone, dubbed Nexy, entailed a wonderful list of books I want to hoard. I cackled to myself tapping through my phone for the list and restarted my search for reading material once more.

With my focus narrowed down to the different titles, I didn't notice I was plowed into; until I was staring at the musty ceiling and books were falling from their haphazard stacks. Heart pounding, I blocked my vulnerable face from the impact of hardcover books that could kill. After a few moments, I realized my life wasn't endangered, peeking through my fingers I saw something out of fantasy novels or my life. The displaced books hung in midair. I always forget magic is a tool I could use to make living easier, so the only time I actually use it is on accident. Woops.

I sighed in relief and laid on the floor for a few seconds before imagining hands pushing the books back into piles. Disembodied hands flickered out of existence. God do they creep me out. I have nightmares about disembodied hands attacking me. I shuddered and up-righted myself, noticing the plower overer to be the lovely, uh...I know her name...damn...she's the one with the grandma, yeah! And the pineapples! I mentally patted myself on the back and grinned at the female. “Dude, no harm no foul,” I replied to her apology. Belatedly added “Willow!” to the end of the refutation to her apology, gives me ethos for remembering names and blah blah blah.

Okay, what do mutual student going acquaintances say to each other when one literally bumps into the other....come on brain don't be awkwarder... “Soo, how's your break been going?” I asked, running fingers through my hair. My fingers got caught in a knot, so appropriately, I flailed a little. I need a haircut or a hair tie.

Willow

It was almost like everything went in slow motion, the books flying, Cassius being practically quarterbacked to the floor. There was a swirl of magic, as the books were kept from landing on top of him and burying him along with the impact. It didn't startle Willow, that was a common startle reaction for witches. However that didn't make her feel any better for plowing him down, she stood there wide eyed 'a deer in the headlights' expression as she watched the scene unfold.

"Dammit! Willow don't just stand there looking like an idiot! Say something!", she mentally screamed at herself.

As he righted himself once he realized it was just a clumsy girl and not a crazed mass murderer on a rampage. She could see his lips moving, but all she could manage to really understand was "Willow!".

"Oh Gods.... he really knows my name?", the thought finally pulled her out of her mental funk enough to hear him ask how her break had been.

She swallowed as a streak of red started to cross her cheeks, "Uuuummm yeah..." she had to pull herself together.

With a look down at her feet instead of at the cute move he made with running his hand through his hair, she could feel her anxiety drop... a little.

"O..o...other than m...m..my Grandmother's frightening food concoctions it's been, pretty n..n..nice. Nnn..no school ttt...to worry about looking like an idiot...is...refreshing..." "Wait... what the hell did I just say... Gods I sound like a dork."

She managed to glance back up at him again, "Still...I am really sorry... I'm... just a huge clutz.... and I totally didn't mean to like.... tackle you."

Willow tucked a random piece of her fly away hair behind her ear, then pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose righting them on her eyes. She couldn't believe she was actually talking to him, and that he was actually talking to her. She had known him, or well known of him since they were young. But she had always been the type as a child to be chased away crying by bullies, or to stay hidden from other people so she didn't get teased. However as a young girl grows and starts noticing... or being attracted to others. Cassius had always sort of stood out to Willow all through junior high, but especially in high school, she had just never mustered up the courage to actually say something to him. She had spent years telling herself that he wasn't even aware of her existence. So the fact that he knew her name came as kind of a shock.

"S...s..so, you come to Crabapple's allot?", she asked feeling like there had been a long awkward pause when it had actually only been a few seconds since she had apologized for the second time. Even though she knew the answer to this question, she had seen Cassius sitting somewhere reading for years. While everyone else buzzed around, he was typically somewhere reading something. With Crabapple's being a book store and one with a menagerie of titles and genre's some being quite old it would be safe to assume, that someone that read allot would at least come into Crabapple's once or twice.

She herself read allot, granted she typically did more skimming then actual buying in this store, she always loved coming in finding a corner and reading something. The smell of the old books, was always welcoming to Willow but it was more of a treat for herself than a regular occurrence for her to come into the old couples store. Maybe he frequented the store more often then she did, needless to say she had never bumped into him before in here.

Asmodeus

The air of this town never changes, it always has that strange aura to it. No matter what time of year it was, you always knew you were in here just by smelling the air. I am certainly glad these places exist, out of human cognition. This hidden world of ours seems to grow ever more hidden by the looks of it. Showing your true colours without being screamed at or chased with pitchforks is a refreshing change from the past.

As i stroll downtown i spot a familiar store: Crabapple's. The bookstore everyone knows and loves, filled with books of lost magicks and secrets. The owners are a perfect example of a strange couple. I used to go there, read all those stories they wrote about us, about our existence. Books, books keep me sane on the flow of time. Being alive for this long makes you forget important revelations about yourself. I read books just to stay aware of the current time period.

The Crabapples are a friendly bunch, even if they realize my nature. It's not my fault that i live the high life with them, my siblings, some of which have their presence even in this neck of the woods. I feel like reading again, so i proceed to enter the store. I recieve a cheerful greeting from the missus, and i respond to her with a tender gesture. The smell of printing paper fills my lungs. I proceed to walk towards the adult section of the store, but can't help but notice the round form of a woman somewhere amongst the rows of shelves. I backtrack and witness her talking to someone on the floor. I can't help but snicker at the sight of that peach-shaped beauty, but i regain my thoughts soon, as i see the books she dropped. Spellbooks, a witch from the looks of it, not even a mature one. I do remember the last time i publicly approached teenagers, it was not fun explaining that to the police. I proceed to read some adult books while keeping an eye on the situation. Who knows, maybe she might turn out to be an alluring acquaintance.

C a s s i u s

I nodded sagely, listening to Willow's stuttering and stumbling about grandmother-made food and school worries, no pressures, um, appearances. Yeah. That. At a teenagers' stage of development, they have an imaginary audience that jeers and criticizes their every move, but in all reality it is in fact imaginary. Most teenagers are too worried about their own appearances to pelt other teens with insults. Ah the joys of Psych 101 at community college, giving me logic and labels for adolescent troubles. Okay okay, focus on what the person is saying. Focus.

Oh, she's apologizing again. "Still...I am really sorry... I'm... just a huge clutz.... and I totally didn't mean to like.... tackle you." While she fidgeted and adjusted her glasses, I wondered why she was nervous. It's not as though I was a hulking Godzilla about to swallow her whole. Gross. Cannibalism. Well, it would be cannibalism if I was Godzilla, but still gross.

"Not a problem, dear. I mean I've had my fair share of running into people and walls and a tree one time...Although, I'm pretty sure the tree moved so that doesn't really count does it?" I trailed off, pensively reminiscing. Nature doesn't like me as much as I like it. Probably because I set the lake on fire on accident -- stressing the on accident part -- but none of the lake people seem to want to forgive and forget. Whatever.

"S...s..so, you come to Crabapple's allot?" the teenager inquired looking positively uncomfortable. I had that effect on people, so I shrugged it off mentally.

"I come around once in a while, mostly when my hoard of books run...ah what's the word...dry! Yeah, that," I rambled before sneezing; eyes watered. Ugh, I hated allergies and dust. Especially dust mites, those creepy gross looking microscopic demons. "Plus Mrs. Crabapple gives me twenty percent off on my books. She's a sweetheart," I belatedly added.

A chill ran through me even though I worn my comfortable, cornflower blue sweater. The old store probably had a draft, but no, the chill wasn't from a sudden drop in Fahrenheit. It was a more creeper-alert-be-wary chill. "Ever get that weird feeling you're being watch?" I asked this clichéd phrase, glancing around in paranoia. You can never be too young to be paranoid.

C a s s i u s

I didn't pay much attention to the population growth within the musty store until I heard the sweet shrills coming from the front of the store. I whirled around and grinned broadly at Willow, hair flopping into my face to obscure my perfect vision. “Welp, I hear the delightful screeching of my arch nemesis so I'm off to go piss him off some more!” I bid my goodbyes to the fellow teenager witch, completely dismissing the chilling sensation experienced moments ago into the “random things that don't make sense but are probably due to adolescent magic being haywire” pile.

Spinning on my worn heels, I snatched the cheap but interest-quipping novel (not that cheap isn't also a wonderful quality for a book to have, but I digress) from the shelf it resettled itself upon when my momentary romp with the wooden, scuffed floorboards. The torn cover seduced me with it's block font and blindingly yellow everything. So, logically, I stopped walking, leaned against a conveniently placed bookcase, and flipped through the pages. Quickly stumbling over the words that were in English but seemed like a different version of English only spoken on Jupiter, my face contoured into a mixed look of horror, amusement, and confusion. My eyes, which were a lovely shade of dark brown if you wanted to know, narrowed in sudden determination to finish this potentially convoluted novel and cause other people suffering along the way.

Rubbing my closed eyes because rubbing open eyes would hurt obviously, I meandered my way over to the cash register, which was maned by the lovely Sal, a calm, shy faun who was all frazzled up by the shouting of my favorite person in the world. The last time I encountered my favorite person in the world, he ended up slapping me with the strength of a butterfly until I started rolling around on the forest floor laughing my guts out. Which, in turn, caused him to stomp away in a huff.

“Sal! How's my favorite cashier doing and my lovely friend Leo?” I smiled my dazzling dimpled smile that made me look more goofy than usual while slinging an arm over Leo's damp T-shirt giving him a friendly squeeze.

“Went for a quick swim, huh? Welp now you've ruined your lovely shirt. Hope it wasn't expensive,” I smirked at the short goat-man, who on closer inspection was flushed with fury. Eh, self-preservation is for losers and those who get more than three hours of sleep but that's besides the point.

“Al-alright, well other than running into that pole....oh! Did you want to purchase something? Or do you need help looking for a book?” the faun inquired before adjusting his over-sized glasses.

I handed him the book, Naked Lunch, and replied “Nah I got this place mapped out on the back of my hand, just wanted to procure this book.”