They stormed out of the coffee shop with Haley blazing like a train on a railway. Her head practically seemed to emit smoke from her ears, and she was on the verge of punching a wall. Wish simply stood behind her, enveloped in her own anger and the chaos of what had just transpired.
"Hey, bitches."
She stiffened at the sound of his voice from right behind her, but Haley was the only one courageous enough to turn and confront them head-on.
He was likely still drenched in cola from head to toe and seething with fury. Any dream of sharing the same space with him should be abandoned—never to be realized, not after he deemed her appearance so foolish.
"What?"
Tyler scoffed.
"Was your memory erased the moment you became friends with her, so you could forget what she did in school weeks before graduation?"
The atmosphere grew tense, and Wish longed for a place to hide, desperate to escape this ordeal once more. It startled her that he had noticed her, unaware until now, recalling the incident that nearly got her expelled before graduation—the very reason she had clung to Haley rather than her other friends.
"She was cursed afterward. That's why her life is as pathetic as it is, and it will never improve. No one with a brain would want to associate with her again, unless you're eager to share in her bad karma."
"Hey–!"
She spun on her heels to confront Tyler and his friends, who were all assembled at the entrance of Daisy's and Me. Her long, brown hair cascaded like a curtain over her face as she bowed her head low in apology for Haley's behavior towards him inside.
"Wish, what the fuck are you doing?"
"I'm so sorry on her behalf for ruining your dress and drenching you with a drink, Tyler."
Tyler and his friends exchanged snickers of amusement. One even pulled out his phone to capture the moment of their classmate bowing her head so low in an attempt to seek Tyler's forgiveness.
"It won't happen again."
"Of course it shouldn't. And in case you don't know, shameless witches like you don't deserve to live in this world. You belong in hell, along with your voodoo cards and stupid ouija boards," they mocked as they all retreated back inside Daisy's and Me.
"Raise your head," Haley growled in anger when she found her friend still frozen in shame. "I said, raise your head, damn it!"
A sob escaped her as she sank to her knees, her hands tangled in her hair, her face buried in her lap in utter self-disgust. Her mind oscillated between memories of the past and the bleak present, foreseeing a future equally grim. Her world was disintegrating, and she felt too feeble to hold it together.
She wept bitterly, her cries a testament to the pain in her heart. The sensation was like a stabbing in her throat, threatening to choke her to death. At this point, the idea of ending it all no longer seemed frightening.
Exhaustion barely described it. Her life had deteriorated in the weeks leading up to graduation. No drugs could alleviate the anxiety stemming from the terrible mistake that had cost her her livelihood, future, and sanity.
Not a single penny was in her bank account.
No one was willing to employ her, regardless of her qualifications.
She possessed nothing more than two pairs of jeans and an absurdly old, worn-out oversized hoodie.
No number of tears could truly express her despair.
Haley ran her hands through her hair in frustration over her friend's mental collapse.
As people entered Daisy's and Me, casting odd glances their way, Haley, tired of the whispers, pulled her friend to her feet and drove them back home.
The sound of rain could not drown out her cries in her room, which saddened her the most, for it wasn't even her own house. It was clear she was doomed to failure after performing a reading for one of the most popular girls just weeks before graduation.
Who would have guessed that the gorgeous, famous Kiara harbored insecurities—a secret so dark that she trusted her enough to request a reading, hoping to discover if there was indeed a light at the end of her tunnel?
She only spoke the truth, not what Kiara wanted to hear. Later, it appeared in Kiara's suicide note that the grim reading of her future, delivered after the incident, had driven her to leap off the school rooftop, and that she regretted ever asking Wish for a reading that fateful night in the school basement.
That single act of kindness had ultimately ruined her. She should have refused, trusting her gut on that ominous day—a day that felt like a warning from the heavens. Yet, driven by her desperate desire to emerge from obscurity and be recognized, just as other gorgeous, popular girls were idolized like goddesses, she agreed to the reading.
If she delivered the reading to the most popular girl, it might have been her ladder to achieving all she ever desired. Instead, that ladder became a curse—an unbreakable one, regardless of her efforts. Her readings were cursed; her cards were consumed by flames, and the ancestral knowledge of witchcraft, passed down long before World War I, became so murky in her memory that she could no longer recall even the simplest luck spells or basic incantations.
Since then, surviving had become nearly impossible.
All she could rely on were the remnants of her sacred cards, which she resorted to reading in her darkest moments—though they were invariably wrong, driving her ever closer to insanity.
Wish wept throughout the night, tormented by the silent, explicit moans of her best friend and her super-rich musician boyfriend. Though it was considerate of them to accommodate her after graduation, their moans only maddened her, pricking her skin until it hurt. She curled up in a corner of her dark room, where only the sporadic flashes of thunder and lightning revealed her reflection and her bleeding arms.
Every breath they took, and Haley's countless, echoed expressions of release resonated through the walls, deepening her depression—it wasn't the first time she had been forced to endure such torment.
If only she had her own house.
Her own money overflowing in her bank accounts.
A decent job.
A kind boyfriend like Tyler.
And her mastery of spells and card reading would return to her as it once had.
Wish sobbed even harder, drawing her legs closer as she shook and rocked back and forth, while tiny drops of blood from her wrist stained the marble floor of her room.
"I love you…" Haley murmured, deeply immersed in the overwhelming feeling of her world being torn apart by him.
"I love you too," came the deep, husky reply as they began another round—this time more aggressively—and the house soon became too unsafe for her to remain.
She rose to her feet, carefully stepping over shards of broken glass and smashed flower vases strewn across her room's floor.
Outside, the rain continued its relentless downpour as she donned her clothes and her drab hoodie. Disconnecting her phone from the charger, she paused at her room's doorway, where ten fragments of her half-burnt card lay scattered beside her deserted vanity table—a table that held nothing but a small cup and a toothbrush. She leaned over her card, tears glistening in her eyes.
Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to try once more, to see what remnants of her broken future could be salvaged.
She was so exhausted by everything that the thought of death seemed welcome. She despised her appearance, believed she was neither brilliant nor attractive—indeed, perhaps the least appealing girl on the planet. Yet, her art of concocting and assembling elements to make magic happen had once been the sole thing that made sense in her existence.
But now, that gift was ruined by the curse.
She longed to know what the universe might say about the possibility of her living again.
Her bloodied nails fumbled to retrieve a card—the one that appeared to have suffered the least from the flames.
It seemed as though the sky outside approved of her choice, for the rain intensified. The sound of heated breaths and whispered passions escalated, reaching a crescendo.
She paused for a moment before examining the card she had drawn.
Wish was astonished to see that it was the Death card. She stared at it for what felt like an eternity, wondering what change, moment of rebirth, or transformation might lie in store for her.
Yet again, it proved to be a dreadful, inaccurate reading. In despair, she hurled the card into the trash, surrendering completely. Perhaps this was the final push toward liberation that she so desperately sought.
She stepped out of the small mansion in which she was fortunate enough to live, courtesy of her best friend. Her worn, torn shoes soaked up the muddy water as she walked along the lonely, private road leading to their estate. It was dark, and the tall trees flanking the road appeared even darker. No cars passed by, and not a single human was in sight.
She passed another desolate graveyard, pausing and then retreating in confusion—when had that appeared? She had walked this path countless times, and she could swear on her miserable life that there had never been a graveyard here. Or had she simply failed to notice it before?
The sky groaned in protest as she pushed through the dilapidated iron gates. To her surprise, the graveyard was meticulously maintained, every headstone in place. The usual chill one might expect from a graveyard, as described in books about their eerie vibes, was ironically absent from her experience in this unfamiliar territory.
It was perhaps the dumbest decision to explore a graveyard that had seemingly materialized out of nowhere on a stormy night, alone; yet she reasoned that she had nothing to lose if something went awry. The worst that could happen was ending up like the silent, unchanging graves she passed by.
Rows of sleeping coffins, each buried six feet beneath the surface and containing those who believed they had more time, lined her path on both sides.
The most intriguing feature of this remarkable graveyard was a tombstone that stood proud and haunting at its center. It marked the nearest and only unblemished grave, making it all the more eye-catching and thrilling.
She stood before the grave, barely noticing how her bruised wrist had stained the gravel beneath with dark marks. It felt as if angels were singing a haunting chord in her ears, drawing her deeper into the mystery. At the same time, it seemed as if she had stepped into a warmer climate, even though she remained a sodden mess in the midst of the storm.
The golden grave—literally with no name, no birth year, and no date of death—bore only a massive, inverted cross carved into its smooth slab, indelibly imprinted on the headstone.
She paused to wonder what on earth this was all about.
Who would squander so much gold to build a grave for a loved one?
How special or important could that person have been to warrant such a tribute in death? All she was certain of was that the individual couldn't possibly have been as magnificent or significant as a deity to merit such extravagance.
Wish scoffed at the grave once more.
"Do you think you're superior to the other graves simply because you're adorned in gold?"
Silence deepened as she regarded the grave with pure disgust.
They must truly have believed that the deceased was superior to every other soul here to justify such stupidity.
The sudden ring of her phone startled her; she fished it out of her dripping pocket to see Haley's name flashing on the screen, and she answered immediately, turning her back to the grave.
"Oh my god! Did you just wreck your room and leave in this weather?!"
She hadn't even noticed the time as she had paused at the outrageously gilded grave, letting out a weary sigh.
"Where the fuck are you, so we can come get you?! We're driving down the road and are already near Cassie's street. Tell us exactly where you are right now!"
A small, wry smile tugged at her lips. It felt strangely comforting to be casually perched at this very grave she despised the most—perhaps she had interrupted some lovey-dovey moment with her sudden disappearance.
"Nowhere…"
"What the fuck does that even mean, Wish? What is wrong with you? I'm not going to tolerate you running off from me again!"
It was astonishing how protective and possessive her best friend could be—almost as if she had strict parents rather than a bestie and her musician boyfriend.
Wish sighed deeply and said, "Never mind me. I'll be home soon."