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Doreen, the Teenage Witch

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Doreen wanted to be a witch. Not the polite way of saying the B word, but an honest-to-God-and-Goddess witch. She never missed an episode of Sabrina, the Teenage Witch on TV, and rented Teen Witch, Practical Magic, and The Craft from Blockbuster so many times her mother finally bought them for her. She had loads of books on witchcraft, both from the library and purchased from Barnes & Nobles whenever she saved up enough of her allowance. When her mother first saw the books, she'd patted Doreen on the head and said indulgently, "Into every teenager's life, a little Wicca must fall."

Doreen cut through the neighbor's back yard and climbed over their back fence. It was difficult to do in her broom skirt, but she managed.   Her brown hair was pulled up into an intricate braid and she wore glasses. She was short for her age, skinny, and still had no boobs, much to her dismay. Her mother assured her they would come and then she'd wish she didn't have them. Doreen didn't believe her.  

The witchcraft supplies in her backpack clinked as she made her way across the open field beneath the power lines that ran on the other side of her subdivision. An uncut stand of cattails grew in a large patch near a retention pond. Being careful of the garden spiders that strung their webs between cattails, she walked a trodden path into the stand.

At the center of the stand was her place of power, a circle flattened down by her early in the summer and covered with linoleum squares she'd fished out of the dumpster behind Carpet Tile at the nearby strip mall. She'd found a baker's rack in the caterer's dumpster, which she'd re-purposed into an altar. A wicker broom she'd gotten from the hobby shop rested atop the rack.

Doreen set her backpack on the ground and began unpacking her supplies. Athamé, wand, cutting knife. Herbs, salt, stones, candles. A sacred bowl, water, and oil. Her grimoire and latest book from Barnes & Noble. She moved the broom and draped a red, sheer headscarf she'd found at the thrift store over the altar. She positioned her supplies carefully, then set about sweeping the negative energy from her circle. The broom and backpack went under the baker's rack-cum-altar.

Salt came next, creating a protective space around her. She made sure the salt line was unbroken around the circle. She put one of her rocks at the north end of the circle, to represent earth, a candle to the south for fire, water to the west, and incense to the east. Once set, she asked for the Mother and Father of all to protect her as she worked her magic.

Feeling sufficiently prepared, Doreen opened The Workbook of Endless Delights to one of the pages she'd marked with a sticky note.   The book was filled with spells, some involving sex magic, but she wasn't interested in that darker stuff. A virgin had more power when doing beneficial spellwork, which she preferred.   Today, she was going to cast a spell for a week of sunshine, as they had a family vacation to the beach coming up.   She had to be careful, though, not to be greedy. Too much sunshine meant things wouldn't grow, and she didn't want that. She liked green grass and flowers, and she knew the farmers needed regular rain to grow food.

Of course, it would be easier if she could control magic like Sabrina did, but she hoped, if she continued practicing, she'd be able to do so one day. Until then, Doreen would have to work magic the old fashioned way.  

She picked up her athamé and got to spellcasting.

 

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