Witches Aren’t Real
by Gabriella Balcom
The witch swooped to the right on her broom, darted left, then rocketed straight upward, her robe flapping in the wind.
Six-year-old LaShelle giggled, eyes sparkling as she watched from the ground below. But when the figure above her abruptly jerked, hurtled downward, and crashed into the branches of a tree, she burst into tears.
“Don’t cry, sweetie,” Mama soothed. “I’m sure your kite’s fine. It’ll be easy to get down.” She shifted the sleeping baby in her arms before turning to her thirteen-year-old son. “Devin, will you go up and get it, please?”
Engrossed in a game on his phone, he didn’t reply.
“I want my kite,” LaShelle wailed, stomping her feet.
“Heck!” Devin looked up from his cell, glaring at his little sister. “I lost because of you and your stupid whining. All you do is whine about crashing that ugly kite.”
“My kite isn’t ugly,” she retorted, her bottom lip trembling. “It’s beautiful!”
“It’s a nasty, old witch,” he taunted. “Witches are stupid. They aren’t even real.”
“Stop being mean,” Mom interjected, frowning at him. “Her kite is just as nice as yours, and she didn’t crash it on purpose. You know how gusty the wind has been.”
Devin snorted but climbed the tree, recovering the witch in a matter of minutes. “She is just going to get it stuck again,” he complained after LaShelle skipped away with her kite. “It should’ve been mine anyway, not hers. I asked for it first.”
“Yes, you did but you decided to get the dragon instead, remember? I know you’re upset it broke but that’s not your sister’s fault. Yours can be fixed. We just need some materials from the store.”
Three hours later
Devin grinned after beating another level on his game but his eyes widened when he realized the sky was darkening. He’d completely lost track of time. Mom had given him permission to stay in the park when she and the rest of the family left but he was supposed to have been back by now. Knowing he was in trouble—big trouble—he hurried down the road toward home.
A dog barked in the distance but he ignored it, breaking into a run. But when he heard a cracking noise from nearby, he nearly stumbled and froze, looking around. It sounded as if someone had stepped on a stick, and he wondered if one of his friends who lived in the area was trying to scare him.
“I know you’re there,” he called. “Come on out.”
Cackling laughter rang out from all around him. He heard a whooshing sound, and looked up to see a witch flying toward him on a broomstick.
Devin snickered at first but got a better look, and his mouth fell open. “Y—you’re not a kite!” he exclaimed, backing away.
“No, I’m not,” the witch crowed. “I’m quite real. And you’re perfect!” She grabbed him by his arm, tossed him over her broom, and zoomed away.
Gabriella Balcom lives in Texas with her family. She loves reading and writing, and thinks she was born with a book in her hands. She works in the mental health field, and writes fantasy, horror, sci-fi, romance, literary fiction, children’s stories, and more. Over 200 of her works have been published or pend publication with several publishers. Her first book, On the Wings of Ideas, came out recently, and she has another novella pending publication by Black Hare Press.
She likes traveling, music, good shows, photography, history, genealogy, interesting tales, and animals. Gabriella says she’s a sucker for a great story and loves forests, mountains, and back roads which might lead who knows where. She has a weakness for lasagna, garlic bread, tacos, cheese, and chocolate but not necessarily in that order, and she loves Mexican, Chinese, and Italian food.