Only the Good Survive
By Caitlin Sayce, age 11

Jake ran away from me. He stumbled, gave me a piercing state then ran on. I knew he'd never believe me again. I knew he'd never trust me again. I knew he would never come near me again, let alone share my magic. I knew that he'd never even look at me again, because I was a witch.

I found out about my powers when I was six. I'd just come back from school, and was sitting by the fire with my grandmother.

"Grandma" I said, watching the crackling fire. "Yes, my shining star?" She called me that because my real name, Esperanza, was Mexican for hope. She said I was like the shining star of hope at the dark end of a tunnel. My mother was Mexican, and Grandma was too.

"Josephine, a girl in my class, has a funny glow around her."

"A glow? What sort of glow? Does everyone have a glow?" Grandma asked me if everyone had a glow because she knew I saw things, she knew that the glow was, an aura.

"Josephine's glow is a dark muddy purple. It's a bad colour. You have glow, Grandma. Everyone does. Yours is a nice, happy, yellow glow. It's what makes people like you. Can't you see it?

"No, I can't. Tell me, what colour is your glow?"

"My glow is a pink glow. That means I am happy and friendly. But sometimes it goes a muddy colour, like when I'm not happy. How come you can't see it?"

"Anza, you have a power. Not many people have that power, and some don't like it. You can do great things with that power, if you wish. But you must keep it a secret. You got that from your mother. If only she was here.." She broke off, thinking. I knew enough then to keep quiet. My mother and father were on their way back from a party when I was a baby while Grandma was looking after me, and had been involved in a terrible car crash. They were both killed instantly. My grandmother was not the sort of person who would ever lie to me, I always knew.

"You must promise me something, Esperanza. Never give up to the dark side. Keep your intentions good, and no harm will ever come to you. Only the good survive"

Eight years later and I hadn't told a soul. Until I met Jake. My powers were more advanced by then, not only could I read peoples auras but I could change them, and sometimes had premonitions in my dreams. I could also do a few simple spells.

I first saw Jake when he entered my classroom on a hazy, autumn afternoon. Mrs Coldstein introduced him as Jake Parton, and told him to sit down next to Esperanza Timmons, at the back. As soon as he sat down I sensed something. He had a mysterious aura, dark purple in colour.

"Hi, I'm Jake" He said.

"Esperanza. You can call me Anza." I only let my closest friends call me Anza. This mysterious boy made me feel as if my full name would not do, he had to have something special of mine, and a name was all I could give him.

Over the next few weeks I became convinced Jake had powers too. He would say: "Oh, we'll go down to the Café if its not too full." Then, when we got there the usually busy Café would be almost empty. I was fascinated by him, having never met another witch. But I had to be sure. I didn't want to blurt out my secret to a Normal. I spent even more time with him, all day at school, at least four times a week after school. He became more than a best friend, he became an obsession. I found out that he came from Cornwall, his family had to move here because his dad got a job here in Leamington. I looked up the history of witchcraft in Cornwall, searching 'Parton'. I found 'Parten'. Old names change, but there was only one name next to it: Matilda. Still, witchcraft can skip generations, it skipped Grandma. I was still convinced.

A year passed, and when we were both fifteen I decided to tell him. We were going out now, if I could know he was a witch too our relationship would be complete. For weeks I searched for the right spell to show him, one that would show him my power at its best, show him that if he wasn't as advanced as me I could teach him, help him. I was so eager to impress Jake that I went to the local library and took out some old, forgotten 'Dark Arts' books. Without Grandma knowing of course, I found several good spells, not too easy, not too hard, but the one that really fascinated me was one found in a book called 'Wicca - beware'. This book was written when witchcraft was greatly feared, and is full of spells - ones for Dark Witches. The spell I found and intended to do was called 'The pool of past' which pretty much tells you that, when performed properly, it shows the past, good or bad, of the 'victim'. The best time for this spell was at the full moon, which was two weeks on Friday. I had to find an earthenware bowl, water from a lake, sprigs of lavender, a black candle and a stick underneath an oak tree. I did. And I took him to a place where the moonlight shone on Friday night, when there was a full moon.

Jake was blindfolded, laughing, as I led him to the spot I prepared earlier. He was shocked by what he saw when I took the blindfold off.

"What's this?" He asked.

I laughed and told him I was planning a spell to show his past. He kissed my nose and said he would love a spell to show his past. I could tell he didn't believe me, but he probably didn't want to give his secret away too soon.

When it dark enough, I filled the bowl of water from the lake, dropped in the lavender sprigs and stirred with the stick. We had to be totally silent or the spell wouldn't work. I then lit the candle and gave it to Jake to hold. He put one hand in the water and I chanted:

"This man has asked for his past;

show it to us

Let it no longer be masked!"

In a few seconds Jake's eyes widened with shock: the water was bubbling. Flashes of light came from the candle, into the bowl, we saw Jake, ten or eleven, being hit by a fist, being cuddled by his mum, chasing a large black dog, searching for something in a muddy ditch, at the Café with me - the flashes stopped. Jake had dropped the candle, which blew out.

"Well? Impressed?"

"I-impressed?" He stuttered.

"It's okay. I know you're a witch, I am too"

"Witch? I'm not a - you're a? - what?"

"You're not a witch? But.."

I was interrupted by Jake's screams. I caught my reflection in the water. I was horrible. My face looked back at me, black webs forming across it. My eyes were no longer a sea blue, but black holes in my face. My once blond hair turned jet black, and my jeans and jumper were exchanged for long, black robes. Jake ran away from me. He stumbled, gave me a piercing stare and ran on. I knew he'd never believe me again. I knew he'd never trust me again. I knew he would never come near me again, let alone share my magic. I knew that he'd never even look at me again, because I was evil. I could not be saved. I was not good, and only the good survived.