I stared at her from across the construction classroom, I couldn’t take my eyes of her, we used to be friends and before I noticed she was attractive, but now, she was enchanting.
She caught me staring and shot me a mean glare, I pretended to be reading a sign behind her, pointing at the letters and mouthing what it said in hopes I could make her think I wasn’t watching her.
It didn’t work.
She gave me a death stare and it felt like the room dropped 10 degrees. I felt a bead of sweat drip down my face from the embarrassment, my heart pounded in my chest.
“Go talk to her!” My mind screamed at me.
I quickly went back to watching the instructor and she went back to her phone, no matter how hard I tried to focus, all I could think of was her, her name bounced in my head “Jessica.” Her brown hair and shimmering makeup flashed in my head, she dressed like a goth mixed with a slut.
“I guess it’s fitting she dresses like that, she does want to be a stripper after all, and she watches gore videos for fun.” I told myself, trying to convince my mind to stop feeling attraction to her.
The class ended and I found myself following her down the hallway, I don’t remember my thought process, and I don’t remember why, suddenly she stopped and I tried to speak
“Hieloo.” I said accidentally mixing hello with hi.
“Hi.” She said flatly while staring at her phone.
“Uh so, how have, ummmm… you been?” I said trying to think of what to say.
“Good.” She said still staring at her phone. I glanced down and noticed it was off, she probably just stopped to change the song when I talked to her.
“Oh, that’s good…” I said, I was sad she was trying not to interact with me.
“Yeah.” She said, she took a step to the left and quickly walked away, she didn’t look up until she had passed me.
Later that night I ran upstairs while my mom was away. “I need cinnamon, water, salt, urine, spit, paper, a pen, a small mirror, and some chilli.” I repeated as I grabbed the ingredients.
I quickly threw the ingredients in a bag, said some stupid chant, and hid it behind some bags in the freezer. She had placed me under a love spell as I found out through some friends.
That weekend passed uneventfully, my spell wasn’t seeming to have any affects so far, I was still thinking of her.
Then Monday came, I went to school and at 9:30 I got called to the principal’s office “What’s wrong, is everything ok?” I asked mr. Smith, the principal.
“Well, I’ve gotten a few reports of you swearing in class.” He replied as he straightened up some papers on his desk.
“Everyone swears, hell, even the teachers!” I replied.
“Yes, but that’s not why we called you down, now I’m going to have to call your mom and tell her.” He replied as he picked up the phone and started punching in some numbers.
“Fuck you, asshole!” I blurted out without thinking. I was surprised I never talked back to the principal before. Mr. Smith stared at me in surprise, we had a good relationship and he was really nice.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know where that came from.” I said, my cheeks flushing. He started talking into the phone and soon my mom came to pick me up.
The next day I wasn’t in school, due to being suspended, after that it seemed like weird things were happening, first was a snow day, after that I got a weird sickness and couldn’t attend school, it seemed I couldn’t get to construction class no matter what happened, I also stopped thinking of Jessica.
Then one day I walked into class, it hit me like a brick. I couldn’t stop thinking of Jessica I stared at her face, her makeup glistened in the light. Her brown hair looked wavy and cute, everything about her, I loved.
I suddenly remembered “the rule of three.” A rule in witchcraft that states whatever you send out comes back yo you three times. I tried to send the love spell back to her, but now it’s coming back to me worse than before.
Over time I thought of her more, and more. I became isolated from my family, I stopped doing my hair, I didn’t bother showering, I stopped attending school, and I lost enjoyment in all my hobbies. Rather, I spent the majority of my day stalking her online.
But she’s taken. She has a boyfriend, in Hollywood spells I would have killed him. But that’s not what real spells do.
I brushed my now long greasy hair out of my pimple covered face, I hadn’t left my room in days. All I do is think of her. All day, every day.
But I know I can never have her. She’s pretty, skinny, well clean, and confident. I’m ugly, fat, dirty and smelly, and very self conscious.
I wrote on paper, describing in detail how much I love her. A tear rolled down my cheek, I tried reversing the spell last night, but it didn’t work.
I held up the knife, and quickly struck down onto my wrist, blood pooled from the wound as I felt the knife grinding against my bone. I did the other wrist.
I know lay here dying as I type this. I wish I never practiced witchcraft, I wish I never did that spell.
Oh wait, she just added me on snapcha-