Jream Hazel sat in the window seat of her big living room overlooking the yard in front of her big Victorian house. She had been trapped on the property for the past five years.
On the eve of her eighteenth birthday her father had murdered her love, having caught him in her bedroom with her bags packed and about to climb out the window. He had gone into a startling rage and dragged her love, Shawn Longman, from the room.
He had shoved Shawn down the stairs and into the basement, where he had murdered him and trapped his soul in hell for all eternity. When he had returned to find Jream weeping, he had warned her that if she reported him to the police he would have her committed. There wouldn't be a shred of evidence regardless.
After having to swear she wouldn't reveal his secret he had cursed the land and her. She could not set foot out off his land or else Shawn's soul would be forced to wander in hell for eternity. If she stayed past her thirtieth birthday Shawn's soul would be set free, but she would still have to reside on the land. Land Shawn would not be able to set foot on after the spell wore off. Unless she could make her counter spell work.
She thought for a moment while staring out at the midnight sky. Tonight, at precisely midnight, would be the exact moment Shawn was born. Tonight she was going to try again. Every year since Shawn’s murderer, on the night of his birth, she had tried to call him to her from the fires of hell. She had succeeded only once, and he had only been free for a few mere moments. Ever since she had tried that same spell over and over always doing something a little different, hoping to save him.
This time, instead of using rosemary in the mixture she had to pour in the pond where they first met, she was using time. She looked down at her hand. This time was also different because she had found that one missing ingredient. Blood, her blood to be exact.
Quiet as a ghost, she glided gracefully up the stairs and into her bedroom. She took out an old and important robe. It was long, with sleeves that belled out, and a neck line that delved deeply. It was pure white and was her witches robe. She slide out of her jeans and t-shirt and slide the robe over her head. Smiling slightly she took her long silver chain necklace and put it on.
The necklace held a moonstone that was the same blue-purple as her eyes, and, a small string of silver chain attaching them was a small silver carving of a feather. The moonstone was from her mother, dead for nine years, and the silver feather carving was from Shawn on her seventeenth birthday.
At exactly midnight she picked up the old wooden bowl she always used on these nights, she sprinkled her crushed time into the bowl with the mixture of dull gray. Picking up her dagger, which was decorated with moonstones and jewels, she walked out the back door and followed the path to the pond that was just inside the border of her father’s land. She had found Shawn here that first day, trespassing without even realizing it.
Sliding a hand nervously through her honey brown hair, she set the bowl down at her feet, facing the pond and began the spell.
“Éirigí mo rún! Tar chugam ó do phríosún dó! Tar chugam, duine neamhchiontach O! A scaoileadh saor le mo chuid fola, mo íobairt!” She exclaimed, raising her arms to heaven, the Irish rolling off her tongue easily. “Arise my beloved! Come to me from your burning prison! Come to me, O innocent one! Be freed by my blood, my sacrifice!” She repeated in English.
She drew the blade of the dagger across he palm and held her bleeding hand over the bowl. When she was satisfied with the amount of blood, she poured half of the mixture into the pond and watched as the pond turned a deadly red. Flames erupted just above the surface of the water, an inferno. The inferno moved forward until it was infront of her. Taking a deep breath she finalized the calling.
"Shawn Longman, innocent and my bloved, I call you out of your unjust prison to be by my side once again. Arise!" She called into the inferno, tossing the last of the mixture in the bowl into the fire. For a moment nothing happened, then the flames became higher, more raging, and then dissappeared, leaving behind them her unjustly inprisoned love.
Shawn lay on his stomach on the grass at her feet, unconcious. His blue-black hair was curling at the nape of his neck, and one farmiliar, stubborn curl of hair insisted on resting on his bronze forehead. His broad back and shoulders were bared, and he only wore a pair of old faded jeans that hung low on his hips. The bronze colored flesh of his body was barely darker than last she had seen him.
Tears leaking down her face, she knelt next to him and took his head in her lap. His eyes fluttered open slowly, his long black lashes shadowing his dove grey eyes. The sharp plains of his face were weary and his full mouth turned down in a frown.
"Jream?" He asked in disbelief, his pupils growing, blocking mst of the gray of his eyes.
"Yep, that's me." She said softly, combing one of her hands through his hair. She leaned toward the pond and dampened part of her sleeve, pulling back she laid the wet sleeve against his forehead. He was wide awake now and shoved up to a sitting position.
"How did you...?"
"I used time, and a litle blood." She murmered, knowing he wouldn't approve of her tactic to saving him even though it was a small cut. Instead of the speech she expected, he frowned for a second, then lt it go. Before she could say anything else, he was kissing her, pulling her against him so that they were fitted together perfectly, her curves and his angles.
He pulled back a little and buried his face into her hair. "God how I missed you!" He muttered, keeping his arms wrapped around her.
"Shawn, I don't know how long-" She started, only to be cut off.
"I don't care when it ends. I have this time with you, lets not waste it."
He slowly pulled her toward the house. They spent the rest of the night in each others arms, as she told him stories of what had happened since they had last talked. In the ew moments they wee allowed the last time he had cried in earnist on her shoulder, telling her about the pain and aungish of the burning, the feeling of an eternity passing in the span of a few long moments. he had also cried from relief of knowing that she stil loved him, still wanted him to marry her. And in dismay over not being able to mrryher and share a life with her.
This time, their only tears were tears of joy as they fell asleep in each pthers arms.


Jream woke, alone and cold the next morning. She blinked back tears of dimay when she realized her spell must have been another short term one. It wasn't until she had climbed out of the bed and was on her way down the stairs that she smelt it. It smelled like eggs, and bicuits and sausage.
Trembling with antisipation she entered the kitchen to find a blue-black haired, wide shouldered, and bronzed skined man cooking. When he heard her gasp he turned, smiling, that stubborn curl in it's place on his forehead.
"I put cheese int the eggs, I remembered you loved them that way." He said, smling again.
"The spell! It wasn't short term!" She exclaimed, smiling broadly. Taking a running start, she launched herself into his arms and kissed him.
"Marry me now?" He asked, grinning down at her.
"Yes!" She said, not hesatating. It was as if nothing had ever seperated them. I guess, she thought, thats the magic of love in the moonlight.


THE END

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Tag der Veröffentlichung: 08.11.2010

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