Chapter 3: Aja
Aja Masara
The loud bang of the white door slamming shut propels me upright in my bed, waking me up from my...dream?
I get out of bed and walk to my bathroom. I feel strange tonight. It all felt so real. I just can't put my finger on it.
"It is not a reflection!" I remember myself yelling just as I got pulled into different directions.
I stop in front of my bathroom sink and splash cold water onto my face.
I sigh as I hear the telephone ring downstairs but my mother goes to answer it.
I have had the same dream, of that same hallway since I was five. I have been seeing myself since I was five. Always me, either in that hallway, outside in the backyard, at the edge of the forest, or on the swing under the oak tree. Sometimes even sitting on the window pane, as if I was about to jump. But I could never speak to myself, no matter how hard I tried. I could never touch myself. It was as though I existed somewhere else at the same time and I just could never see. I knew my reflection noticed me ,but it was like she couldn't reach me either. It was terrifying at first and then I got used to it.
I hear my mom walk down the hallway and the creaks of the hardwood floor give me a certain kind of nostalgia. My bedroom door opens but I don't move from my spot in the bathroom in front of the mirror.
"Aja, honey are you alright?" She asks as she comes to stand next to me at the counter.
I look her in the eyes in the mirror and I notice the concern in her eyes. She knows something is up. I wonder if she can tell what it is. I just nod in response and that causes her to release a sigh of frustration.
My mom is a stunning woman I have to give it to her because her beauty always catches me off guard. No makeup and a scarf around her head and she would still turn heads if she stepped out the door. I never understood why she didn't want to get into a relationship with another man after my father. I always thought she was just still hung up on my him, whoever he was. He is dead. He died in a car accident when I was a little girl.
"What are you thinking about?" She asks, changing the topic, for now.
"My father." I decide. She knows something is wrong, and I haven't told her about my dreams in years. I don't have to start to tonight.
She looks down immediately but her eyes, on their way down notice my chest and its bareness and I see her enter a state of panic.
"Aja where is your necklace?!" I try to explain that I have developed a strange reaction to it but I am so used to mom that I don't even get upset when she starts ranting and frantically looking for it on my dresser.
The necklace is my protective charm.
"Aja, you have to wear this at all times. You don't have a choice. You should have never taken it off. I told you to never take it off. Where is it?!"
My mom is what us modern kids would call a 'Spiritualist' and what the town gossips call 'a witch', which is not at all far off from what she actually is. In fact, it is entirely accurate.
My mom and I come from a coven of witches, powerful witches who walk around with the label of Spiritualists for the sake of modernsim. My mom claims that the necklace is some kind of protection against evil. She has never really given me a true explanation, other than that it "protects me".
I never really took the whole spiritual path seriously but I do certain things out of respect and support for my mother. If there is anything about Imani Masara, it is that she is a volatile creature. Her spiritual community really keeps her balanced and me being an active part of her life helps her too. So I do.
My mother is an extremely powerful witch, unfortunately she has very fragile mental health and every time she is overly emotional, she loses control of her powers. Obviously, she has adopted methods to keep her powers in check, but that only works as long as her mental health is in check. So she does intense therapy in order to keep herself sane. She even goes to mental health clinics like 4 times a year for intentional and direct treatment. Hence, the coven is a crucial source of structure and security for my mother, and I believe even more so since they cared for her after the deaths of her sister and her husband. But the coven is not so much a source of security for me.
I used to accompany her to all the services and events, everything. In fact, the community was a great source of joy for me as well, until I was about 13.
That was my first time witnessing an initiation ritual.
One lady from our coven community was supposed to be initiated, in order for her to begin her ordained path as a Sangoma(a wise elder, witch) but instead, she ended up getting possessed by a malicious trickster demon.
It ran up to me and started shouting at me in a language I couldn't understand. Clawing and scratching at me. I still have a small acar on my temple, where she had scratched me.
Had it not been for the crowd, I don't know what would have happend to me. When I asked my mom what the lady had said, all she said was, 'You shouldn't have been there in the first place'. And that is what everyone would say when I'd ask them. Nobody gave me am explanation for what happened. Ever since then, I couldn't help but feel unsafe in the coven, especially since I knew they were hiding things from me. So I mostly stayed away. I only go to gatherings during special celebrations or compulsory events.
"The necklace is in the jewellery box, mom."
I walk towards her and point to the box but as soon as I grab it, it is as though a shock goes through my entire body, burning me from the inside out.
It is an inexplicable pain. I hear a faint scream from my mom but the pain is too much. I fall to the floor and suddenly I am consumed by darkness.
Gifts
-- Gift
received Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone