Chapter 1: The Book

My sixteenth birthday just passed, putting another slightly disappointing party behind me. My junior year of high school is coming up in a few weeks, yet I still only have two friends. Many of the other more popular girls already have boyfriends because they were gifted with developed, curvy bodies. As for me, I managed to grow to five feet and three inches, with an almost flat chest, no hips, and no butt. I’m dreading going back to school, knowing the same jokes are waiting for me; jokes about having no figure, or being a board, a stick, or any other flat objects that came to mind. I tried doing my hair, makeup, wearing nice clothes, skimpy clothes, but none of it mattered.

With the money I received for my birthday, I decided to take a trip to one of my favorite shops. It specializes in occult items, but I mostly just collect things for display because I like them. As usual, I take my time browsing, feeling more at home here than anywhere else. I walk up one aisle, then down the next, my eyes seeking and my hands touching. Though only one section has books, it sets the atmosphere for the entire shop with its smell. Beside me, a book falls from its place, hitting the ground with a thud. I quickly pick it up and shove it back in place. At the end of the section, I turn and come around to the next side. I’ve never actually bought a book, though I browse them every time. Most of them have to do with magic and spells, which I’ve never had any interest in.

I hear a thud on the opposite side, and I find another fallen book—this time, I pause to look at it, recalling the same art pattern on the front. Again, I place the book on the shelf and continue from where I left off. I make it to the end, where they have a selection of cute socks, and as usual, I pick up a couple. On the way back, I catch a glimpse of a book on the floor, so I stop and turn. I notice it’s the same book as before, making me look around for someone pulling a prank on me. The shop is quiet as always, empty, with just me and the person at the counter. Once more, I take the book up, and I read the title.

“Evocations,” I say softly.

I open the cover to read the summary just inside. It explains that the book contents are all about summoning spirits, which can be used for various purposes. It goes on to list some scenarios that one might hope to get assistance with. I take the book, the socks, and a few other items to the front and pay for them.

At home, my two older brothers tease me about being at the shop for so long. Howard is a year older than me, and Alex is two years older. Alex starts first, as always, then Howard chimes in to follow his lead.

“Have fun at your emo shop, Sophie?” Alex says in a teasing tone.

“I bet you probably have a room and bed down there,” Howard says after.

“Whatever,” I say, walking past them.

I sort through the items I purchased in my room and put the book away for now since I don’t feel up to reading. After a hot shower, I dress in my lazy clothes, consisting of sweat pants and a large t-shirt. I slide my feet into a pair of the new socks I just got, then head downstairs for dinner.

Dinner time is a mandatory family function, so we all assemble in the dining room to eat. Mom and dad, and my brothers all happily share the highlights of their day, and I give my standard input of, “it was fine.” Their attempts to pry more information from me died long ago, and now they just accept my unwillingness to share on most days.

Once we’re excused from the table, I head back to my room, like a squirrel retreating with its newly found snack. The remainder of my evening is spent with a pencil to paper, sketching things like shoes, clothes, and other inanimate objects. I have dozens of sketchbooks filled with my drawings. I enjoy taking small things, like a penny, and drawing it in full detail. Most people don’t take the time to notice such small features. I do this for several hours until I feel sleep starting to overtake me, then I put my book to the side and lie down.

An abrupt thump wakes me from sleep, and I try to look around with fatigued eyes to see what made the sound. I use my phone’s flashlight to look beside my bed, then move the light across the floor. I see a book just below a shelf, with its pages open. With the mystery solved, I turn over and close my eyes again, hoping to drift back to sleep. A thought enters my mind, reminding me of the book that kept falling in the shop. It piques my curiosity enough that I get out of bed to check. I pick it up by one end and look at the cover, confirming my suspicion. Now that I’m awake, I sit back in bed and begin to read the open page.

“A spirit of good fortune. This evocation will call a spirit to you that will lend guidance and wisdom to your everyday life. Once properly invoked, you’ll find that the decisions you make will lead to better outcomes.” I continue to read where it explains the differences in the spell, depending on the situation you’re trying to solve. There’s a version for money trouble, relationship trouble, work trouble, speech, learning, and even social issues. I’m surprised that many of the items needed for these are things I already own and are just sitting around on display.

I follow the instructions in the book until I have almost everything placed on the floor. I substitute one item and find that I’m missing another for this particular spell. If successful, this spirit is supposed to bring good fortune with social issues, and I imagine what it would be like to make more friends or be popular. The floor in my room is covered in occult objects now, laid out in the manner described in the book. I double-check my work, then begin to recite the incantation.

My words break the room’s silence as I picture myself akin to a witch seen in movies. I expect to feel something, though; I’m not sure what. Should there be a sudden chill, or should I feel a presence? I don’t notice a difference when I finish speaking, so I look through the book for more information. While reading, I start to feel sleepy again and chalk up the failure to the missing items.

At breakfast in the morning, I find my plan to get the other items delayed due to my parents taking us to visit relatives for the weekend. I make my disappointment known by maintaining a sour look on my face throughout breakfast. Of course, no one acknowledges my visual-based protest, not that I expected them to.

I get my luggage out, then set aside the clothes I’ll be wearing for the trip before taking a shower. Since I’ll be away from home for two nights, I need to give my hair a thorough washing. I set the water, then step into the tub, moving back into the stream. The water contacts the back of my legs first and moves higher until I feel a sting behind my left shoulder. I clasp my right hand over the shoulder and pull to see a series of short, thin scratch marks about an inch down.

I apply ointment to the scratches after the shower, then dress before packing again. Soon, we’re all in the car and on our way for the two-hour trip. Because I’m the shortest, I end up stuck in the middle as usual, so I put on my earbuds and plan to mentally isolate myself until we arrive. My brothers attempt to be annoying as possible at times, though I just keep my eyes on the phone and ignore them.

When we finally arrive, I prepare for the harrowing social interactions ahead. First, there’s my aunt and uncle, followed by three cousins, who are all males. In fact, I’m the only female in the family in my age group. The next closest is an aunt on my dad’s side of the family who’s ten years older than me. The greetings and catching up feel like it takes forever before we’re able to set up in the guest rooms. We live in a rather large house, but this house is even bigger.

My aunt and uncle have their bedroom in the attic, and my parents use the basement, which is also converted into a room. Out of the other three rooms, I’m allowed to have my own because I’m a girl, and my youngest cousin has to sleep in the living room. My brothers each share a room with our other two cousins. I stay in the bedroom until dinner time, then join the rest of the family to fulfill my obligation. My dad and uncle cook on the grill, so the event takes place outside, which means I’m not forced to sit with the group for dinner. I enjoy the food and talk to my cousins, who tend to be nicer to me than my brothers.

After all the food and talking, I head back to the room and watch videos on my phone. Eventually, my mom calls me down to sit with her and my aunt while all the guys get into other things. They show me an old photo album filled with pictures going back decades. Because my mom likes to spill my business, my aunt assures me that all the girls in the family bloom late. She provides supporting evidence by showing different photos of family members around my age, then as they got older. Considering my mom is well-endowed, it isn’t something that I was worried about in the future, but rather in the present.

I agree to get up early to help them make breakfast, even though I don’t understand why we have to do all the cooking for the guys. My mom and aunt are old-fashioned, so they still believe in being housewives, and I suppose that isn’t bad. I’m not sure if that’s something I want to do when I’m older or even married. Once they have my commitment, I’m allowed to head back to the room.

I don’t wake up until the sun comes through the window, which means I must have slept very well. The blanket is pushed to one side, and I notice my top is pulled down all the way to my waist, leaving my chest bare. “Perverts,” I say as I sigh and shake my head, knowing the guys did it. I don’t understand why they’d want to see their sister and cousin naked. But, I guess to them, a naked girl is a naked girl, even though I don’t have much to look at.

I get dressed, then head downstairs to help with breakfast. When we sit down to eat, I look at my brothers and cousins, wondering which one of them decided to peep at me last night or if it was all of them. I know there’s no point in bringing it up because they would just deny it.

My day is filled with traditional female duties; cooking, washing dishes and then learning to sew. I pay attention to sewing since it’s at least a skill that can be of value later on in life. Even after that, I’m told I have to enjoy time outside, so I end up watching the guys get into things. We end up at a park with a lake filled with ducks. The guys decide to antagonize them for fun, making the ducks swim back and forth to avoid them.