The Wizard Who Wasn't - A Shortish Story

The Wizard Who Wasn’t


The hazy fog of my memory is starting to plague me. Another dream and remembering the fragments cut away at the shell I’ve made for myself.

Back in my childhood, I’m eight. My best friend and me; Den and Jake. I remember more. The fear that one-day we would be taken. For nothing more than that we had magic. We both have magic, we both keep the secret.

The inviting mid-morning sun and the prospect of attacking each other with sticky weed was calling. But we didn’t do that. What did we do instead? We tampered with the biology project. Our small sunflower seedling growing short and stout relative to everyone else’s couldn’t be just left alone.

We sat around the small brown pot. Jake looked at it blankly for a minute then touched the one leaf the plant possessed. It glowed and a second leaf grew next to the first. He took my hands. “One day you will have magic too, I can feel it in you”. I remember asking him why I didn’t have magic too. “It’s because I’m stronger than everyone else. But don’t worry. When you’re 16, you’ll get you’re magic, like all the other wizards”.

I never wanted to get my magic; even at eight we knew that the few who had magic were snatched. He promised that we wouldn’t let each other get taken, that one day we would be heroes and free the wizards. If only that night the sunflower hadn’t overgrown and taken over the school.

It was all so long ago; here is when the fog gets thicker. I remember the beating of a helicopter overhead. The snatchers took you. There was screaming, but it wasn’t you, it was me. I looked into your eyes as they carried you away. The leader of the snatchers knelt down to hold me back. “Stay back” he said, “unless you have magic too. Do you have magic?” and leaned in closer. Not looking away from Jake, I shook my head and said, “no”. The last thing I remember was you being taken into the light of the helicopter searchlights.

Then I felt a dull thud to my ribcage. Wait, that’s not what happened. Another thud to my ribcage. The fog got thicker and thicker, then I opened my eyes. Just a dream, just another dream. Then where I was hit me like tidal wave of panic. I had fallen asleep in the end of year assembly. Not just any end of year assembly, my last one.

“At least don’t snore. I know you’re a ninja but not even you could get away with falling asleep here” was hushly whispered in my left ear.

“Just don’t elbow me so hard, Link”, I replied. Link is my best friend and in October we’re going to be going to the same university. Link is quite strange in that he looks like a quiet wimpy nerd, small, thick glasses, going to study maths, but always surprises you in being moderately outgoing.

The Headmaster on the stage had just finished his concluding speech, and went to sit down at the back of the stage. Clearly it was drier than last year’s speech as Sam, my other friend was also asleep. At least I assumed he was asleep, I could hear slow, heavy breathing emerging from his hair. Just to point out, Sam fancies himself as a punk rocker. Despite the skinny jeans and epic hair, he’s a bit pathetic. The number of times he screams at the sight of a spider is hilarious.

Just a few more minutes, just a few more seconds, just one last thank you from the assistant head and . . . The school bell echoed around the auditorium, and the thunder of the chairs rattle as everyone hurried to leave.