Falling

If you were standing at the edge of the Forest of Cicily, directly above Alexia Ellen’s house in the town of Adamore on the twenty-seventh of August at precisely eight o’clock a.m., then you would hear absolute silence.

And if you were standing at the edge of the Forest of Cicily, directly above Alexia Ellen’s house in the town of Adamore on the twenty-seventh of August at precisely eight o’clock a.m., then you would be standing at the edge of a cliff, hundreds of feet above Adamore.

And if you were standing at the edge of the Forest of Cicily, directly above Alexia Ellen’s house in the town of Adamore on the twenty-seventh of August at precisely eight o’clock a.m., then you would be about to fall.

Because in exactly thirteen and a half seconds, John Abbot would run into you.

First, you would hear the sound of breaking branches.  Second, you would turn around.  Third, the boy would come barreling out of the forest and knock you down.

Luckily, when sixteen-year-old John Abbot rushed out of the Forest of Cicily there was no one there for him to knock over.  This is not only lucky for you, but lucky for John, because if John had knocked anyone off of the cliff, then that person would have fallen onto the house of Alexia Ellen, which would not have been a very lovely gift for the girl.

John Abbot was convinced that he had fallen in love with Alexia Ellen.  Alexia had smooth black hair that fell over her shoulders.  Her eyes were bright blue.  And she was so delicately small that many people said if you simply tapped her, she would break into pieces.

Ever since John had first met Alexia at the age of nine, he had been trying to win her heart.  He had done everything.  He had written her poems, given her flowers, taken her to plays, and at the age of fifteen, he had even been daring enough to kiss her on the cheek.

But, unfortunately for John, Alexia was quite dim-witted and didn’t notice his many attempts to woo her.  Sometimes, she didn’t even seem to see him at all;  And it was because of this that John had awoken early on the twenty-seventh of August, skipped breakfast, climbed up to the Forest of Cicily, and run full speed until he reached the edge of the cliff.

If you were to ever visit the town of Adamore and if you happened to look up at the side of the cliff, you would see a cottage perched precariously on a piece of rock that jutted about ten feet from the cliff.  The local witch lived in that cottage.  Everyone in the town of Adamore had basic knowledge of magic, but only the witch could perform very powerful magic.  This was where John Abbot was going.

John looked down at Adamore.  He looked at Alexia’s house and smiled, nodding, remembering why he was walking along the edge of a cliff at eight in the morning.  He walked until he was above the witch’s cottage.  He knelt down on his knees and held onto the edge of the cliff as he lowered himself down to the roof of the cottage.

Unfortunately, the cottage was just a few inches to low for John to get his proper footing.  His toes barely brushed the tiles.  He prayed that he would land safely on the roof and not fall to his death.  He let go.

He did land on the roof, but then he slid off of it, down onto the shelf of rock, hitting his shoulder hard against it, and rested barely a foot from the edge.  He sighed with relief and then groaned with pain.

John Abbot was a slightly odd boy.  He was handsome.  Certainly as handsome as any other boy in Adamore.  He had mousy brown hair, chocolate brown eyes, and was tall.  The only problem with John Abbot was that he liked to write.  Now, wherever you live, writing might not be a strange thing to do, but in Adamore writing was quite unusual.  The only people who wrote were scribes, and scribes were only taught how to write by retired scribes.  No one knew how John had learned to write.  No one particularly wanted to know.  Everyone just knew that there was no reason for John Abbot to be writing as much as he did, and that made him very odd.

John got up, brushed himself off, and faced the front door of the cottage.  He stepped forward slowly (there were rumors that the witch liked to eat children) and knocked on the door.

Nothing happened, so he knocked again.

Still nothing and he knocked once more.

When, again, no one answered, he tried the door.  It was unlocked so he stepped inside.  The one-room cottage was dark, but he could see the outline of a table and chairs nearby.  In the corner was a bed.  In front of the empty fireplace was a couch and chair.  To his left was a kitchen.  He stood near the doorway, which was providing the only source of light because there were no windows.

“Hello?” he called into the darkness.

“Hello,” answered a high voice that seemed to come from all around, making John jump slightly.

“Where are you?” he asked.

“Hello,” the voice said again, exactly as it had before.  John stepped farther into the room.

“Who’s there?” he called.

“Hello,” the voice said once more.  John took another step.  He felt the brush of air as the door snapped shut behind him and all light in the room suddenly disappeared.

“Hello?” he whispered, trembling with fear.

“What do you want?” a cold voice said from behind him.  It was not the same voice that had spoken before.

John turned around and saw, through the light seeping from around the door, the Witch towering over him.  She was younger than he had expected, perhaps in her twenties.  She wore a long violet dress and had a black shawl draped over her shoulders.

“I was hoping you would help me with something,” John said in a very small voice.

“Cicily!” the Witch called into the room without taking her eyes off John, “Turn on the lights!”

“Hello,” the original voice said again and candles all around the room were lit and the fireplace roared to life.  John felt considerably less scared when he could see.

“Sit,” the Witch commanded, pointing to the table.  John sat obediently.

“I am Ellinor,” she said, “Who are you?”

“John,” he answered quickly, “John Abbot.”

“And what would you like for me to help you with, John Abbot?” Ellinor the Witch said.

“Well,” John said slowly, avoiding the Witch’s eyes, “I am in love with Alexia Ellen, but she doesn’t even seem to notice me.  I was wondering if you could cast a spell that would make her really see me.”

The Witch nodded slowly, considering this.  “I think I can help you,” she said.  She rushed into the kitchen, her skirts swirling around her, and began baking.

“I will make you a muffin containing a magical spice that will make Alexia Ellen see you much differently than before.”

“Oh, thank you, ma’am!” John exclaimed.

“But before you eat the muffin,” she said, spinning around and pointing a long finger at him, “You must recite an oath swearing that you will not double-cross me or use the magic that is presented in this muffin against me.”

“Who or what do I swear on, ma’am?” John asked, remembering the rules of magical recitations.

“You will swear on the Ghost of Cicily,” Ellinor said, “The first witch, who originally lived in this cottage and still lives in this cottage.”

John shivered and looked around the cottage nervously.  He absentmindedly scratched at the table with his fingers, writing letters and words in the wood.

Alexia Ellen muffin witch cliff Cicily Adamore

A few minutes later, Ellinor dropped one muffin onto the table in front of John.  From the smell he could tell that there were many ingredients.

“Why a muffin, ma’am?” John asked.

“Because I like muffins!” the Witch snarled.

“All right, ma’am,” John nodded, reaching toward the muffin.

“Recite!” the Witch suddenly said, slamming her hand on the table.

John jumped and dropped his hands into his lap.  “I, John Abbot, swear upon the Ghost of Cicily,” he began, but the Witch interrupted him.

“Hands!” she commanded.

John quickly set his hands onto the table with his palms facing down and his fingers spread apart.  The only counter curse to a recitation or spell was crossed fingers or true love.

“I, John Abbot,” he began again, “Swear upon the Ghost of Cicily that I will not double-cross the Witch, Ellinor, or use the magic she gives me against her.”

“Good,” Ellinor said, “Now eat!”  She marched away and sat on the couch by the fire, reading what looked like a spell book.

John ate the muffin.  He could taste cinnamon, carrots, walnuts, and many other things.  When he finished, he stood up and backed out of the house.  “Goodbye, ma’am,” he said.  Ellinor did not answer and John, who took that to mean he was free to go, quickly rushed out of the house without a second glance.

When John had returned to Adamore, he was much happier than he had been when he had left.  He felt strangely lighter than before.  He supposed that was the magic from the muffin doing it’s job.  Surely, Alexia would really see him now.

John knocked on Alexia’s front door and she opened it.  John bowed.  “My dear Alexia,” he said, “You look beautiful today.”

But Alexia was acting strangely.  She looked through John as though he wasn’t there at all.  She leaned forward and looked down the street.  “Hello?” she called.

“I’m right here,” John said, but Alexia couldn’t hear him.

“Is anyone there?” Alexia said.

“I’m here!” John exclaimed.

Alexia shrugged and shut the door.  John stared at the door for a moment, then knocked again.  Alexia was obviously joking.  The door once again opened.

“What is it?” Alexia said, sounding quite annoyed.

“I wanted to see you, my dear,” John said, also sounding annoyed.

“This isn’t funny!” Alexia called out to the street.

“Can’t you see me?” John asked furiously.

Alexia began to close the door, but John caught it with his hand.  “Alexia!” he said, but she couldn’t hear him.

“Stop it!” Alexia cried, “Leave me alone!”  She rushed into the house, leaving the door open.

John paused and followed her inside.  It then occurred to him that perhaps Alexia really couldn’t see him.

I will make you a muffin containing a magical spice that will make Alexia Ellen see you much differently than before.

That Witch had tricked him.  Now Alexia would literally never be able to see him again.

John followed Alexia in to the living room of the small house.  She was nervously biting her nails, a habit she had, and glancing over her shoulder at the door.

“Alexia?” John said, “Are you sure you can’t hear me?”

Alexia turned away from the door and walked over to the couch.  She curled up on the cushions and stared at the fire.

“Please, Alexia,” John begged, even though he knew it was useless.  When Alexia said nothing, he sat on the couch beside her.  “Why don’t you see me?” he whispered.  Alexia continued to stare into the fire.

John stood up and walked out the door.  He looked up at the witch’s cottage.  He had to climb up there and have her reverse the spell, but it was such a long walk and he had already taken it twice today.  It would take almost an hour to climb up there and another hour to climb back.

Then he had an idea.  He could visit Mrs. Ellen, Alexia’s mother.  She was the doctor in Adamore, and although he had a spell on him and not a disease, her mother would surely be able to help in someway.  He ran through the town, pushing people out of his way, until he arrived at the building where Mrs. Ellen worked during the day.  He knocked on the door.

“Come in,” Mrs. Ellen called.

John opened the door and peeked inside, hoping Mrs. Ellen could see him.

“Mrs. Ellen?” he asked.

“Oh, hello, John,” she said, “Please, come in.”

John sighed with relief and entered the room.  There was a bed against one wall where the patients usually laid and chairs against the wall opposite.  A door led into the back room of the building.

“What is it?” she asked.

His words suddenly came out in a rush.  He told Mrs. Ellen everything about how he was in love with her daughter, how he had gone to the witch, and how Alexia could no longer see him.

“Oh dear,” Mrs. Ellen said worriedly, “This is a problem.”

John nodded.  “Can you help?”

“I’m only a doctor, John,” she said, “I don’t know much about magic this powerful.  Maybe we need to talk to Alexia.  Maybe if she knew you existed and are invisible than she would be able to see you.”

“That’s great,” John said.

Mrs. Ellen led John back to her house, where Alexia was now cooking lunch.

“Alexia?” Mrs. Ellen called into the house.

“Mother,” Alexia said, “Why are you home so early?”

“Sweetheart,” Mrs. Ellen said, leaning against the kitchen counter, “I was wondering if anything strange happened to you today.”

“Oh yes, actually,” Alexia said, “Today someone knocked on our door, but when I answered they weren’t there.  And then they held the door open when I tried to close it.  It was scary.”

John walked around the kitchen and stood next to Alexia.

“See?” he said to Mrs. Ellen.

“Yes, yes, I do,” Mrs. Ellen said.

“You do?” Alexia asked, “You do what?”

“Well, dear,” Mrs. Ellen said, “It seems that John Abbot has had an invisibility spell set upon him by the witch on the cliff.”

“What?” Alexia asked, bewildered.

“This spell makes it so that you can longer see him, hear him, or sense him in any other way,” Mrs. Ellen said, “It’s very strange.”

“But,” Alexia said, “But then that would mean…that would mean he’s in this room, isn’t he?”  She looked around wildly, her hair flapping through the air and hitting John in the face.

“Yes,” Mrs. Ellen said, “He’s standing right next to you.”

Alexia jumped back and stared at the place next to her.  She was staring right at John.  “But I don’t see him,” she said.

“Hm,” Mrs. Ellen said, “We were hoping if we told you it might counter the spell.”

“The only counter curse to any spell is crossed fingers or true love,” Alexia said.

“But I do love you!  It is true love!” John exclaimed.

“This is crazy!” Alexia said, running to the couch and curling up there just like she had earlier.  Just like she always did when she was upset.

“Alexia!” John sat down next to her and stared at her.  She stared at the fire.  John reached forward with his hand and scratched words into the wood of the table in front of the couch.

Alexia See Me

Alexia saw the words form on the wood and gasped.  She pulled away from them.  Of course, Alexia couldn’t read so she didn’t know what the words said, but she had just seen words carve themselves into her table.  “I don’t understand,” she said.  She stood up and ran out of the house.

“Alexia!” John called after her.  He followed her out of the house.

They ran down the street, into the woods.  They climbed through the woods until they were at the top of the cliff.  John chased her for an hour until Alexia collapsed to her knees at the edge of the cliff, directly above her house, the same place where John had been that morning.

John knelt down next to her.  “Alexia?” he whispered.

“Why can’t I see you?” she asked the open air.

“I don’t know,” John answered, although he knew she couldn’t hear him.

They sat in silence for a moment.

“Why did you trust that witch?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” John answered, “It was stupid of me.”

Again they were silent.

“I wish I could hear you,” she said.

“I wish you could see me,” he said.

“I don’t even know if you’re here,” she said.

John reached forward and scratched letters into the dirt.

Hello

“I don’t know what that says,” she said as she stared at the word.

He reached over and laid his hand on hers, so that their fingers were crossing over each other.  “Can’t you feel that?” he asked her.

“Yes,” she said.  Then she looked up at John with surprise.  John stared back at her, equally surprised that she had answered.

“Yes,” she said again, “I can feel that.”

They both looked down at their hands.  “The only counter curse to a spell is crossed fingers or true love,” John said.

Alexia looked up at him.  “I can see you,” she said.  John grinned.  “Hello,” he said.

They stood up, keeping their fingers expertly crossed.  Alexia smiled and hugged him.  “I can see you!” she repeated with more enthusiasm.

“I know!”  They let go of each other and looked at each other.

And then they heard the sound of breaking branches.  They turned.  A boy came barreling out of the forest and ran into Alexia and John.  They slipped.

They fell.