Being a witch

It was before Halloween. Marie wouldn’t care about it if she didn’t get an invitation to a party. She agreed to come because she was tired of routine grey days. She thought that the party could bring her back the forgotten taste of life. And she also hoped to meet new people there. She thought about an outfit. Should it be horrible? No, definitely not. She was tired of spooky, horrible things. It should have some meaning, give a chance to try something new. This should be a new life. She tried to find something that would suit her in the internet. The dresses there lacked taste, were very short ones and looked more for a sex party rather than halloween one. Then she saw a magic wand. It also gave her wrong associations. “I am completely spoiled by this life.” - she thought- “no fairytale. I shall be a fairy” But then she talked to a couple of guys and they said that they wouldn’t like to have sex with a fairy. They would prefer a witch. Marie thought that maybe fairies are left in the childhood. And she started looking for a costume of a witch. She imagined that she had a power to change the reality, she imagined her flying in the air on her broomstick. She felt the wind, she could see people somewhere on the ground, they were so small. What was she going to do having such a great power? Yes, she would certainly make the guys who did her wrong respect her. But then she realized she didn’t want to teach somebody a lesson. She loved people. And she didn’t want to force somebody to love her. Nothing against their will. She felt vulnerable as Bulgakov’s Margarita, as Margarita she was forgiving and went to the party with love in her heart. Still she went there being a witch. A powerful witch. That day she felt this power and she had a broomstick. She was choosing it as if it were a car. As if she really was gong to use it in the air. The flight was there, in her imagination and it was like real. She could feel her power when she bought drinks cheaper than ever all of sudden. The magic worked. And so she came (actually flew on her broomstick) to a said address in the evening. A flat was already full of guests. Many were in holiday clothes with colored faces. Sceletons, witches, others were eating. It seemed that the trip took lots of their energy and now they were really hungry. Brooms were parked in different places: corners, sofa, kept in hands. “Broom is a good way of transport, very convenient”- one of the guests said - “Practically no traffic jams in the air. Put on warm clothes and go. Very soon we all will use it”. They really looked like the ones that came from faraway to meet once a year. Were they good actors, looneys or they really possessed some special power? Tables were full of delicious food. Guests came in and left drinks near the windows. There were so many of them as if they were multiplied there with the help of the darkness. There was music playing. Lots of new faces, hands, bodies popped inside. Dear guests greeted everyone like their best friend, to be on the safe side. It was not easy sometimes to recognize a person.
- You look spooky tonight - was heard now and then.
- You too! Such a meeting!
Some guests started dancing. One could notice parts of tissue left on the floor by them. A girl with dead white face and red nose was furiously beating a drum with sticks. The second one cried out some words, they were not heard but guests liked it. Sometimes they were interrupted by roar coming out of the host’s mobile phone.
- How are you dear? I hope you are enjoying yourself - the host asked quests. He had a festive tie with good looking sculls. After some songs the music became louder and many felt like dancing. There was a nice guy putting songs. He had a kind face. Sometimes he stopped one and shaking his head put on another song saying:
- You see, they don’t like rock, they don’t dance to it.
There were people who played a guitar and sang. They had a warm welcome. Guests were clapping hands making lots of noise. People were everywhere and they were talking with each other. People who five minutes ago didn’t know each other now were talking, sharing their experience, thoughts, feelings, dreams. After some hours people started leaving. But many were inside smoking shisha, eating, drinking, dancing, talking, hugging in a subdued light from lamps. They talked about their dreams, ex and present beloved, about love. And about cats. She felt a stranger among them. She watched people dancing, hugging each other tight. Marie thought there was nothing real in these hugs. But it amused her. She didn’t want to be on their place as she hated everything without deep meaning, that would last one night. She left the flat in the the morning and there were still people left.
It took her 20 minutes to get home. It was surprisingly fast, like by a miracle. Was it because she had a magic broomstick with her?
She slept a couple of hours and woke up remembering people she saw at the party: “he was so shitty with me but I don’t take it close to heart, this is not about me, he is selfish, selfish guys are not able to love”, “this is so important that you know what you love, many people don’t know”, “life is too short, don’t take it seriously, don’t be fooled. Joke, laugh. Others will not benefit if you are too serious, you will not benefit”, etc. She was sitting quietly near the window listening to the falling leaves. Autumn like terrific Zhar -ptitsa was flying away before her eyes. The sounds of winter were better heard. Was she glad she came to that party? She didn’t know, it was an experience to think about. She felt lonely and it seemed that no magic could help her.