Chapter 3 - 3

Part Three



Kara Parsnip, the letter read,



We have recently heard of strange going on's in your household. And we must put a stop to it. We, meaning the Witch's Council. Usually, we would approve of a young witch such as yourself practicing powers, but seeing as you appear to be practicing the wrong side of witchcraft in your house, we have no choice but to make a visit to your house at 12 noon on the 23rd of April. Furthermore, more usage of your disabled powers before our visit will result in a detention of 12 years or more. We do not approve of black witchcraft, especially not from an underage witch such as you. One last thing: we have no records of you attending any of our one hundred magical academies. Therefore, at our visit we will discuss the possibilities of this action with your parent/guardian.



Thank you for your eyes;

Geraldine Livenheart; Witch's' Council.



Kara slumped back on the cherry-red sofa in complete and utter shock. What on EARTH was this letter about? All this about a Witch's' council? Witch's' council? There was no such thing! Certainly none, other than in the old story books in which Kara divulged her attention so often. Those ones with the papery pages that tore with a single flick of the page. In those there had been mentions of all sorts of things: terrifying dragons, bright green witches, brave wizards ... even a few valiant unicorns had been added for drama. But without doubt, in Kara's eyes, none of it was real. None of it at all. So neither was this. Completely, and utterly, UNREAL. A trick of her sister's, perhaps. To get her even more scared after the wild house party. Yeah, thought Kara with a broad grin. That must be it.



"Ha, ha, so very funny," snarled Kara, her beam turning to a curled-up lip as Lindsay entered the lounge from the kitchen, holding the bridge of her nose with a tissue to stop one of her classic, sudden nosebleeds. On one of her fingers was a disgusting, bloody red colour, which dripped onto the cream carpet as she sat down. She glared at her sister, sizing her up, past a wad of white (and occasionally scarlet) tissue. Her sister was the most annoying being on the planet.



"What the hell are you talking about, Ka-RA?!" asked Lindsay viciously, dumping the blood-blotted tissue on the ruined carpet and checking her nose. She honestly had no idea why Kara was being so horrid. And what the heck was that piece of parchment she was holding in her hands so worriedly?



"You know exactly what I'm talking about, Lindsay," grimaced Kara, waving the letter around like a mad woman. Lindsay followed it with her eyes, watching the strange emblem at the top go back and forth, to and fro. "This!"



Kara mistook Lindsay's look of surprise for sarcasm. Lindsay misinterpreted Kara's determined face for another plot to get her in trouble; she knew all about the Oliver and basement issue...



"Yeah? What's that, then?" asked Lindsay grimly, holding out her hand, into which Kara placed the thin parchment. Her eyes scanned up and down the page as she read each word individually, eventually turning as confused as Kara was. What, the, and Hell were the only three words running around her head, along with a befuddled question mark that stalked the sentence. Looking up for a brief second, she saw Kara's scared, but satisfied, face, and reread the letter. And then she was happy.



"Kara, you idiot!" she giggled. Kara relaxed. This was proof it was her sister's doing. "You've gone ahead and got yourself into trouble with these freaky people for doing nothing! Now you're going away to some weirdo school and we'll be rid of you!" she smirked, and sounded pretty happy as she said it. Then she went pale, and her eyes focused on one single sentence. "Uh-oh," she gulped, "They're coming today, Kara. Mum and dad won't be at home. They won't know!"

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