The Crystal Shop

“This one’s very nice,” I said, my pale hands grazing over a large amethyst crystal. “My father found it cave diving in Brazil.” I bit my lip, leaning my hips a bit over the counter. “Have you ever been there?”

“No, I haven’t.” The man in front of me didn’t seem too comfortable with my suggestive antics. “Do you have any that look like this but are pink?”

I ignored his question. “Neither have I. I would love to go, wouldn’t you? I’ve heard the skies are bluer than Heaven’s walls.” I leaned in just a bit farther over the counter, being able to reach his chest. “You seem like the type of man who could afford a business trip to the South American coast.” I winked at him. 

“I- I’m just looking for an…” He gulped, allowing me to walk my fingers up his chest. “An anniversary present. For my wife,” he finished, his breath coming in sharp, hitching, and going out shaky.

“Your wife’s not here now, is she?” I asked, both my hands on either side of his neck.

“N-no…” he stammered. Then he looked crossly at me. “Now miss, you mustn’t be over 18.” He took a step back from the counter and adjusted his dark blazer. “You can tell your boss I have taken my business elsewhere.” He glanced behind me as he made the previous comment, then looked me in the eye. He turned on his heel and left the store. 

I watched him leave. Once the door slammed shut I backed away from the counter and tilted my head. Here we go. I turned around, being met by an older fellow. My father. “What have I told you about driving away customers?” 

“Daddy, he’s a non-believer,” I explained, taking a few steps towards him.

“Non-believer,” he repeated. “I am tired of hearing that nonsense!”

“It’s not nonsense,” I tried to argue, but he just wasn’t having it today.

“Suzanna-May, if I hear one more word about non-believers or witch hunters or demons, you will not be allowed a job here anymore! That’s final!”

“You don’t mean that,” I began, but he kept going. This wasn’t the first time he claimed he was going to fire me, but maybe he finally had it this time.

“I understand your mother let you do whatever you pleased here, but…”

“Don’t drag mother into this!” My voice broke. I walked towards him quickly and pointed in his face. “She was killed by one of those demons!” 

He struck my face and my head swung to the side. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t think, I couldn’t do anything. I slowly turned my head back towards his, and he glared daggers of venom into my eyes. 

“Not another word,” he whispered to me, “get out of my shop.”

Upset, frustrated, angry, all I could do was scream. So I did. I screamed, stomped my foot, and threw my fists down. Something tickled my cheek and suddenly I couldn’t see clearly anymore. I ran to the door behind the counter, up the stairs, past all other doors, and threw myself into my room. The door slammed behind me, but I couldn’t care less. I leaped onto my bed and curled up, hugging my clean, silky pillow tight to my chest. I cried into it, wetting one part of it over time. Everything seemed to fade out after that. 

I awoke sometime later. I can’t seem to recall when I fell asleep, so there was no way of knowing how long I slept for. I sat up in my bed and looked around. My nose was stuffed and the spot on my pillow was still damp. I held it on my lap and looked at the altar at the center of the opposite wall to my bed, which I had made for my mother. I started to cry looking at her picture. 

“He doesn’t believe me, mom.” I sniffled between my sentences. “Just like he didn’t believe you.” Suddenly I cried like I had earlier. My mascara was probably all down my face now, especially since some had smeared onto my pillowcase. 

I let myself cry only for about a minute. When I looked back up I noticed the tan candles of my mother’s altar had lit themselves. I took a sharp breath in and looked around my room, looking for some other sort of sign. “Mother?” I looked back at the altar. Now the book I left there, which had been her grimoire, was open to a blank page. I placed the pillow at my side and got up from my bed. I went over to the altar, looking at the page. It started filling with some words in my mother’s handwriting. 

“Make...him...see…” I repeated each word I saw appear. My tenseness faded quickly, and a smirk snuck onto my face. “I know what to do. Thank you, mother.” 

I shut the book and turned to my dresser. I went over to it and pulled open one of the drawers. Inside were a bunch of my shirts, but beneath was a box. I removed the box and opened it, taking out a few items: A bag with a pentagram on the front, a bag of herbs, a black candle, a piece of loose paper, and a pack of matches. I shut the box and put it back in its rightful place. Then I took the items with me to my circle on the floor. 

Firstly I filled the bag with herbs. Then I lit the long black candle and carefully set it in a crystal holder on the floor. I let the wax begin to drip down as I took the next step. On the loose paper, I wrote my purpose with the nearest pen.

“All who be within this vicinity now be prone to see. He who kills is now your familiar. Non-believers beware…” I repeated it slowly. I took the candle and held it over the open bag, burning the paper. Ashes and wax drippings fell into the bag as intended. Once the paper completely burned, I put the candle back down and blew it out.

Anxiously now, I tied the bag tightly and held it in my palm. What was there to lose? The curse was sealed. I slipped the bag into my pocket and made my way back to the shop downstairs. Upon opening the door, I saw my father just finishing a transaction with a customer. Once the customer walked away, I started to walk towards him. 

“Daddy,” I spoke calmly, “I thought about what you said. You’re right, it’s nonsense and it drives your business out the door.” I fiddled with my hands in front of me. “Please give me another chance. This time I promise to bring in more business.”

I heard the bell of the door ring as another customer walked in. We both glanced over at her before looking back at each other. He stood tall and looked as professional as possible. “Alright, fine,” he said sternly, “no more talk of demons, understand?”

“I understand,” I responded proudly and grinned at him.

He walked just past me and patted my shoulder. “I’ll be in my office.”

I nodded at him and smiled with a deep breath. Once I knew he was gone, I walked over to the register. I glanced over to just make sure he wasn’t looking through the glass of the door, then I opened the drawer. I put the bag beneath the cash container, then shut the drawer again. 

“Looking for anything in particular?” I asked the customer, who didn’t seem to be looking too intently.

“No, just gazing.” She smiled at me.

I smiled back at her. “Well if you have any questions, I’m here to help.” I glanced at my father’s door, content with the curse.