Wizard's Window

Damn, that spell nearly struck me. I am running for my life at this point, past the old witch’s hut, I'm glad the old crone isn’t out there to curse me as I rush by. I think the dark wizards might end up killing me.

“Pfft like hell.” I mutter to myself.

I run into the giant mushroom forest, the smell of mycelium fills the air, the cold stillness of the musty air is surreal. My recognition on the smells of mushroom forest is interrupted when a spell strikes me, a spell that for some reason sounds like an alarm clock.

Awaking I smack my alarm clock.

“It was only a dream.” I say frustratingly.

That all too regular 7:00am illuminates from my alarm clock. For a moment I sit there lying in my bed, staring at my ‘Harry Potter: Goblet of Fire’ poster on the wall, contemplating the utter misery my mundane life is. Why doesn’t magic exist in this boring world?

“Breakfast is ready!” my mother beckons.

Magic may not exist, but bacon is a close second. I run down the creaky, old, wooden stairs to find the familiar sight of my dad, sitting at the table reading his paper, sipping away at his coffee. My apron-brandishing mother rushes around the kitchen placing food on the table.

“Excited for your school field trip son?” my father enquires.

“Not really, if I am being honest” I reply.

“Why not? It’s a museum for magic! You love magic.” my mother says over-excitably.

“Well for a start, magic sadly does not exist in this world. Secondly, I could be doing so many other fun things, rather than sight-seeing pseudo-history.”

“You’re not a normal fifteen-year-old boy, are you?” my dad says rhetorically.

The bus trip from the school to the Museum is perhaps the longest, most boring trip I have ever been on, and I have been on cross-country road trips. This is definitely, the most pointless waste of time in the history of the space time continuum. I guess I should properly introduce myself; my name is Abraham, and I am what most annoying people would call a pessimist. My 15 years of mundane existence is so tediously boring that if I told it to you, I am certain you would stop reading immediately.

“Alright students, we have arrived!” my teacher shouts.

“Ahh at last, let’s get this over with” I say under my breath.

A rusty old sign rests atop this decrepit looking building, spelling “Salem Magical Museum”. However, this building looks far from magical. After being basically herded into the museum’s main entrance, the teacher gives a stern warning.

“Now students, you can look at any of the sites you would like to, but DON’T break anything, the school could hardly afford this trip, let alone a bill because of your insolence.” The teacher barks.

A particular exhibition catches my eye. An alleged “Wizard’s hut”. As I approach the hut the air is still, its quiet, too quiet. I look behind me, not a single person or student for as far as the eye can see.

“Huh, that’s odd, could have sworn there was people behind me.”

As I enter, weird smells begin to invade my nostrils, a smell similar to that of the mushroom forest in my dream. The air is ice cold. Dust particles stand frozen in time. Potions and Cauldrons are all that is to be seen apart from a fake ‘magical tome’ on a table. However, I am most curious about a peculiar window.

“Did someone just move past that window?” I questioned.

As I start to question my own sanity, I slowly creep toward the window, my heart beating louder and faster with every step closer. The hairs on my neck begin to stand up when there it is. Absolutely amazing. Through this window you can observe, people with wands and staves, people engrained in books, books I can only assume are magical tomes. I can’t resist, I absolutely must jump through this window.

The moment I jump through the window I am teleported to a random room, a room that looks like a refurbished version of the room I was just in.

“Damn must have been my imagination then.” I say disappointingly.

“But it isn’t my dear boy” says a mysterious voice.

I look into the corner of the room and see a tall man. This man has hair so red that a person could easily mistake it for a flame atop his head. His eyes, bluer than the Atlantic. He wears a long black gown and has a mysterious aura to him, like he is much older than what meets the eye.

“It’s been a while since an other-worldman was able to enter through my window portal.”

What?! That house was said to be a thousand years old, then… then this dude is ancient.

“Haha, I most certainly am dear boy. Don’t seem concerned, mind reading magic is one of the few benefits of being quote-on-quote ‘ancient’.” chuckles the ominous man.

“Sorry, sir… I… I… I’m just shocked is all” I say nervously. 

“Well then, I am going to ask you the same question I ask all other-worldmen. Stay and study magic or return to your world?” Asks the mysterious Man.

I don’t regret my choice. Well, I mean, it’s not every day a 1000 year old man asks if you want to study magic. Of course, I would say yes. Well, that was a long time ago now. During my study at the magical academy, I found myself in a fierce magical academic rivalry with a girl named Tvesa. She was right as rain and simply magical (no pun intended). If someone told me during our rivalry that we would end up marrying, I would have laughed in their face. We both graduated top of the class, after that, we had nothing to rival each other over, so naturally we fell in love. We welcomed our first child, a boy, to this magnificent world. I still remember what I said to her that day.

“So, this is magic” I cried.

The child had her fire-brand hair and deep blue eyes. Although I should probably say that those traits belong more so to her father, than her (the mysterious man I first met when entering this world). But now I lie here, next to my beautiful Tvesa, surrounded by my now elderly friends and gorgeous family. My grandchildren running around, oblivious as to what is happening to their grandparents. Tvesa fades away first, the once beautiful life that once had me awe-stricken disappears before my very eyes. My time is coming, sooner than expected too.

“So, this is magic. Magic isn’t some mythical concept; it exists in every world. Its romance, family and friends, I only wish I realised this sooner” I say in my now fading voice.

My eyes lids grow heavy and begin to start slowly closing. I let myself fade away and greet death like an old friend.