My Broken Broom

Every time I passed the old, worn broom in the kitchen corner, I couldn't help but chuckle. It was never meant for sweeping; we had another broom for that task, and we were instructed to not touch it. I frequently pondered the significance of this particular broom, which my mother guarded as fervently as she did her children.

As I matured, my scrutiny of the broom intensified. I had questions, but my mother would either brush them off or change the subject whenever I broached the topic. The more I watched, the more I realized that the broom's exact position was always changing. It remained in the corner, but its orientation shifted. Eventually, I ceased my inquiries, not receiving the answers I sought.

On my sixteenth birthday, a milestone marking the transition to womanhood, my mother organized a celebration in my honor. I was excited and anticipated the day of the celebration. My mother had always told me, “You only turn sixteen once and this will be the best birthday you will ever have.” Every time she told me this she had a beaming smile on her face and seemed to glow as she spoke the words. The euphoria she created in that statement passed over to me causing me to become extremely happy with anticipation.

I had begun experiencing things that I could not explain, moving objects, making things change shape, changing the order of letters in words, and a few other minor things that made me a bit concerned. I thought about talking to my mother about them, but I simply dismissed it and went on doing what I was doing. I wasn’t hurting anyone or anything with these happenings, so I didn’t want to worry my mother about it. I tried focusing on my upcoming birthday to ignore the happenings and get through my days.

As the day grew closer more and more odd things began to happen. A black cat followed me home one day cocking its head side to side ever so often as if it were looking for something in my clothing. A black crow flew overhead on another day, again following me to my house. And then the spider in my room made a huge web in my window above my bed. I shooed them all away, making sure I removed every single strand of the spider's web before I threw it outside. I am not sure why I didn’t kill it considering I hate spiders and usually do, but I released it outside instead. I shook my head violently wondering why I would do such a thing as I watched it scurry away before I went back inside the house. My head was swimming with all the current events making it difficult for me to concentrate on schoolwork, but I attempted to as I sat down at the desk in my room. The letters on the page all seemed to swirl and lift off the page as they began to spin around in front of me. I tried to focus succeeding only in giving myself a headache. What was happening? I shook my head again trying to clear the vision watching as the letters settled back on the page. I slammed the book shut and walked downstairs to the kitchen.

I entered the kitchen my eyes going to the broom in the corner. It seemed to almost quiver as my eyes lingered on it. I quickly looked away going to the refrigerator to get a glass of milk. I opened the door and reached for the milk jumping back as what appeared to be a hand grabbed mine. I nearly dropped the milk, but I caught it turning to put it on the counter as I slammed the refrigerator door. I cracked it open to look inside seeing only the food that was within it and no creepy hand. Closing the door, I went to the cupboard to get a glass for my milk. Opening the cupboard door, I froze as maniacal laughter greeted me.

“Silia are you okay? You look like you have seen a ghost,” my mother's voice came from behind me. I couldn’t answer as I stood frozen with the cupboard door wide open. I was dreaming that was it. None of this was happening, I thought to myself as I slowly closed the cupboard door. I turned to look into my mother’s concerned face a confused, scared look in my eyes.

“Are you okay dear?” Her words reverberated in my head then I suddenly bolted past her and ran straight to my room. I slammed the door behind myself leaning heavily against it as everything that had happened reverberated in my head. I grabbed my head as I slid down the down to sit on the floor. Everything replayed in it circling around and around constantly bringing me back to the very first day these events started happening. I truly wondered what was happening to me as I held my head tight between my hands.

“Silia are you okay?” came her mother's voice from the other side of the door. It was muffled and distant as I buried my head in my hands. Voices reverberated in my head, words spinning around in front of my eyes as Mother knocked lightly on the door.

Tears rolled down my cheeks as I tried to ignore the voices and words. My hands weren’t working so I buried my face between my knees hoping for relief. The rough material of my jeans made me realize I wasn’t dreaming and what was happening was real.

“Silia?” Mother’s voice came to me again from the other side of the door as I heard the doorknob being turned followed by the door bumping my rear end. “Silia, let me in so we can talk.”

I didn’t want to talk I wanted it all to stop. The voices, the odd happenings, the strange objects and actions that couldn’t be explained, they all needed to stop! I felt like I was going mad or crazy with everything that had been happening.

I must have cried myself to sleep because I found myself in my bed with morning dawning through my window. I couldn’t remember putting on my pajamas, yet I was in them with a set of clothes laid neatly at the foot of my bed. I rubbed my eyes which were gritty from all the tears the night before then swung my legs over the side of the bed. I looked around my room trying to get my bearings knowing full well I had been sitting on the floor in front of my door the night before.

I looked at the outfit on the end of the bed, the shoes with the stocking neatly laid across them sitting next to the bed and the various ribbons and bows upon the dressing table. My brush lay neatly bristles up on the table next to a dozen ribbons. Colorful bows all sat in a room along the bottom of the mirror waiting to be chosen for decoration.

My feet slipped to the floor touching the shag rug next to my bed. I took another glance around the room and then rushed to the window to look out into the backyard. I gasped as I put my hand over my mouth at all the colorful balloons and streamers strung across the yard. Was today the day? Had it come? Was it finally the day my mother had told me she was looking forward to it? Was it my birthday?

I spun around in a circle, took one last look into the backyard then moved to the outfit on the foot of the bed. I ran my hand down the soft material admiring the frills and bright colors. A dark purple base held the brighter colors together as they were laid over the top of it. The bodice was white down the center with purple laces going back and forth across it ending in a bow that met the full skirt. The skirt was purple lace over a white underlay that had several laces running up the length of the skirt to tie into the wide purple sash that went all the way around the dress. The stockings were black fishnet that accented wide healed purple shoes although not too wide. No stiletto type-heal as it sloped gently to meet the bottom of the shoe.

She walked to the dressing table, grabbed the brush, and ran it through her hair as she scanned the ribbons and bows. Her fingers reached out to touch a dark purple satin bow gently caressing it. The ribbons slipped through her fingers as if they were long strands of hair. She sat on the plush stool looking at herself as she brushed her hair. She loved her long raven black hair as it flowed down her back and across her shoulder as it fell through the brush. It sparkled and glistened as the light touched it making little blue highlights jump to life. She replaced the brush just as her mother came into the room.

“Morning Silia,” her mother's voice seemed to ring with tinkling bells as she spoke to her. I looked in her direction as she continued, “Ready for the big day? Not every day a young lady turns sixteen.” She sat a plate of bagels and cream cheese on the table as she grabbed the comb to start styling my hair. I lost track of time as I munched on the bagels and mother worked on my hair. Before I knew it, she had finished and had turned me to apply my makeup. She turned me so I could admire how I looked which filled me with joy. The brightly colored ribbons were intertwined in my hair with the large purple bow sitting neatly on top of my head holding them all together. I gasped slightly not thinking the girl looking back at me from the mirror was me, but I was excited just the same. Next Mother helped me slip into the dress making sure it didn’t catch any of the ribbons or bows or mess up the makeup that had been applied. The stockings and shoes completed the outfit bringing out a different young lady than I was used to.

I stared at myself in the mirror turning from side to side to take in all that I had become. My hair flowed with many colored ribbons through it falling neatly down my back to capture the lighting in the room. The dress fit perfectly meeting the stockings just below the knees which connected to the healed shoes. I rarely wore heels, but seeing this side of myself I began to wonder if I shouldn’t wear them more.

We spent the day shopping in the huge mall we had in our town then returned just in time to have dinner served for us. The secret was out because I had seen the decorations in the backyard but that didn’t mean I couldn’t act surprised when we moved into the backyard. They blindfolded me and helped me out into the yard through the sliding glass doors. I thought it was foolish; I was only turning sixteen, but mother insisted. Once we were in the backyard, they removed the blindfold so I could see all the wonderful decorations. I was so surprised to see all my aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews, and cousins there I almost burst into tears. It seemed a bit odd for everyone in my family to come to a birthday party, but I wasn’t going to question it. The presents were opened, and then cake and ice cream were served before we all gathered together to catch up on each other's lives. It was the happiest birthday I had ever had.

As we all were talking my mother said she had to clean up and disappeared into the house. I stood to join her, but my father stopped me saying it was my special day and not to worry about helping her. I looked in the direction of the house and then sat back down. I listened to the others talk not hearing a thing they said. I noticed a small animal scurry across the deck looking for morsels of food, so I watched him a moment. Suddenly the small creature jumped in my direction turning into a black cat as they did. I nearly jumped out of my skin as it lunged at me and then landed on my lap.

“Edward stop you are scaring the daylights out of her!” Aunt Remina retorted as she snatched the black cat and shooed it off in the opposite direction. I moved away its head hung like it were pouting then it was gone. “Sorry, Silia he likes to play games.” Aunt Remina smiled broadly as she made her announcement. Who was Edward? I didn’t remember having any cousins named Edward.

I didn’t get the opportunity to ponder the subject as my mother burst out of the house yelling, “Oh no its broken! How can it be broken?” She held the old, tattered broom in her hands like a hurt child, tears streaming down her face. She came straight to me thrusting it into my hands stating, “You can fix it Silia, I know you can. Fix it, my dear!”

I stared at the broom pieces in my hand as everyone stared at me. I thought about casting it aside on the ground thinking this was some sort of cruel joke, but something inside me stopped me. The broom had been ever faithful over the years, standing in the corner, what if I could fix it? I put the pieces where they should have been laying them in my lap and ran my hand over them thinking about what the broom had always looked like. Back and forth I went several times hoping I wasn’t making a total fool of myself. After several passes with no results, I sat holding the broom on my lap feeling a lot like a fool for being caught in Mother’s game. Suddenly the pieces began to quiver then the broom jumped back together as it seemed to stand at attention next to me.

“You did it!” Everyone cheered raising their hands and chanting happily. I stared at the broom amazed at what had happened thinking about all the things that had been happening over the past few weeks. Fireworks began exploding in the air even though there were none in our backyard.

“Happy birthday Silia,” said Mother as she took my arm and gently pulled me to my feet. “I have a confession to make, I am a witch and so are you. When you turned sixteen you became a true witch. All you had to do was fix the broken broom.” I stared at Mother in awe realizing all the things that had happened were leading up to this one day when I would step into being a true witch. I was so stunned I didn’t know what to do. Mother gave me a gentle hug and told me we would work on getting my abilities stable and learning to use the broom. I could have sworn I saw the broom smile when my mother said that.