Fiction Writing | Page 7

• I am a witch. A white witch to be exact. There are only a few of us that exist. Or that I know of. I have never met another white witch before. How do you tell who is a witch and who isn’t? My grandmother was going to teach me that, until she passed away. She passed away three months before the fire. Damon, the handsome stranger that came to my rescue that fatal day, has let me live with him. He is a white witch too. • • His whole family are white witches. Yeah, I almost choked on my dinner, when they told me. After dinner, they all took turns teaching me how to recognize another white witch versus a black one. The black ones as you can guess practice black magic. There’s a special stone that heats up, when you’re near another witch. If the stone turns white, you are safe. Because it’s a white witch. If it stays black, you better run! Black witch alert!