Once upon a time Camila wouldn’t have ever dreamed over going into the woods all on her own. She was smarter than that, thank you very much. She knew damn well that people who went out into the woods all by themselves didn’t always return, and under no circumstances would she ever be one of those people. But after finding out that she was a witch... Well, what exactly did she have to worry about? Besides, she needed a quiet, isolated place to practice her magic. A place where no one would be snooping around. From what she’d gathered, the brand of magic she’d planned on practicing tonight wasn’t exactly approved of.
It wasn’t like she was bringing back the dead or sacrificing a goat or something, but Camila wasn’t going to take the chance of someone catching her and... Well, shit, she didn’t know what anyone would actually do to her. Or if they’d do anything at all. But she wasn’t going to take the chance nonetheless, which meant hiking out into the woods until she finally reached a point where she felt secluded. The woods were noisier than she expected. Leaves rustled, bugs chirped, animals darted to and fro. But the isolation was eerie, if she was honest. So she quickly knelt to the ground and got to work.
From the backpack she’d slung around her shoulders Camila pulled out a few candles, a small knife, and a lighter. Camila took the final item from her bag slowly, almost reluctantly. A part of her was hesitant, afraid of what she was about to do. But there was a smoldering, suffocating anger deep in her gut that pushed her forward. The kind of anger that began as agony. The kind of anger that didn’t fade over time. The anger of a child abandoned by their own mother. A picture of her mother was gripped tightly in Cam’s hands. She stared at it for a few seconds, eyes filling with hot, hateful tears. “You deserve this.” The words were barely a whisper, lost in the noises of the night.
Her spell was relatively simple. At least in theory. All she had to do was light a candle, say a few words, burn a picture. Simple, right? Sucking in a deep breath, Camila focused on settling her heat beat. She had no reason to be nervous or unsure. She’d researched this spell for weeks now, and she knew every step by heart. She would make no mistakes tonight. This spell would work... If the strength of it didn’t kill her first. She knew jack shit about dark magic. There weren’t too many people she talked to that were willing to give her all the details she wanted, so she’d taken to figuring it out for herself. Which meant finding a hex online, quizzing a few fellow witches about how realistic it was, and then gathering all the things she’d need to cast it.
There was a time in her life where she’d never dream of hexing her mother, never dream that it was possible. But she wasn’t the same little girl that she used to be. She was a witch. And isn’t this exactly what witches did when they were wronged? Lighting the candles quickly, Camila placed them all around her. She only needed one, or so her spell said, but she’d brought more to hopefully give her more energy. The black candle was placed directly in front of her, its flame casting a warm glow on her face. After steadying herself, taking a single moment to just breathe, Camila finally began the spell. She took the knife and cut a small incision into her thumb. Just a few drops of blood was all she needed. As she held her fingers above the candle, the flame began to grow. Her blood made an almost sickening sizzle as it fell into the flames. Words poured from her mouth, voice still pitched into a low whisper. Despite the incantation being a mouthful, it wasn’t hard for her to memorize. It flowed from her lips easily as she took the photo and held it above the flames.