Folksburywoods Story Blog

I sat in the head mistress’s off directly across from her. Like most witches, she wore a black hat and dress.

“I’m dreadfully sorry, Ms. MacKye, for knocking over the jar containing the howling souls. It was an accident,” I said in my most humble voice.

“Yes of that, I have no doubt. You’ll be happy to know that after searching ceaselessly all night, the staff finally caught the last one this morning before classes began,” said the headmistress.

“Oh, how wonderful for them. Have they recovered from the incessant moans yet?” I asked in earnest.

“Nurse Wayward gave them all a tonic, and they should be fine by supper this evening,” sighed the witch.

I looked down at the floor and fidgeted, not knowing what would happen next. “What to do with you, Agatha?” Ms. MacKye asked as she leaned over to examine my uniform more closely.

“I should put a name tag on that chair since you are using it quite a lot these days. I know you are bored, and your skills far surpass those of your classmates, and for that matter, the entire school and possibly a few professors,” winked the headmistress.

“I do my best to keep my head down, as you have often suggested. It’s hard to listen to those droll lectures from pompous old hacks who wouldn’t know talent if it bit them in the bum,” I said. Realizing my outburst, I looked up to see if I was going out the door and the school.

“Oh mercy,” laughed the headmistress. Ms. MacKye smiled and said, “I have not heard a more accurate critique of this school’s staff in a very long time.”

“I want to be my best, but I am constantly being boxed in by rules written for students who don’t possess my skills and insight into magic,” I told the headmistress.

“Quite right, Agatha, and because I once sat in that chair and told my headmistress the same thing, I am going to do what she did,” said Ms. MacKye.

“You were in trouble, too? What did she do?” I asked, confused.

“There is nothing this school can offer you, so as of today, Agatha Grimwell, you are now a witch first class with all the duties that implies,” said the headmistress.

“I graduated?” I stuttered.

“Yes, I will have Wilma draw up your diploma straight away. Now go pack. I need to write a letter of introduction to an old friend where you will apprentice. Oh, please try not to blow the place up. It took me a long time to replace those windows after I did,” said Ms. MacKye with a wry smile.

After I left the school, I worked hard to learn to be the best I could be and not let Ms. MacKye’s trust in me go to waste.

So, as I sit here in the headmistress chair, staring across my desk at a meek little girl who had just blown up the alchemy lab for the third time in as many weeks, I think it’s time to say the words said to me so long ago.

“There is nothing this school can offer you, so as of today, Cynthia Darkwing, you are now a witch first class with all the duties that implies.”

Perhaps in sixty years, she will be sitting in this seat, remembering her headmistress’s words as she decides the fate of a witch who knows more than the best of us.