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Updated on August 10, 2015

My right hand hovers over the wet toothbrush, and I concentrate on the mechanics of it; the water molecules encasing the bristles, and each atom within. I peek through a slit eyelid… Has it changed yet? This is so much harder than just freezing water. Water is meant to freeze. Toothbrushes? Not so much. And yet, frosty crystals envelop it completely. I jump out of my crouch and fist-pump the air in pride.

I’ve been a witch for a little while now, and no one knows except my grandma. Somehow the gene skipped my mom; grandma says that’s normal for it to skip generations. So, she has been teaching me minor spells in secret for me to practice while my parents are out of the house.

My phone began singing its ringtone on the bed, so I run over and hit the answer button.


“Jess, something’s happened to your dad,” She says quickly in a panic, “He’s frozen! He looks like he’s been in an icebox for years, and he won’t snap out of it. I don’t know what’s going on. We’re just standing here in the middle of the park. People are starting to stare, and –“

“Alright mom, calm down, OK?” Crap crap crap crap crap. This is my fault. I stare down at the toothbrush I froze and realize it’s blue. Dad’s toothbrush. Crap. “Mom, don’t worry. I’ve got this.”

“What do you mean you’ve got this! He’s FROZEN! For all I know he could be dead! What are you gonna do? Bring a hair dryer to heat him up?”

“Mom, don’t be silly. The park doesn’t have power outlets. Get it together. I gotta go.” I end the call and toss my phone on the bed.

Grandma taught me an unfreezing spell, but I’ve never had to do it before. I now realize how stupid I was to not only fail to practice the counter to this freezing spell, but to also do the freezing spell on someone’s toothbrush, which obviously has a person’s DNA all over it, therefore linking it to that person. I’ve now realized I’m a world-class idiot.

OK, focus Jess. I place both of my hands palm-side down above the toothbrush on the carpet, and exhale as I concentrate on the spell. I muster up all of my energy and direct it to the tips of my fingers for the release of power. But it didn’t work. Try harder! I exhale again, focusing on the now frozen molecules around the toothbrush and imagine them melting away in my mind. Energy surges through my palms, and I peek through my eyelid again.

I sigh in relief. It melted. Thank God. I quickly pick up the toothbrush and run it into the bathroom where I found it. About twenty minutes later, my mom calls back in hysterics, “He’s melted! Jessica! You’re father’s an ever loving puddle on the ground! What the hell did you do?!”

I sigh. Time to call grandma.

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