You're magic. Don't ever apologize for the fire in you.
-Unknown

• • •

'I'm over a hundred years old. I was born in 1802 actually. I was an apprentice to one of your ancestors.' I stated, beginning what was more or less the story of my cursed existence.

'My what?' His eyebrow shot up.

What kind of idiot doesn't know what "ancestor" means? What in heaven's name did he use his brain for besides texting and being a general idiot, both of which I was sure didn't require a lot of brainpower.

Rolling my eyes to the heavens, I let out a exasperated sigh and then proceeded to explain it to him. 'Your ancestor. That just means your great great...'

'I know what ancestor means.' He cut in indignantly, an embarrassed flush making it's way up his neck.

'Then why did you ask?' I asked peevishly, restraining the urge to roll my eyes.

'I didn't! It was just. . . . an exclamation.' He answered, finally finding the right word.

The look I shot him made it clear just how stupid I thought his "exclamation" was.

'Then don't exclaim next time.' I snapped, ignoring the peeved look he gave me in response.

He gritted his teeth, clenching his jaw so hard I was almost worried for his molars. But then again, maybe a toothless Gavin would be good thing. If nothing else, it would lessen some of that overbearing self-confidence.

'Anyway, she was a bitch.' I stated dryly, making sure to meet his gaze before I added; 'She got you and I cursed.'

I knew Gavin so well that I already knew what his reaction would be even before he did it. The idiot was just too arrogant to believe that something, anything in his life was less than.

He scoffed before shooting me a suspicious look like I had somehow lost my mind in the last five minutes that we'd been talking.

Better believe it, buddy.

'I'm cursed.' He echoed, scrunching up his face like it was the dumbest thing he had ever heard which I highly doubted, considering all the stupid that usually poured out of his mouth.

'Yes, idiot.' I rolled my eyes. 'Just shut up and listen.'

Looking more amused than worried, he motioned for me to continue with the story, grabbing a pillow to make himself more comfortable. It was ridiculous really and just a little infuriating the way he was acting like this was some fascinating made-up story. Like I was his nanny tucking him in with a bedtime story.

Please give me patience, I prayed to no one in particular, fisting my hands at my side to avoid reaching for his neck.

'Your ancestor was a bad person and I was her apprentice.' I said haltingly, mentally bracing myself for a blow. A part of me -the part that had spent the last two hundred years plagued by post traumatic stress disorder- was just waiting for something to go wrong like it always did whenever Marge Tituba was involved. It was stupid but I was waiting for an invisible force to strike me for so much as mentioning her name.

I didn't realize I had squeezed my eyes shut until Gavin called out; 'Yoo-hoo. You still in there?', waving his hands in front of my face like I was some exciting new exhibit at the zoo.

My eyes snapped open, annoyance colouring my features as I glared at him, while internally struggling to regain composure of my emotions. It was infuriating to discover that after all this time, she still had that kind of effect on me.

Great. Just great. 200 years and you're still cowering at the sound of her name. Nice going Edna. Aren't you just the bravest?

Giving myself a mental shake, I forced myself to focus on continuing the story only to discover Gavin staring at me suspiciously.

'What?' I asked curtly.

He looked around the room, looking left then right in a way that had me also glancing around, before answering; 'When you say apprentice, do you mean. . .,' he paused for a moment, giving me an unsure look. 'She was a witch?'

I stared at him, waiting for a punchline that wasn't coming. He was being perfectly serious which only made it so much worse. He really is a special kind of stupid.

'What else could I possibly mean? That she was a seamstress?' I scoffed, wrinkling my nose in irritation. 'Who the bloody hell gets cursed for stitching two pieces of fabric together? Of course she was a witch!'

'It was just a question.' He mumbled petulantly, rolling his eyes for effect.

I refrained from pointing out that it was a stupid question.

'One of your ancestors was a witch.' I started from the beginning again, making sure to be very clear so he wouldn't have any more stupid questions since he clearly couldn't fill in the gaps on his own. 'I was her apprentice. She was a bad witch and I was a mischievous apprentice and all was good until she decided she had to be the most powerful witch.' I sneered at the vivid memory of how it had all gone wrong so fast because of one woman's greed and hunger for power. Damn you, Marge Tituba, damn you to hell.

Forcing myself out of the unpleasant memory, I continued the story. This time careful not to let my emotions get the better of me.

'She stole a very powerful artefact and she used it for evil. I was her apprentice so I helped her. You can't exactly blame me. It's in the job description. And that got both of us cursed but your sneaky evil douchebag of a great great grandmother was powerful enough to deflect the spell. To you. So now you're carrying her curse. And she cursed me to live like this. . . ghost until you undo the spell.'

We stared at each other in silence for a minute, then two before Gavin finally opened his big mouth.

'Yeah right.' He scoffed, oozing of just a tad too much arrogance. 'I'm not cursed. I'm captain of the football team. I've got three football scholarships lined up for me even though I don't need them. Because I'm just that good. All the girls think I'm hot. My life is perfect and I'm very far from being "cursed".' He added, with air quotes for emphasis.

For a moment I just stared at him blankly, waiting for the punchline so I could start laughing and mentally going over his statement in case I had somehow missed it. He confidently met my gaze without blinking and with a start, I realized he was being 100 percent serious. You have got to be kidding me, was my first thought.

'Wow. Well done. Bravo, Bravo, you... You have definitely made it in life. We common men can only worship at your feet and hope the gods are merciful unto us.' I drawled caustically, applauding him and rolling my eyes.

As if being cursed wasn't hard enough. I was stuck with not just a perfect asshole but a completely idiotic and vain perfect asshole. Thanks a lot universe.

I rolled my eyes to Mars and back, carefully considering my next words, hoping that it would have the desired effect.

'Why do you think you can see me when no one else can?' I asked, working to hide my smirk when a panicked expression flickered onto his face. Bull's eye!

The look was gone almost as fast as it had come as he adopted an uninterested look but it didn't matter. I had already planted a seed of doubt.

'Well...' He trailed off hesistantly, no doubt trying to think of a plausible explanation for it.

'What? No smartass answer for that one?' My smirk grew wider.

Off the top of my head, I could think of a few reasons;
A. It was you and my ancestor that got involved in whatever you did and that's why I can see you.
Or b. I'm just special and far superior to the average person and that's why I can see you when no one else can.

Reason b even sounded like something he would come up with if he any useful brain cells left. It reeked of the same overbearing self-confidence that was his natural stench. For once, I was grateful for his lack of working brain cells.

'Uhmm...'

'What? Cat got your tongue?' I inquired mockingly, cocking my head to the side.

'No.' He glared at me.

'You're cursed sweetie. Just like me.' I summed without flair.

'I'm not cursed.' He growled. 'The only problem I have is some two hundred year old ghost who doesn't want to stop stalking me and go to hell where she belongs.'

My eyes narrowed, anger spiking in my veins. 'You think this is fun for me?' I asked in a low growl.

He shot me a blank stare as if to say; isn't it?

'I'm cursed!' I yelled, throwing my hands up in frustration. 'To remain seventeen forever unless one of her descendants, that's you by the way, has enough common sense to lift the curse and just because the universe hates me, it chose the biggest jerk of the twenty first century!'

I took two threatening steps forward so I was towering over him. He visibly flinched, leaning back onto the bed to put more distance between us.

'No one except this fool can see me.' I continued, glaring at him as fiercely as I could and ticking the points off as I made them. 'I can't do anything other than exist as a ghost. Till the curse is broken that is. Even then, I don't know what is going to happen to me. All I can do is hope it's better than this!' I paused long enough to drag in a breath before continuing, my eyes blazed with anger though I was more sad than angry.

'There's no more normal for me. My time was over two hundred years ago. Everyone I knew and cared about is dead, yet here I am. In some strange balance between life and death and it's all thanks to your great great grandmother! So if for one second you thought this was fun or some kind of joke, you could not be more wrong!' I yelled.

I didn't need a mirror to know my face was as red as a tomato but it felt good to get it out there. Finally, after two hundred years, I was able to pour my frustrations out to someone who could hear me. Someone who was currently staring at me with wide eyes like I was about to go full cave woman and attack him.

I scoffed mentally. The rant had taken a lot out of me. I was struggling to catch my breath. I couldn't attack him even if I wanted to.

'First, you've got some serious baggage and second, I am not cursed.' He replied, safe in the knowledge that I wasn't going to attack him like a rabid dog.

'Then how do you explain the tattoo on your chest that keeps getting bigger?' I asked, playing the last card I had. If he still didn't believe me after this, then I would have to find a different and quite possibly unpleasant way to convince him.

'How do you know about that?' He asked apprehensively, his hand going to cover the spot where it was.

At this point, I just rolled my eyes.

'Really?' I arched an eyebrow, adopting a sardonic expression. 'The tattoo is connected to the curse, idiot. The closer I am..., we are to breaking the curse the smaller the tattoo gets. Until it's completely gone. That's when I'll be free.'

'You're insa---' His phone rang cutting of the rest of his statement.

'Hello.... Yes.... What?.... Why?' He eyed me carefully as he listened to whoever was on the other end of the phone call. I glared back, tapping my feet impatiently as I waited for him to be done so we could get back to the discussion.

It registered in a part of my mind that the fate of my existence, basically my entire life, was being put on hold for a phone call that was most likely unimportant and stupid.

Is this really what I've been reduced to?

'But.... How though? I thought we covered that already.... Fine. Bye.' He muttered, violently flinging the phone onto the bed.

He shot me a dirty look like whatever news he just received was somehow my fault.

I kind of wished it was.

'What?' I asked, arching a brow.

'Nothing.' He growled.

'It's obviously something. You look like a constipated pig.'

'One of my soccer scholarships just withdrew their offer.' He grunted.

I smirked. 'Like I said, you're cursed.'

At the same time he yelled, 'I am not cursed!'

'Keep telling yourself that, lad.' I grinned, flaunting a confidence I didn't truly possess. If I could keep this up, he would believe all I had said. If things could just continue like this, I'd be golden.

He shot me a look filled with disgust.

His phone beeped and he glanced at the screen. A frown soon took over his face.

'What now?' I asked, enjoying this way too much.

'Are you doing this?' He glared at me.

'No. I'm not.' I beamed sunnily. 'I mean if I could, I would considering what your ancestor did to me but I can't. I've only been able to do small harmless spells since I was cursed. Nothing major.' I shrugged, examining my fingernails like they were suddenly the most important thing in the world.

I finally understood why girls of this century did this. It got me the exact reaction I was hoping for. Steam might as well have been pouring out of Gavin's ears because of how angry he looked.

Just then, his phone beeped with an incoming message. He glanced at me before picking up his phone and reading it aloud; 'Head's up. Coach found out about the linebacker.'

Angry but determined brown eyes turned to me.

'How the hell do I get rid of this curse?' He growled.

My lips split open in a wide smile.

Now you're talking.

I was profusely grateful to whatever higher power controls the universe -something I haven't been grateful to in the past 100 years- for timing whatever crap that was currently happening to Gavin in sync with my "you're cursed" speech. It had really made my job a whole lot easier.

And then he burst into laughter.

Did I miss something?

My eyebrow crept up on my face. 'Are you losing your mind?' I asked tentatively, a frown marring my face. 'Look, being cursed isn't that bad. Not enough to push you over the edge at least. I've been cursed for the past two hundred years and I'm doing just fine. Sort of.'

His laughter increased so much that he was wiping tears from his eyes. I was officially worried. An insane Gavin would be harder to manage which basically meant I'd be cursed for longer than I planned. Now that I knew there was finally a way out, I already impatient to get it over with. I definitely couldn't live like this for much longer, crazy or not.

'Seriously, being cursed isn't this bad.' I gestured to his shoulders which were shaking with mirth.

'You must think I'm so stupid.' He managed to choke out.

I frowned, worrying my lower lip between my teeth as I tried to figure out what his question was getting at.

'Well, yeah. I've said so. Several times. What made you finally realize it?' I replied truthfully.

'I know I'm not cursed. You said so yourself.' He finally stopped laughing.

'I did no such thing!' I replied instantaneously, glaring at him.

To think I was concerned about his mental health a second ago. Only for him to open his mouth and spew utter nonsense.

'Yeah, you did. When you thought I couldn't see or hear you. You wouldn't shut up about how unfair it is that you're cursed and I'm not when I'm the one who deserves to be cursed.' He smirked.

My nose started twitching again. He took it as a sign of victory.

If looks could kill, he'd be joining his ancestors for an eternity in hell right now.

There's no denying I said that. A couple of times. Maybe a few hundred.

Oh no. What have I done now?

'Yeah. You weren't expecting that right?' He smirked.

I fumed silently. It was my turn to have imaginary steam coming out of my ears.

'Good luck with your 200 year old curse though.' He smirked, waving his cellphone at me before walking out of the room.

All I could think was:
I'll kill him. I will kill him! I will crush him to death. Then I'll strangle his smashed carcass and repeatedly stab whatever is left of him. Someone hand me a spike!