2- Her concern

I wanted to glare at her, but the sweet look in her hazel eyes prevented me from conjuring any anger. "Better?" she asked. Her voice was clear and silky, like the way a plucked violin string paints a new note against the shell of your ear. I, for some reason, couldn't remember how to play my vocal cords. Instead, I nodded curtly.

She smiled and started to walk away. I watched her for a few seconds and then realised that she was not likely to return. I hurried to put on my shoes. I disregarded the uncomfortable slushing feeling of the wet soil caked to the bottom of my foot's sole as I slid my shoes on in a haste and rushed after her.

"Wait!" I called out after the mysterious girl. Perhaps she didn't hear me. I called after her again and still, she continued to walk. I was annoyed, frustrated, and confused, but above all else, I was intrigued. She looked confident and calculated as she manoeuvred over the rocky terrain easily, while I almost twisted my ankle on every stray stone. I was so focused on her hypnotic movement that I didn’t realise we had left the lake long behind us, and we were in fact in an area I didn't recognise. It looked almost eery and sullen compared to the vibrantly painted houses that populated the rest of our territory.

I followed her to a shabby metal Wendie-house with decorative beads and shells hanging in the entrance in place of a door. I felt rather out of place as I followed her into the quaint house. It dawned on me that she might not have realised I trailed her the entire way, so I cleared my throat to remind her that I was behind her. She looked over her shoulder and smiled at me sweetly. Phew. At least I didn't have to feel like a creep.

"Is this your place?" I asked as we entered a tiny kitchen with stained glass windows and exposed piping. I kept my critique to myself and followed her lead, sitting down at the tintable in the centre of the off-white tiled room.

She nodded her head and looked at me with a cocked head. Then she got up and started putting various herbs and extracts into a granite mortar. She made quick work of grinding up all the ingredients. She added what I can only hope is lemon juice before presenting me with some kind of pale drink. It smelt of sweet grass and rye. She smiled at me and motioned towards the cup. Not wanting to offend her, I gave her an awkward smile and brought the cup to my lips.

“Please don't be gross! Please don't be gross!” I prayed in my head.

To my surprise, the liquid was sweet. It has the feel of concentrated syrup with a somewhat grainy texture that raked over my tongue as I gulped it down. It was delicious.

I put the cup down and smiled brightly at her, thanking her enthusiastically. She smiled back.

"Better?" she asked again. I quirked my eyebrows at her question. At that exact moment, I felt a fizzy sensation spread over and throughout my entire body. I looked up at her with a shocked expression. My throat pulled stiff and all of my muscles tensed and fused and clutched at one another.

And then… relief. I felt my body relax, and I exhaled until all the tension floated away.

"How did …?" I gasped out at her. How did she do that? That drink was magic.

"It's med-sin. For you," she said shyly. Her short brown hair fell in front of her face like a curtain. I brushed it away with the tips of my finger before I could stop myself. She looked at me and I could see a faint blush paint her cheeks.

"How'd you know how to make it?" I asked curiously. She looked up at me with a dainty smirk and then giggled.

“What’s so funny?” I heard myself ask.

"You're funny," she laughed, but stopped when she saw my confusion, explaining herself with a single word; “Sangoma?”

She phrased it like a question. I was confused about what she meant. I’d heard the word in passing, but never really interacted with it. She took my hand into hers and looked at me.

"Come," she said simply, pulling me out of the chair without warning. I willed my feet to keep up to my own shoulder socket before it popped off. I'd laugh if it didn't hurt like a bitch. Nonetheless, I followed the pixie goddess as she took me further into her colourful house and towards a room that made me feel cold to the bones. When we walked into the darkroom with ritual symbols and scents attached to each corner, I immediately had a flashback to the first time I visited the seer at school. I was having bad dreams and they sat me down and peaked into my mind to paint faces on the demons that taunted me at night.

Witchcraft and sages in the Cape? What the fuck had happened while I was gone?

"My pa is 'n Sangoma. He taught me to make med-cin for people like you," she said, and it finally clicked. She wasn't a witch. She was the daughter of a witch doctor. Another thing dawned on me as I deflated in relief that instantly petrified my lungs. People like me. She knew what I was. Shit.

"So, you make healing serums for the community?" I asked, trying to play it cool. She shook her head. She moved towards me and placed her open palm on my chest. I felt her soft, warm skin melt onto mine. It felt overwhelming to be so close to someone from my own community. I felt a surge of emotion bubble up in my stomach and float to my head.

"You've orisha bloed," she asserted. I let my head fall in shame. I was ashamed, but a large part of me was afraid. This was the whole reason I left. My kind was not meant to live with normal people. We caused carnage wherever we went. This was it. She knew, and soon the rest of the village would know too. Nothing spreads faster than secrets. She moved her hand from my chest to my face and cradled it in her dainty palm. I let myself enjoy the warmth of the moment and eventually met her eyes.

"Please don't tell," I pleaded. My voice was small and childlike and pathetic, but I didn't care. I just needed a week. I wanted to be there for my brother's special day then I could disappear again. Just a week – that's all I needed. She smiled and put out her pinkie finger to me. I chuckled with lightheaded relief and gratitude and wrapped my nic-nac pinkie around hers. When she pulled away, I abruptly hugged her and whispered a teary thank you in her ear. I enjoyed her sweet scent of vanilla and morning dew.