She should have known the marriage wouldn't last. They had been so young and idealistic. They truly believe that love could bridge the gap between their two religions. But from the very beginning, she had felt his reluctance to accept her beliefs. Even though she had said nothing when he put up the Christmas tree, he had been very annoyed when she lit her candles. Eventually she totally abandoned the rituals she had known so well as a child.
Once the children were born, Bill had insisted that Jonathan be Baptized and Sarah two years later. When she'd try to teach them some of her own beliefs, he'd fought with her until she finally gave up. So it was no surprise when he'd ask for the divorce and tried to win custody. It had been a difficult time, but in the end the Judge had renewed her faith in the Bill of Rights and she had won.
Now, standing in front of a strange new house with her two young children, Rachel was both excited and apprehensive. The movers finished unloading the truck, took their money and left. Jonathan and Sarah busied themselves unpacking and exploring, while Rachel went into the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee. She looked at the old worn box the movers had left on the table. Opening it slowly, she began unwrapping the items that had been hidden from light for more than a decade. The polished candlesticks were still shinny, the prayer book was almost new. She tried to read the strange alphabet, and was pleased to discover she still could understand the words.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden chill that passed through the room. She heard her children scream and the lights flickered. She dropped the coffee and ran into the living room. Furniture was flying everywhere. Ghosts were circling the room menacing Jonathan and Sarah who were sitting in the middle of the floor. They had their arms wrapped tightly around each other, their eyes were shut tight.
"Mommy, make them stop!" Sarah's screams rose above the sound of breaking glass.
Rachel ran to her children and picked them up in her arms. She carried them into the kitchen where dishes were crashing out of the cupboards. She sat the children down on the floor and emptied the remaining contents of the box onto the table. Rachel pulled out a large black robe and put it on over her clothes.
The sound of the spirits were getting closer. Rachel reached into the pocket of her robe and took out a small dagger. She held the point towards the ground and began to draw an imaginary line around herself and her children. The instant she returned to her starting point, the dishes were still.
"You'll be safe inside the circle," she told her children, "I'll be right back."
Rachel walked into the living room and pointed the dagger towards the ghosts and said in a cloud clear voice "I am Rachel, High Priestess of Nibor. My power is far stronger than yours. I command you to leave my home and never return."
A dead silence was followed by ghostly moans as the furniture began moving back to where it had originally been placed. Ten minutes later, all signs of supernatural activity had ceased. Rachel put the dagger into her pocket and smiled. For the first time in too many years, she felt the strength and power of her religion. The power of her Wiccan faith. She returned to the kitchen, took off her robe, and picked up the book.
"Come on kids." She said to her children. "I have a lot to explain to you and even more to teach you." She began to read. "In the beginning there was the Goddess......"