Portable Magic

By Saidah Vassell

Portable Magic is a collection of short stories varying in genre. It varies from fairy tales to love stories to stories about discovering who you are. It is simply about getting lost in another world, over and over again

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jul 25, 2015
• ISBN: 9781503577046

Saidah Vassell

Saidah Vassell is a nineteen year old girl who loves stories. She has been creating stories ever since she could write. Even as a child, she’d create entire worlds and characters for her toys. Her dream has always been to publish something of her own. She lives in Ontario, Canada and hopes to be able to publish more of her work someday.

Book preview

Portable Magic

Saidah Vassell

Copyright © 2015 by Saidah Vassell.

Library of Congress Control Number:        2015909796

ISBN:                  Hardcover                          978-1-5035-7706-0

                            Softcover                            978-1-5035-7705-3

                            eBook                                 978-1-5035-7704-6

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 08/24/2015

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Table of Contents

Thinking Sideways

A Magical Life

Behind the Scenes

Thank the Queen

Fated

Sadness

Silence

Chasing a Butterfly

Love

Passion

The Secret Message

Steve the Savage

Celebrate the Night

One Step at a Time

Love Lost

MyGurl

Steve the Savage Reprised

The Others

Farewell Kiss

Feel

Forever and Always

Love Found

For The First Time

Since Forever

Happiness

My Walls

Define Me

Unwanted

Hope

Today

The Place Where Dreams Are Made

Garden of Memories

Once Upon

The Silent Princess

The Castle of Dreams

Mystery

Abnormal

Harlow

True art is characterized by an irresistible urge in the creative artist.

- Albert Einstein

Thinking Sideways

There are no facts, only interpretations. — Friedrich Nietzsche

A Magical Life

They just disappeared one day without a trace. My poor children.

My husband and I never really stayed home much. We were the type of couple that thrived in the night life. If there was an event that needed to be attended: galas, balls, festivals, you name it, we’d be there. And it is because of that that we just didn’t have time for the kids. That’s why we got them a nanny, you see. She could take care of them when we couldn’t. She wasn’t there to replace us per se but she could do everything we couldn’t do for our children like, for instance, being present during their lives.

We tried hard for them, though. We bought them dozens of gifts, we even bought them a lovely dog named Nana. We soon fired the nanny after the purchase of the dog because little Michael began calling her mom but that’s not the point. The point is we tried our best for those children and what happened was just so devastating.

Mr. and Mrs. Darling, the car is here to take you to the party. Our butler had said.

Now, children, be good. My husband told them. Nana will watch you but Wendy, you’re in charge.

Why can’t I be in charge? John had complained. That little, witted boy, he always had a question for everything.

And Wendy, my husband continued, ignoring John make sure John and Michael make it to bed on time. Understand?

Yes, papa. My angel. My little angel.

George, we must be going if we are to make it on time. I told him.

Of course, Mary. Goodbye children. And we hugged them all and we said goodnight.

I always regret leaving that night. I regret it to my very bone. I regret firing the nanny and I regret leaving my poor babies alone because when we got home that night, they were gone. Their bedroom window was open and there was no sign of them. We called the authorities of course but what good were they? They didn’t bring my children back!

For months they searched. They searched high and low, we made sure of it! They searched the valley, they searched the city, they searched the forest, and they searched the parks. They searched the corners, they searched the alleys, they searched the market, and they searched the plaza. We had them scour the entire country but my children were nowhere to be found.

The police asked us questions like if anyone would have a motive for taking our children, or if we had any enemies, or if maybe, they could have run away. For months I cried as that thought haunted my mind. Was I a terrible mother? Did they leave to get away from me? I wasn’t there enough. I wasn’t caring enough. I wasn’t as doting as I could have been. I didn’t take them out as much as I could have. I didn’t tuck them in at night. I didn’t read them stories. I barely consoled them when they cried. They must hate me, I thought. My husband agreed.

He blamed me! Can you believe it? He blamed me. He said a child needs its mother. A child always needs a mother and the best mother they had, I took away from them and replaced her with a dog. He said if I hadn’t insisted on being a working woman, if I hadn’t insisted on joining him to all these parties, if I had just been the stay at home woman that society called for me to be, my children would still be home and we wouldn’t be going through all of this drama.

I slapped him. I slapped him hard and I screamed.

We fought that night and many nights afterwards. We were drifting apart. All the things that brought us together in the first place seemed to fade away. Everything we’d ever been through together seemed to disappear. The glue that truly held us together was our children and they were gone from our lives. Either taken, or willingly missing, but either way they were gone.

A year passed and we divorced. Every woman looked down upon me. Every man spat rude words at my face. They called me a harlot for leaving my husband. They called me an adulterer. They sung words of hatred my way. They spun tales about me that had no relevance to the truth at all. Women were not supposed to leave their husbands. That’s just the way it was and so I ‘brought this on myself’.

After their two year anniversary of being gone, I left the city. ‘To start over’ I told myself. To start my life anew. No children, no husband, nothing keeping me back. And for a while, I was content with my life. I wasn’t happy, of course. I could never be truly happy but I was satisfied with the way my new life was going.

When I had nearly come to terms with the fact that I had to put my family in my past and move on with my life, maybe start a new family, news flew my way. Every day, I had the local paper from my old town delivered to my door, for just in case. I guess I never really gave up on them. I was just about to start my morning routine, a glass of milk with some toast and the headlines. Right smack in the centre of the page read: Darling children reunited with father. I nearly broke down right there.

I sped over to my old town and it took me days but I sped over there as fast as I could. There, at my old house, were my children. My beautiful babies. My lovely, adorable Wendy, my smart little John, and my little helper, Michael. They were all there waiting for me. It all couldn’t be real! They were home and they still loved me but something wasn’t right. They looked exactly the same as the night they disappeared. The same clothes, the same hair, the same face, the same age. They hadn’t changed a bit. They hadn’t aged a day.

It made no sense to me. I tried to tell someone, anyone, but no one saw it but me. My children smiled at me and told me the same story that they told anyone that asked. They had gone to a magical place called Neverland, passed the second star on the right and straight on till morning, they said. There were pirates, and Indians, and fairies, and mermaids, they said. The police said they were traumatized. The police said I was traumatized. That was all that was ever said about it.

So I tried to forget about it, I tried to move on but till this day I’m at a loss for words as to where my children went, why they came back, and why they hadn’t aged. But despite all that, I still tell their children the stories they told me, about the mermaids, and pirates, and fairies, and Indians. I tell them this because there was a time when I wasn’t good enough and they left me. This time around, I will be good enough and they will have their magical life without ever having to leave. This time around, I will be a mother.

Behind the Scenes

I  was a young woman when I took in my two grandchildren, Adam and Christian. Adam, the eldest, was always a self-oriented boy. It was hard to keep him in line after all he’d already learned. His parents, my son, they had all the money in the world, you see, and Adam knew to take advantage of that. Christian was just a baby at the time, barely two, he hadn’t been spoiled as Adam had, however he was clumsy. Everything that Christian touched always broke and so after a while, we took to calling him Chip and he adored it. I was only fifty when they came to my door with a note in hand and luggage behind them. The note said ‘Hey Mama! Adeline and I are going to travel the world, watch them for a bit, love Davide’ and so I did just that. I took them in because what else would a self-respecting grandmother do?

When the fourth anniversary of their moving in came to be, we decided to have a little party. By that time, Adam was twenty-one, a dashing, young man. He was very handsome and very charismatic but also very materialistic and egotistical. It was so unfortunate that he turned out that way. Chip, the poor dear, was only six.

The three of us were sitting at the table, enjoying the lovely dinner I had made when there was a knock at the door. I asked Adam nicely to go get the door. He complained about there being servants to do that and stormed off. I tried to raise that boy right, I swear! I tried my hardest but it still happened. He opened the door but he was taking too long so Chip and I went to see who was there. It was a poor old woman who had gotten caught in the rain. Before I even had the chance to offer her refuge, Adam flat out refused her and called her names. The woman removed her cloak and revealed herself to be a sorceress. I covered little Chip’s poor eyes as she placed a curse upon Adam and the whole house. She said that until Adam learned compassion, he’d be just as much of a beast on the outside as he was on the inside. She said that until then, everyone residing in my house would suffer.

It wasn’t until a day later that the curse took effect. At first, I had hope that maybe she went home and decided she’d spare the rest of us from her wrath. I thought she might reconsider punishing us all for Adam’s cruelty but she didn’t. Midafternoon, in the middle of my making lunch for us all, I felt myself shrinking and shrinking until I could barely see over the chair. I looked at my reflection in the water that spilled from the saucepan and I saw myself, I was a teapot.

From that night on, sadness overtook the whole house. Of course I tried to make the best of it but there wasn’t much I could do. Little Chip was always so chipper, though. He perceived being a teacup as an adventure. I tried to see it that way also. As for Adam, I saw no hope for him. The witch made him a monster and he became bitter and angry all the time. It wasn’t until the young girl came that I felt any hope. Her name, Belle, beautiful. She was a kindred spirit that one. She found the sliver of compassion hiding in my young grandson and she brought it out. She made it into a cloak and it covered him from head to toe. Yes, don’t get me wrong, there were moments that could have been better but ultimately she saved us all.

She was like a daughter to me, the one I never had but always wished for. She was so wonderful. She and Adam fell in love and our curse was broken. I was a woman again, and little Chip was back to his self. He was a little disappointed that the adventure was over but a new one was on its way in the form of a new baby girl for us all to love, baby Soleil.

In the end, Davide and Adeline came back for their children. Adam, Belle, and Soleil left with them while Chip stayed with me. They’ll be back someday, I know, and there will forever be a home for them. There will forever be a home for anyone who knocks at my door.

Thank the Queen

I  was a young boy when I was first welcomed into the palace. It was an honour, or so my father told me every night before bed. Thank God and thank the queen. he’d always tell me. It was because of the queen convincing the king to widen the job opportunities for knights that we were accepted into the palace. My dad was to become a royal knight and I was allowed to come with the promise that one day, I’d become a knight too. Until then, I would train with the other knights’ children.

When I was five, six years before the palace life, I lived with my mother, father, and two siblings. I had an older brother named Thompson and a younger sister named Kayla. Thompson was my hero. He was a stable-boy for one of the royal knights and so he was well compensated for his work. Thompson’s pay supported our family. Every day when Thompson went to work, the knight— Orion was his name— would teach him things about being a knight and every night when Thompson came home, he’d tell me how amazing this knight was. He told me that he wished he could be a knight, just like Orion. He told me to be a knight for the king and queen was the most honourable thing a man could do in his life and if I ever had the chance, I should seize it.

Around this time is when my little sister got sick. Thompson was working extra hard and my dad was out every day, trying to find extra work around town. It was my job to stay home and protect my mom and my baby sister. One night, when both my brother and father were out, a carriage came to our doorstep.