flipflop_diva

Esmerelda was the unluckiest witch in the world. And that wasn’t just something she told people because she felt sorry for herself. It was literally a fact. She was, after all, the only witch in generations after generations after generations who was not born with any powers whatsoever.

“If it’s any consolation,” her father would always say. “You are the most beautiful of all my daughters.”

“That’s not a consolation,” Emmie would mutter. “You’re literally witches. You can change your appearance to anything you want.”

“Yes,” said her oldest sister, Cadence, who was the most powerful witch of their clan before she even hit her sixteenth birthday. “But you’re still the most beautiful naturally.”

“And maybe your powers will still show up someday,” piped up her middle sister, Sabbath, to which Emmie would nod and grumble, “Sure, they will. The same day the moon falls from the sky.”

But even though Emmie didn’t actually think she was anywhere close to lucky enough to have her powers just show up randomly one day in the future, it didn’t mean she was completely giving up on them. In fact, Emmie was rather stubborn, and quitting was not a word she used.

So, Emmie did whatever she could think of to try and get powers. She read all the books, she talked to all the wise old woman and the kindly old men, and she even followed all the directions of every urban legend pertaining to witches’ powers that she came across.

When she was six years old, she asked Cadence if she could try a spell on her to give her powers. Cadence, who was twelve then and already more powerful than their parents, agreed. But all Cadence’s carefully researched and practiced spell did was singe Emmie’s hair so badly, she looked like a roasted marshmallow.

“Well,” Cadence said. “If it’s any consolation, I’m sure you’ll start a new trend.”

Emmie glared at her sister and then burst into tears. But two weeks later, every other six-year-old witch had burnt the ends of their hair too.

When Emmie was ten years old, she overheard a group of older witches talking about the elusive genie. Apparently, the genie had been spotted in town and was granting wishes.

Emmie ran straight to the Magical Research Library to check out every book on genies they had, including the Laws and Regulations Pertaining to Genies. It was the most boring thing she had ever read, but she committed every word of it to her brain, and then she went out searching for the genie.

It took her seven weeks, but she finally found her.

The genie, with her beautiful red hair and her brilliant purple eyes, smiled and asked Emmie for her wish.

“I wish to have powers like all the other witches!” Emmie said and waited expectantly.

The genie held out her wand and waved it, but nothing happened. No Poof or even a Whoosh. Emmie did not feel herself grow stronger.

She frowned. “I don’t feel anything.”

“Oh no,” said the genie.

“What do you mean by ‘oh no’?” Emmie asked.

“I’m afraid you’re my ten thousandth wisher. Which means your wish cannot be granted.”

“Whaaaaaat????” Emmie screeched. “That’s not a thing!”

The genie huffed. “It sure is a thing. Every ten thousand wishes, the Genie’s powers must reset, and thus the ten thousandth wisher is deemed invalid. It’s written right there in Laws and Regulations Pertaining to Genies.”

Emmie groaned. She had seen that line, but it was the one thing she hadn’t paid attention to. If only she had asked for her number before wishing!

“Okay,” she said. “So I’ll let another person find you, and then I’ll find you again, so I can be ten thousand and two.”

The genie shook her head. “It doesn’t work that way. Only one wish per customer. No loopholes.”

“But I didn’t get a wish!” Emmie said.

“No loopholes,” the genie repeat. “But if it’s any consolation, your name will now be added to the Laws and Regulations Pertaining to Genies as my ten thousandth wisher.”

“That is not a consolation,” Emmie said.

When she was fifteen, Emmie decided to try and find the end of the rainbow. She thought maybe if she could find a leprechaun and its pot of gold, she could make a deal. She didn’t want the gold, but maybe she could get powers instead. But after eleventh months of trying, all she found were empty buckets and muddy footprints.

The last one she found came with a note. If it’s any consolation, I’m just faster than you.

She had no idea how that was supposed to be any sort of consolation at all.

By the time she was seventeen, Emmie was ready to give up. She didn’t have powers. She probably never would. She should just leave the magical world and go live as a — shudder — non-magical human.

“Well, why don’t you use your unluckiness as your power?” Sabbath said when she caught Emmie trying to pack a bag.

Emmie frowned. “What?”

“Our job is to help protect the non-magical humans from all the magical threats in the world, right?” Sabbath said. “That’s how Mother and Father raised us. But you get attacked by more evil sorcerers than I know. You’ve also almost been struck by lightning, set on fire and fallen into an endless pit.”

“All reasons I am considering leaving,” Emmie said.

“Or reasons to stay,” Sabbath said. “You want a house to fall on an evil sorcerer’s head and them not be able to use their powers to stop it? Just be standing beside them.”

“But then the house will fall on me,” Emmie said.

“Yes, but you’ve survived worse,” Sabbath said.

She had a point. Emmie had survived much worse. Like when she had been struck by that lightning at age eleven. It had not brought her powers, not even an electrical current aftermath, although her hair stuck up in all directions for two months.

“If it’s any consolation,” her father had said at the time. “You walked away from that.”

Emmie hadn’t care at the time. She had just been annoyed it happened to her. But maybe her father had been right. That was actually a pretty big consolation now that she thought about it.

Emmie continued to ponder what her sister had said long into the night. Maybe Sabbath was right. Maybe she could use her unluckiness to her advantage. Maybe she could use her unluckiness to help people.

Three days later, she got her answer. All she had been trying to do was go grocery shopping when out of nowhere an evil sorcerer descended and took her hostage.

“If it’s any consolation,” the sorcerer told her. “I’m not actually planning to kill you.”

“If it’s any consolation,” Emmie said back. “I’m so unlucky I think that tree over there is going to fall on us.”

The sorcerer laughed. Ten minutes the tree killed him instantly. Emmie slid out from under the tree without a single bruise.

“Huh,” she said.

That night, Sabbath smiled at her. “I know you think you’re the unluckiest witch to ever live,” Sabbath said. “But maybe you’re really the luckiest. Or the strongest. You’ve survived more than anyone else ever could.”

Emmie thought about that. Finally, she grinned. “If it’s any consolation,” she said. “You may be on to something, but I am never going to admit to it. I’m just going to take my bad luck and be on my way. Hopefully directly into the path of evil.”

The rest of her family laughed, then held up glasses to toast to Emmie’s success. The glasses clinked. Her family took sips.

Emmie’s glass cracked and broke all over the table. Emmie sighed and went to get a dustbin. She really was the unluckiest witch in the world.

Fiction.

This was written for the new season of

therealljidol, Wheel of Chaos! If you liked my entry, please consider voting for me or any of the other amazing contestants. You can find all the entries here. Looking for the voting post on Sunday night!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

adoptedwriter

This was a great story!

serpentinejacaranda

Great story, great read. Stakes up front, relatable protagonist, some smart (even cinematic) hard cuts, and a delightful weaving of the prompt. This ticks a lot of fun boxes. ✅

halfshellvenus

I liked this very much-- and the idea of unluckiness being a type of negative power. It might actually have been- her bad luck didn't seem to harm her, just the people nearby.

The 10,000th wish being a dud was great. :D