Recent On Essays

Fact or Fiction: I Believe in Magic and Here’s Why

Before I begin to tell you why I believe in magic, you have to promise that you won’t judge this story. It’s going to sound a bit far fetched, but I this is how I came to believe that magic really does exist.

I knew this girl and she was blind. Everyone knew that when she wore her thick framed glasses and didn’t talk as much. I was her best friend, her name was Ginger. She had beautiful hair, a thick long black braid down the middle of her back, and grey eyes. Ginger was the kind of girl that was soft spoken yet fierce, it was something in her quiet demeanor that made her powerful, but nobody knew just what. But, she showed me. She took my hand and guided me through her world, I swear this happened.

Her world was like a Disney hotel or what the inside of a Disney cruise ship would look like. There were so many people that were doing magical things like floating, riding magical carpets, and disappearing acts. These people had disabilities in average everyday life but escaped here when the sun went down. This place had all sort of magicians that weren’t categorized in any specific order. They lived by their own societal standard of trickery and deception, but fun to be around. I fell in love with the way that people could make dust come from their hands or glide over steps. I wanted to do it too.

Ginger took my hand and showed me how she could ride a magical carpet, used her thick framed glasses to see through walls, and fly within the inside of the place we were. She never told me the name of it and said that once I left I couldn’t come back. It was so fun, I couldn’t get enough of it. The place was a corner of the world that I didn’t want to leave. Ginger shared the fact that she had a responsibility to kill giant roaches that would invade from time to time, or entertain some of the guests, and talk to the woman who was in charge. It sounded like an ideal life, one where people never slept, ate, or showered. There was a sense of eternal living.

But unfortunately, like everything good, it had to come to an end. I can’t tell you where along the lines I fell asleep but when I woke up Ginger was standing in front of me laughing. I told her that I wanted to go back, but she just smiled and shook her head.

I swear that when I open my eyes I saw a ray of sunshine beaming over her. It was like she was under this spotlight, she was shining so brightly in my room and she radiated happiness. Ginger began running, without her glasses, towards my front door. I followed behind her screaming, “wait!” She didn’t slow down.

I was screaming her name standing in front of my house as the rain poured faster and faster, “Ginger!” She was no where to be found. I turned to go back in but something was pulling me towards the sewer where the rain drained downwards beneath the city. I pulled on my rain boots to walk towards it. Before I could make my way over my best friend was pulling into her drive way, she blew the horn, “What are you doing in the rain?”

“I… uh..” I just shook my head and she opened the door to the side of her Chevy and said, “Get in, Stupid!”

“Where are we going?”

“Apparently, people are gathering around the broken rollercoaster and taking rides.”

I wasn’t sure that this was a great idea but if Jen says it’s happening it must be worth going, she’s usually the type to read, stay in the house, and ignore everything else happening in the world.

Sure enough, we pulled up to a lot of people standing around the rollercoaster that was a bright lime green color, it was a water ride that wasn’t done with construction. But, safety wasn’t what most of our peers were wondering about, it was the fun that everyone was attracted to. They had lids to the tops of bins with them and were sliding around on the inside of the slide. I couldn’t wait to get in, but I was kind of scared.

Jen handed me a lid and we slid in behind each other. The rain made it so slushy and the water was just running beneath us, it was amazing. When we came to the end of the ride police were crowding around us, so we scattered all over town. As I was running I lost Jen. I turned a corner and thought I saw Ginger. The small city we were in was sort of like a Disney world of its own, the buildings were tall and Victorian styled with green shrubs lining the cobble stone I was running on.

I saw Ginger’s long braid trailing behind her, it was something about how confident she was running. It made me feel as if she could see, I didn’t see her wearing her glasses, so I figured that maybe she got her sight back which made me want to talk to her even more, “Ginger!”

She didn’t even turn around. Before I knew it, I was at the top of a building where Daisy Duck was painted on the wall to the left of me, there was an irregular pattern on the ceiling, and the floors were mirrors. I knocked on the wall because I remembered having to do it, but I don’t remember from where I learnt the trick.¬†Ginger answered the door.

Just when I could step inside I woke back up, this time I was mad. I wasn’t quite sure when I fell asleep or if I was ever awake. I didn’t know whether the first episode ran into the second one, if the girl really existed, if it was just a reoccurring dream, but I knew that world was real because two days later a “freak” accident happened that took away my vision.

Now, every time I go to sleep I see nothing but blackness and some glimpses of Ginger, at moments I might be in the world but I can’t really see it.¬†Anyway, my first encounters with Ginger happened when I was 18, I’m now 30 years old and my son tells me, occasionally, he sees some little girl in our home by the name of Ginger and I told him not to follow her; he giggles, but there’s a reason why I believe in her and her magic. Her magic took my sanity.

It’s been hard living with my only thoughts being of Ginger and her world. I told this story to a psychologist once and they swore I was losing my mind, they tried to hospitalize me so I’ve kept it to myself for all these years. But, now every time I see her grey eyes in my sleep I don’t get excited. I feel madness, a rage so deep that I hate the happy sight of her. She did something to me with her magic and I’ll never be able to live the same again, I just pray for my son.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s