Part 1

As day turned to night, Blair sat on the hill overlooking the forest, watching the different hues of red and pink as they played out on the canvas of the sky. It was almost time, almost time to go out on the hunt. Blair snickered – when she told people she ‘hunted’ at night time, they often assumed that she was actually out looking for prey. Though she did have a kind of blood fetish, Blair was not one to kill. She was a peaceful being. Her hunt was mostly a search. Not only for herbs and ingredients, but for answers.
The sun disappeared behind the horizon, and Blair was up and on her way. She walked the path to the forest, pulling her hood over her head. The moonlight illuminated her emerald eyes. Tonight’s mission was to find dead bamboo stalks, so she could harvest the powder inside. Bamboo powder for protection, she muttered to herself. As she went deeper into the forest, vines began to sneak onto the path, snaking around trees and plants. Blair made sure not to trip; she didn’t want to have to explain any injuries to her parents, seeing as she was supposed to be asleep in her bed right now. She let out a deep sigh, her breath rising into the chilly air. Sometimes, Blair wished she could tell her friends and family about her beliefs. But, she knew they wouldn’t understand. She wouldn’t expect them to. Although it would be a lot easier if everyone knew, it wasn’t worth the risk of losing everything. It was better to confide in a few, close friends. If anyone else found out, there could be a disaster… horrible things could happen. People weren’t very accepting. These thoughts clouded Blair’s mind, and she pushed them away. Now was a time for clarity, a time to be one with nature. These worldly dilemmas shouldn’t be eating away at her.
Fall was perhaps one of the best seasons for collecting ingredients. Everything was crisp and fresh – or even better, dead. Some might think Blair was a drug addict, as she always carried plants and had strange smells on her. But, smells that other considered strange comforted Blair. She thought about this as she inhaled, taking in all the mystical scents of the forest. The girl’s pace quickened as she took a look at her watch. She didn’t have much time left; and she needed that bamboo powder. She kept her eyes peeled as she hurried, she didn’t want to leave without what she came for. Finally, she came across some pale green shoots of bamboo sticking up from the ground. They were huddled close together in defiance of the cold. Though it was already too late, their lack of color showed that they were plainly dead. This didn’t mean that they were easy to get out of the ground, which Blair was not expecting. She battled with one shoot for five minutes, trying to yank it from the soil.
Once she had finally managed to uproot the bamboo, she laid it along the width of the path. Then, she stepped on it, breaking it in half.. As she shook one of the halves, pellets of white powder fell into her hand. Blair smiled; perfect condition, slightly damp. She removed several vials from her jacket, and poured the powder in, filling each to the brim.. It was difficult to re-cork them, and Blair was forced to abandon some bits of powder. Once all her vials were filled and corked, she stuffed them back in her pocket and began to sprint in the direction of home.
When Blair finally reached home, her watch read 3:00 AM. Perfect timing. Her parents were most likely still in bed; unless her little brother Michael had woken them up claiming he was sick. This happened frequently, but Blair had learned to deal with situations where she might run into her parents while coming home from a hunt. Sometimes she had to sneak in through her bedroom window, which required scaling up the side of the house. But not this time; her parents and her brother were sound asleep, and Blair was able to enter the house through the front door. Trying to be as quiet as possible, she climbed the stairs to her room. When she opened the door, the wonderful odors hit her like a bomb. It was welcoming, and it was also useful for keeping parents out of her room. Looking around Blair’s room, one could see potted plants covering every desk space and table. There were many different varieties of flowers and herbs, both intriguing and strange at the same time. In one corner, there was a large, onion-like bulb. Near the window was a prickly vine, curled up in its pot almost as if it were sleeping. Colorful lilacs, daisies and pansies lined the room. A large box of rocks and crystals lay open on the floor, and on a low shelf right over it, was a vial stand, missing all but two vials. Blair knelt down and took the vials full of powder out of her pocket and carefully placed them in the holder. She then removed her jacket and took her hair out of its bun, letting it flow freely around her shoulders.
How all this began is an incredibly long story in itself. This new way of life sprang from interest, curiosity, and pain. Blair did not lead the tortured life of a vampire or a werewolf, but she was of the same genre, something most people would shun and declare a fictional being. Blair was a witch, a misunderstood soul looking for the Divine.
After changing into her pajamas, she go into bed, and lay there, staring up at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to come.