Rose Guccite

February 24, 2012
By Jorie BRONZE, Grant, Minnesota
Jorie BRONZE, Grant, Minnesota
3 articles 0 photos 0 comments

There was once a time when magic was alive. Alive, abundant, and despised. This was a time of betrayal, murder, and cruelty; all in the name of witch-craft prevention. And into this frightful era a baby girl was born. Rose Guccite, daughter of pastor and holy wife. Rose Guccite, witch.

No one knew why some witches were born to totally non-magical parents, but it happened. And for some reason these witch children of non witch parents were far more powerful then normal witches. They were also much rarer.

Rose’s parents were as far from magical as you could be. Her father, the honorable pastor Guccite, was a monster. His only joy in life was found in extinguishing any and all magic that he could find. Rose’s mother wasn’t much better. She was a weak-willed woman who only did as her husband said, and only thought what he told her to think. She didn’t even try to save Rose’s older brother, James.

You see, James was also a witch. But he did not have the control that Rose did. When he was ten years old, and Rose was five, the pastor whipped him for some minor error long forgotten. James lost control and shoved his father away, using magic. When the pastor had recovered from the shock of being tossed halfway across a field, he realized that no “normal” boy could have done that. He realized that his son, wasn’t “normal”. And he lost it.
He went up to his son and knelt before him. He apologized to James and asked him to forgive his “dear old father”. James happily did this, not knowing what was approaching. That night as James was sleeping peacefully in his bed the pastor went into his room and smothered him. The pastor took the small body from the bed, wrapped it in sheets, tied it to a heavy rock, and sunk it in the river. The next morning he explained what he had done in a casual voice at breakfest to his wife and Rose. His wife merely nodded that it was the right thing to do, given the circumstances. And Rose learned that any use of magic would be deadly in this household. And so when she turned six and realized that she could make things fly by only thinking about it she never told a soul.
But after ten years of keeping this enormous secret and watching her father kill many a magical brother and sister, Rose gave up. In one day she turned 16, ran away from home, and found a clan of witches hiding in the woods. Thus begins her true story.
The leader of the clan, Marco Yuspite, knew the Guccite name. Knew it, feared it, loathed it. And so when Rose told her name, he was tempted to kill her just for that. But he stopped himsef. He knew that alone his small and weary clan might not last much longer. They needed a savior, and Rose was just so much more powerful then any of them. He thought, maybe, just maybe, that savior could be her.
But Marco was not a very trustful person. Though to be fair, if he was, he’d be dead. So to test Rose he devised a series of trials for her. Not unlike the trials Hera gave to Hercules. Trial one was to save a group of three witches about to be burned in a town a weeks’s ride south.
Rose accepted Marco’s challenge and set out with him to the town. On the ride there Marco taught Rose every thing he knew of magic and how to work it. When they arrived at the town everything went according to plan. Rose blasted the doors off of the jail, killed any bystanders that dared try to stop her, and released the witches. When they got to the city gates Marco was waiting with horses for everyone.
He then told the newly free group that they had to run somewhere far away where no one could find them for awhile. They agreed, but before they left the oldest one, a grandma by the name of Lourdes gave Rose her necklace. She told Rose that it was a lucky necklace and that wearing it meant that nothing ill would befall the wearer. Rose accepted it gratefully and put it on. The necklace was gold with the pentacle embossed in it. Simply gorgeous. And effective.
Rose never took the necklace off over the next year. She wore it when she defeated demons in the north, she wore it when she saved a whole town of witches from church killers. And it worked.
Finally Marco only had one more trial for Rose. She had to kill her father. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. If she could kill her father, she could join, and maybe even eventually lead their clan.
Rose agreed, and set out for home. When she arrived her mother fainted at the sight of her. And her father? He didn’t move from his chair. He told Rose that he knew everything about her, he asked her if she was there to kill him. Rose nodded her head, shocked by her fathers calm. Her father sighed, then asked her to make it quick. Rose’s mind was a mess, this was her father after all. Not a stranger. Finally she took off her necklace and lay it on the table. “I will not kill you”, she said to her father, “you are my father still.”
At that her father rose, strode towards her, and stabbed her in the gut. Just at that moment Rose’s mother awoke. Seeing her last child fall with a look of horror on her still face, it was to much. Rose’s mother lost it. She scrambled to her feet, grabbed a rifle that was near the door and shot the pastor. The pastor turned to look at his wife with a look of surprise and terror. Rose’s mother collapsed again, this time with her hand pressed against her heart. You see, having the pastor kill Rose, then killing him, was to much for her, or her weak heart, to take. And so she also left this world for the next that night.
And the next morning Marco came to check on Rose and found all three bodies. He took the necklace from where Rose had set it, then burnt the house down. Marco then left, to go back to his clan and continue to pray for a savior, one who would save magic. Marco waited, and waited. But no one ever came. And so on his deathbed he ordered his great-grandson to take the necklace and bury it, to be found by the right person at the right time. The boy did as he was told and the necklace was lost to the folds of time. But it’s still there, somewhere. Maybe you will be the one to find it, maybe you are our savior.

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.


MacMillan Books

Aspiring Writer? Take Our Online Course!