The Heart Wants What It Wants

May 11, 2017
By Anonymous

The Heart Wants What It Wants            

“Start from the beginning,” my therapist said,  holding a notebook and pen.

“How far in the beginning?” I asked with a whispery voice. I didn't want to talk about what happened, but for me to “get better” I needed a therapist. The only reason I'm here is because of my mother being worried for me, I guess. She never really liked me, why would she even care? I just want to get out of this place and go back to grieving like every other person would.

“When you first met him.”

“Him?” I asked curiously.

“Your mother says you have a boyfriend, tell me when you first met him.”



It was a winter afternoon, about a year ago. I was walking back home from going to school. The snow covered everywhere you looked. I smiled and breathed in the smell of snow and smiled.  I've always loved the cold, it never affected me. I was wearing a tshirt and jeans, enjoying the cold weather.

I was looking at the sky, seeing how the beautiful, blue puffy clouds and how it covered a lot of light from shining through, but not enough to where you couldn’t see. While admiring the clouds I wasn't watching where I was going and ran into someone.

“Jesus… s***,” the boy around my age said as he fell backwards dropping all of his stuff.

“Oh, I am so, so sorry,” I said as I leaned down to pick up his binder and pieces of papers that were in the binder.

“I don't need your help,” he said getting into a squatting position, also picking up the now wet  papers. I looked at his papers as I did and realized he was in my same History class.

“Well it's all I can do for bumping into you like that, and if you ever need help in History, we’re in the same class,” I said looking up offering him his papers back.

He looked up and we both froze. He had fiery, hazel eyes and tanned skin. His hair was a walnut brown and was hot. He looked about my age, 17.  I felt his warmth from his body radiate towards my way and I was at least a foot away from him. He was like furnace.

“Yeah whatever. I don’t need your help,” he said breaking the eye contact and standing up. He sarcastically said, “Thanks for bumping into me.”

I watched him walk away, he shivered in his winter coat, practically hugging himself.

“For a guy that literally had heat radiating off of him, you think he would be warm,” I thought out loud and continued my way home.


My therapist began writing down stuff. She looked at me and back down to the paper multiple times. The face she'd make made me confused. I couldn't tell what she was thinking.

“What's that face for?” I asked harshly, leaning back into my chair.

“Nothing,” she said shaking her head, whatever it was it was bothering her. “It's nothing. So, what happened next?”

“Why do you need to know? It has nothing to do with him,” I said defensively. The only reason my mom wanted me here was because of him, not because of  Thomas.

“Just answer the question Mr. Schneider,” she replied. She looked down at her notebook. “What happened next?”


I got home and my little 5 year old brother, Thomas, latched himself onto my legs.

“Jack!” He shouted as he looked up, still attached to my legs.

“What?” I said laughing, ruffling my hands through his thick, raven black hair, almost identical to mine.

“Do the thing!” He said excitedly.

“I'll do the thing if you let go of my legs,” I continued laughing. I really should get use to this, he asks for it every day.

He let go and sat on the couch in the living room. I went with him and sat next to him. I held out my right palm and closed my eyes. I imagined his favorite toy and felt a rush of coldness go down my right arm. When I reopened my eyes I saw Thomas’ face light up in joy. His frosty blue eyes shined like stars.

“Mr. Snugglebear!” He shouted as he gently picked up the hand sized ice sculpture.

“He will start melting so you better put it in the freezer with all the rest of your sculptures,” I said ruffling his hair. “I bet Mr. Sugglebear will fit right in with the others.”

“Okay!” He shouted and ran into the kitchen.

I relaxed on the couch, slightly closing my eyes until my mother came into the room.

“Mr. Snugglebear? Really Jack?” She said disappointedly sitting in the recliner next to the couch.

“Yes, he loved Mr. Snugglebear till you took him away from him,” I replied tensing up a little. She wants him to grow up too fast. He's just 5 and she expects him to be able to control his magic, or even have magic in the first place.

“He doesn't need it anymore,” she replied. “He is getting too old for it.”

“He's 5 mother, 5 years old,” I said sitting up and looking at her. Anger started to fill my head. She thinks she knows best for Thomas when she literally knows nothing about being a parent. “You expect him to know everything about having a special ability, but he is only 5.You don’t even get magic till you’re 12. Why can't you just let him be little kid? A little kid, carefree about magic besides the magic I do?”

We just sat in silence, she didn't want to respond to me because she knows I'm right.

“Wait till I'm 18 mother. I am going to take full custody of Thomas, and you will never see him ever again,” I said sharply. Sharp enough that spit was coming out of my mouth.

“Jack!” Thomas shouted as he ran from the kitchen to me on the couch.

“Hey buddy,” I said smiling at him.

“Mommy, did you see that Jack made me? It was Mr. Snugglebear!” He yelled loudly in excitement.

“Yes I noticed what he made you now shut up. Your voice is annoying,” mother said cruely to her son. We both stayed quiet. I pull him up onto my lap.

“Thank you for Mr. Snugglebear,” he said as he cuddled up to me.

“No problem buddy.”


My therapist continued writing things down. It seemed like she was writing ever detail of my story onto her notepad for how much and how long she was writing,

“What do you want to know next?” I asked impatiently as I began to play with my glass of water, freezing it and unfreezing it over and over again.

Finally after what felt like hours, she spoke. “Skip to the part where you and the boy you met became close. Tell me, what happened?”

“It was a 8 months later, I was in my room…”


“Finally! We're done with the project Zach!” I shouted excitedly. Zach high fived me and started jumping on my bed with a huge smile on his face. His brown hair becoming a mess from jumping.

“Yes! This project was literally hell. Like honestly, who cares about what the magic council. There laws are stupid. Like the one with ‘the opposite magic can't date or they will be thrown into prison’. That is literally stupid,” Zach said and jumped off of my bed. “Escpecially when I'm in love with the opposite magic.”

“Really? Who is it?!” I asked him anxiously. I stared into the fire boy's eyes wondering who he could've loved. I knew when I found out that it wasn't me, I would be devastated.

He started to walk towards of where I was sitting at my desk. Our eyes staring into one another, like they were on the first day we met. He got closer and closer, our faces about to touch but he stopped.

“I love you Jack,” he said in a soft whisper. It was hard for my face not to burn up and turn my pale skin into a light pink shade.

“I love you too.”


My therapist was writing down stuff harder. She seemed angry about something.

“Are you ok?” I asked her worriedly. She may have been writing stuff down in a weird way but she was really nice when I first met her.

“Yes, I'm fine. Continue the story.”


Zach started burning the notes we took for the project with his hands. With every piece of paper he would act like it was him killing his enemies even though he was 16 he acted a lot like Thomas. I was having the best time of my life till my mom walked in.

“Mother?” I said confusingly. She never walks into my room. This is the first time she has done it since she had to tell me my dad died.

“Thomas got ran over by a car,” she said in a monotone voice. “He was playing with the Mr. Snugglebear the ice sculpture and got hit. He died on impact.”

Then she closed the door.


I began to cry in the therapist's office. My therapist  just stared at me in a disgusted face.

“You deserve to feel pain,” she said looking at me like I just murdered a cat.

“What?” I shakingly said. “How did I deserve to feel pain?”

“You dated the opposite magic, you're sick,” she spat in my face. I sat there in shock.

“What-” I began but a bunch of police men came in and handcuffed me.

“What is the meaning of this!?” I angrily shouted, moving around trying to get loose.

“You broke the law, you get arrested,” I heard my mother said behind me in a joyeuse voice.

“This was a whole set up, wasn't it?”

“Yep,” my mother said proudly. “You will be in prison, forever. I made sure Zach got prosecuted as well and will be in a different prison than you.”

“Why mother? Why?” I asked crying harder. I don’t want me and Zach to be separated. I just lost my brother, I don’t want to lose the love of my life.”

My mother laughed hysterically. She sounded like a villain, but the difference between my mother and a villain is that a villain never wins. My mother has won. “I’ve always hated you, you never letted me teach you how to use your magic. You were busy with your father and he taught you how to use your magic for fun. I was glad when he left so I could teach Thomas properly, till your creation killed him, so now it’s my turn to make you feel like absolute s***. You and your ‘boyfriend’ are going to prison.  The best part is, is that you'll never see Zach ever again.”

The author's comments:

What inspired me to write this is how it was in the past with both racism (magic = racism) and homophobia. I hope in our reality, in the future it won't become like this. 

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