Speaking with myself (Open)

[Matilda Creighton]

Matilda sighed. Thursday night's where boring, no excitement. The TV was on but she was too tired to care. Her eyes flickered to it for a second, Glee. The new episode was on. Matilda hated their voice's. They where annoying high pitched and obviously fake. She felt her eyes begin to drift off. NO! Her self conscious seemed to scream at her.

Nothing to do, no one around, Lumen gone finding Klaus and Matilda in the blue of everything happening in the supernatural world. Matilda took a look around her apartment. Clean no messes except for the pile of Grimoires laying on the clean spotless ground. With nothing to do the only thing she could do was explore more of the unread pages in the ancient books. All the books on the ground where ones explored, the ones in her bookcase where those whom had not been open by the young witch.

Matilda let her finger run over each book until she felt a spark. This was the next one. With a quick flip and grab of her hand the book was off the shelf and open. The pages where frail and felt like they could break at the slightest touch. The written words where faint. Dust covered the cover and pages making the girl sneeze at the touch. Page after page after page she read. Her fingers flew trough the pages, until she came upon an interesting spell, one that every witch knew by heart but would not use if they where smart like her. The daylight spell. Able to make a piece of Jewelry special to a vampire allow them to walk in the sun without burning to death. Matilda knew not to use this until she needed to.

Another spell she came across would allow her to move water. Interested Matilda ran to her closet and took her leather coat and zipped it up. She would go to Wickery bridge and control the raging river down below.
******
Now arrived Matilda took hold of her book and walked cautiously along the demolished bridge. Frightened of falling into the deep pit of inky black water. It would be freezing to the touch. Cautiously she sat down letting her legs dangle off the edge of the structure. Her breath was shaky and made a vapor. The wind whistled by her ear.

Matilda began her spell, whispering inaudible words. They where an a different language, perhaps Latin. The whispering grew louder to each section. Until she halted to a stop, the last of her echoes faded into the distant, her blonde hair flew like a whirlwind in the crisp air. The wind seemed to be whipping at her. She had heard a noise, like footsteps. She turned her head to see an outlined figure. Matilda bit her lip. How could she be so foolish to have come out into the open and recite these sacred words in the midst of, whoever that was. All she could hope was that this person thought that she was only speaking with herself.