Sylvie the Punk lived a careful, quiet life. Despite her appearance, she was an introverted individual, preferring to stay home and read, by herself, rather than entertaining others outside. Although she had her nose and eyebrow pierced, these were not for mere show value to impress, they were simply the look that she was going for, they were for herself, nobody else, herself, no less. Her favourite pastime was absorbing the knowledge of the greatest writers having walked the earth, she fed upon their words like sticky rice pearls, absorbing their wholesome nutrition as though she was starving, and their words were the first things her eyes had fallen upon.
However, one day, in her grandmother’s library, where she was permitted whenever, daily or nightly, she came across an ancient looking relic, it was a leather-bound book, with embossed name D. D. Derek. Intrigued, and curious while also amazed, she carefully opened the book to the first page, and then, upon the title page, declared there was this book as “My Secrets. Read at your own peril”, and that was that.
“Strange,” she thought to herself. She’d never come across a book like this before. Furiously flipping the pages to satisfy her curious hunger for what had seemingly been held behind for ages, her eyes fell upon a singular page, “Join here with the Masses”. It was a step by step guide on how to hypnotise a crowd, lulling them into a false sense of security until they would do anything you wished them to, even mooing while on one foot, or clapping, stamping and meowing!
“Interesting, interesting,” Sylvie muttered under her breath. “We must test how this works upon the public, but I’m scared of them, this is a test.” Sylvia suffered from a phobia of leaving the house without any accompaniment; she always needed someone there by her side, with her. Usually she took her grandmother, but today she was somewhat poorly and sickly, her mother was at Bible Study, thank goodness she hadn’t been taken along there to listen and see. For, if she had, she would never have made this discovery, this apparent diary filled with spells upon spells of magickry and manipulation of others so freely. She knew this book was wrong, that she had best hide it again, better still, throw it away, but she could not bear the thought, she needed to test out this hypnotic spell today.
The second problem, after her phobia, was that she knew her appearance was somewhat off-putting, her earrings of large safety pins, the piercings in her face, her unique hair cut, her love of wearing an outer clothing layer of lace, created an unwelcoming vibe from the crowds. But why would it matter, if she had hypnotised them? Then again, she needed to lure them in first to have them listen, their newly directed attention span. And hesitantly, she left the room, glancing backwards wistfully as the freedom of being herself she was knowingly leaving alone, and deep breaths, and deep breaths, as she passed out into the sunlight, in actual fact, the air was quite pleasant, perhaps this outing wasn’t going to be of a negative scent.
Upon the train – it was a fifty five minute ride into town – her eyes devoured the words and scrawling of the spells which she had found at her home. She was so glad that her grandma allowed her to live there, for all her days she could spend reading and researching without a care. The books calmed her, detracted from her life fears.
Now, at the main town mall, she called around, gathered, called, gathered all, until she had attracted a fairly large crowd, and then she sat down and proceeded to do as the spell had told. Soon, all the members of the crowd were cackling, then clucking, then bouncing on one foot, then maniacally laughing. Sylvie joined in along with them, she was so joyous that the spell had worked, that she continued her session within the town into the night, until ten o’clock.
News of her proficiency in magic spread across the land, rapidly, swiftly, with each touch type of a journalists’ command, and when the truth came down to it, Sylvie had procured some enemies, who were jealous beyond doubt of her talented skills she had honed with ease and now permanently had. Apparently she knew too much, needed to be taken down a peg, until she was a normal as normal could be person again.
She was seemingly not permitted to be successful, from her studious work, in her own right, and with the assistance of Mr. Derek, no, she was meant to be stuck at home, afraid of going out, of the world, forever being sick, battling her inner frights. She would not take this kind of attitude, nor would she admit defeat, she would not acknowledge these kinds of people who wished for her skills and opinions to never speak.
Sylvie honed her skills even further, became a master of this type of style, and isn’t it well that this ended well, the news of her skills were still looked upon with great admiration of her wiles.
© 2019 Alice Well Art, Lauren M. Hancock, also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.
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