H is for Hecate

I finally get the nerve to leave my car. It’s 4 am on a Monday and it’s freezing. I don’t know what else I would expect for Pittsburgh in the winter. I’m second guessing my decision to come to the cemetery this late, especially since the Mt. Lebanon Police Department is right next to the cemetery. I summon all the courage I have, grab my bag, and walk into the cemetery.

 

I make my way in the darkness. I’ve been in this cemetery hundreds of times before, but its different at night. They always say that cemeteries aren’t haunted because no one dies there, but tonight, I beg to differ. The darkness distorts reality. The path seems longer. The trees seem alive. The wind seems to whisper to me. It’s taking every inch of will power not to drop my bag and run back to my car.

 

I arrive to the place I was seeking. The only place in the cemetery where three roads meet. I step to the intersection and close my eyes. I silently cast my circle. However, this time the power builds counter clockwise around me. Instead of a spiraling up, my circle spirals down.

 

Now that the circle is cast, I reach out Hecate.

 

‘Hecate of earthly, watery, and celestial frame. You in a saffron veil arrayed, pleased with dark ghosts that wander through the shade, give your ear to my prayer.’

 

The wind stills and a dog howls in the distance.  I burn a petition containing my wish and sprinkle the ash at the crossroads. I leave a key and a crude clay statuette of a dog. I open my circle and leave the cemetery.

 

My spell is cast.

 –Excerpt from my Book of Shadows

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