Confessions of a Teenage Witch
“Witch!” Justin hissed at me. He intended it as an insult, a way to malign me in a Bible-thumping middle school in which my witchery would be a social death sentence.
It worked, but I also realized something as I glared at him across the lunchroom table.
I was a witch.
For my entire childhood, churchgoing children pitted their religion, however insincerely…