Night Blooming

Selena Merriman shifted uncomfortably in the backseat of the taxi she rode. After her four days of none-stop packing and the long plane ride from Chicago to Seattle, she was plum out of patience.

"How much farther is it to La Push, sir?" She intended her question to be pleasant, but it came out bitter. The man glanced nervously into the rear view mirror, then quickly back to the road.

"It shouldn't be much longer, miss, its just down the river here." he responds in a gruff quiet voice. Selena, chewing on her bottom lip, turned her head and resumed her staring out the car window. They were driving down an old highway that ran along the outer La Push reservation border.

Selena smiled at the lush green forests, she missed them more then anything. Living on the Island of Palm beach, in Florida, everything was tropical and humid, much different from where she grew up. She grew up in the most northern part of Wisconsin, surrounded by thick forests, vast interlinking lakes, and untamed wildlife of unsurpassed beauty. This place was nearly identical to her childhood home. She felt safe and alive in it.

The driver pulled onto a road, mostly hidden by the tall trees and thick bushes, which headed onto the reservation. The back way, of course. The driver stopped and turned into a small driveway, maybe 8 miles away from the next house, a good distance and most definitely the farthest house on the reservation. The sight of a large two story, dark green house with white shutters, greeted the two. The yard in front and around the house was large, surrounded by the towering pines, with a large garden nestled to the left of the house. The sky was a light gray, small windows of sunlight passing bye every now and then, but still a tad dark for the time of day (3:00 pm). Selena was so lost in the beauty of the area she almost didn't see the front door open, or the joyous woman come floating out of it.

"Chandrika!" the woman was older, in her fifties, but she held herself with the grace and pride of a much younger woman. Her long hair, pulled into a messy bun, was shades of black and gray, the only proof of her age. Her olive skin was slightly wrinkled from years of smiling and grinning, placed around high cheek bones, a round face, full lips, and intense emerald eyes.

"Avani!" She yelled, launching out of the cab and across the lawn, into her arms. They smothered each other in a bone crushing hug, not noticing the cab man until he walked up to them with my three bags of luggage. she called her grandmother Avani, which means Lady of the Earth, as a nickname. Her real name is Betty Moss, and she's mostly Quileute with a bit of Cherokee. Selena on the other hand is 1/3 Quileute, 1/3 Cherokee, and the rest a mix of Scottish and German. Please don't ask how it happened its a crazy genealogy equation.

Selena's P.O.V

Avani paid the cab man and smiled over at me as he quickly got in the cab and sped away.

"My sweet little Selena, I'm so happy you decided to move here with me." She smiled brightly at me and wrapped a strong arm around my shoulders. Even though my grandmother was an older woman, she was very youthful. I smiled back up at her, letting her bright energy wash over me. "I hope you've been keeping up with your studies, Chandrika. Just because my daughter and her ex-husband don't believe in our ways, doesn't mean you have to deny yourself."

"Of course not, Avani. I've kept my studies strong, regardless of what my mother, father, and stepmother think." I replied happily, gathering my bags in my arms. She beamed over at me with a proud glint in her eyes. I return the smile feeling warm and accepted by my grandmother, more so then I'd ever felt by my mother or father.

"Wonderful, Chandrika, that means you can perform rituals with me during the phases! The Great Spirits will be happy to accept you, my child. I feel that your powers will grow and your destiny revealed as you stay here." She looked up at the gray sky and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.

Did I forget to mention my grandmother was very spiritual? Well, she is. Grandma Betty is actually the Shaman and Medicine woman of the Quileute tribe. And I, her granddaughter, have followed in her path, studying the Shaman and Wiccan ways that she have passed down to me. Now, to many people that might not make sense. 'Shaman and Wiccan? Why both?' To explain that, I come from a long line of Tribal Shamans. When my grandmother was being trained by her mother, she went through a long period of study. During that time, she researched similar religions, Pagan, Wiccan, Druid, Celtic, and so on, and found a great deal of truth and similarity between them. So as she became a Shaman she began studying to become a Wiccan high priestess, incorporating the two into her life and rolls as a Medicine woman and spiritual Shaman.

So, to put it simply, My grandmother is a tribal witch. And in case is hasn't clicked yet, I am too.

Hello all! If you like this Idea/concept favorite this or review it! sounds weird right now, but it shall get better! I'm not new at this! I know how to write...mostly... :)