"Hush, hush, I'm right here." I say to the little girl in my arms. She probably can't hear me over her screams though.

She hides her head in my shoulder and continues to scream. Soon enough she calms down and looks at me. Her eyes are puffy and red. I blow a raspberry at her and she laughs. It makes me smile.

"Now, tell momma what was wrong," I say like she can talk, she babbles and I nod. Now that the screams are done, I feel grounded with her in my arms. She doesn't want me to put her down but I'll have to eventually.

She starts throwing a fit when I put her on the floor with her toys.

"No ma'am, we don't have temper tantrums just because we want to be held." I say lightly. I know she won't be small for long and I cherish it. I make her a bottle and give it to her. She smiles, unaware that my thoughts are turning dark.

I leave her to her room and curl up on the couch and start crying. I don't even know if she'll ever get so big I couldn't hold her, or if she'll make it to her next birthday. The doctors don't even know. They couldn't even predict how long she has left. All we know iisis I have to stay strong for her.

From the word to the meaning, I found this hilarious to see as an actual phobia. I don't know anyone who has it, much less anyone who can pronounce it. This is a fear of the number 13. This number is considered a bad omen as it is the witch's number. While most have a supersition about the number, few have a full phobia of it.

People with this phobia make it hard to discuss math, play billiards, and even read books for fear of seeing or hearing the number 13. Imagine watching someone read a book, they turn to the page numbered 13.... They scream and drop the book. When they tell you what is wrong, you'd probably start laughing.

Myself, a person, though I may be,

A label for thee to use on me.

Some say shy, some say kind,

Few others say of a mind.

If I were asked about such a thing,

I would say I am part of a ring.

'Tis round and simple, yet can mean a lot,

I am part of a whole, one that is sought.

I am myself, some say unique,

Yet others say boutique.

If I were asked about Labels,

I would say cut the Cables.

Home.... It is not my house, there, it is empty and cold. I am driving to where I feel at home. I pass the trees and slowly, my mind eases. Soon I'm able to put on music I grew up with.

I sing to the steering wheel. Letting memories of my father driving this very truck, with the same music going while I sat in the passenger seat. A smile spread across my face. I knew the songs by heart. In perfect time, I sang them.

I turned into the small town I grew up in. As I passed by the high school, I had to laugh at the fact it had never changed. I made my first stop the church, where my brother and I spent every Sunday. I touched the pew that we had sat in and smiled, remembering watching many sermons while my body began to hurt.

I left the church and got back in the truck. I passed the cemetery, trying not to look at the gravestones, some of which marked my family. I let a tear fall. Breathing heavily, I gunned the gas and headed for the other side of town. The patrol car just wave as I passed him, knowing I would slow before my next turn, I always did.

As I turned, the old farm came into view. My heart broke. It wasn't a farm anymore, they turned it into an apartment complex. Suddenly, my sadness turned to fury. The land I grew up on, where I raised goats and cattle, where I could always go to feel at home was no longed there. They had tore down the old house, leveled the fields and paved them over with concrete.

I screamed, causing many residence to look at me strangely. I took a deep breath and got out of the truck, slamming the door. I walked about, looking for the owner's office. I soon found it. I didn't even knock as I entered. There was a man, maybe a couple of years older than me, sitting at a desk.

He looked up as I slammed his door shut. He was shocked to see me, and I him. He knew how much this land meant to me. He was used to be the one who helped me sneak onto the property in the middle of the night after my parents had died.

"You... You complete and utter fool! You knew I would come back! You knew I always came back here!" I yelled at him.

"Woah, sweetheart, calm down. Boo-" I slapped him.

"I'm not your boo...." I said quietly.

"You shouldn't be his either...." he replied as he hugged me. As I breathed in his sent of pine and cedar, I calmed down. He was my home, and he was right. And right there, in his office, I broke down. He didn't say anything, just rubbed my back as I stained his shirt with tears, finally realizing that my home wasn't a place.

All I Ask of You is a piece from the opera: Phantom of the Opera. The piece is sung by Christine and Raoul at the end of Act 1. The Reprise is sung by the Phantom.

The piece sung by Christine and Raoul is a beautiful love duet. The words from Raoul are from a man who wants to always be there for the woman he loves, to be her strength and anchor. The part Christine sings are of a woman who only wants the love of the man she loves. It speaks deeply to my heart every time I hear it.

A final note: I do not have a favorite song, I just chose the last one I listened to that was on my playlist.

1. Witch was actually the term for wise people. Wise people were people with a knowledge of herbal remedies, which was later persecuted because the women knew things that Christians though unholy or devil taught. Also, witch is a nonbinary term, meaning it was never directed towards masculine or feminine properties.

2. Wicca is a neopagan religion that is not always practiced by witches.

3. Witchcraft does not require deities, it uses energies and thoughts that are directed toward one goal.

4. There are several types of witches. When someone says they are a witch, do not automatically think they are a certain type of witch.

5. Witches are not evil. Everyone in this world is born with the ability to chose, what we chose to do define us, not what we practice.

Thank you for reading this, it's all from my memory, I wasn't going to bother opening a book just to elaborate on these. Have a wonderful day.

I hammered at the nail violently, instead striking my thumb. I hissed out a few words of choice. I heard a chuckle behind me. I turned and saw my boyfriend, paint on his clothes.

"Are you done?" I asked. He nodded. "Then paint the hallway." He left and I went back to the nail. I glared at it. Was it really worth the trouble? I mean, physical pain is really nothing, but I'm stressing out over a nail. I shook my head. I had to do it, I don't trust anyone but my dad and myself when it came to repairing doors.

I hammered the nail again, finally finishing the job. I sighed and put the hammer down. I felt someone touch my arm and I jumped the froze. My breathing sped up and my heart raced. I counted, trying to center myself.

"Are you okay?" I heard the voice of my boyfriend. No way was he done painting the hall.

"I'm fine," I slowly enunciate, making sure I didn't stutter.

"I know you're not," he said. "What's wrong?"

"I'm fine."

"Tell me."

"Nothing is wrong."

"Please tell me."

"There is nothing to tell." I was slowly getting mad at him for prodding when I didn't want to answer, but I was finally calmed from him suddenly touching my arm. I turned to him. He was looking at me softly, concern in his eyes.

"Love, if you don't tell me what's wrong-" I cut him off, suddenly saddened by his look.

"I'm fine. I was just scared by you touching my arm without warning. You know why. Now I'm sad that you're concerned." he brought me into a hug.

"It's my job to be concerned for you, you're my woman. And I wouldn't trade this for anything. I'm sorry I touched you're arm."

"It's okay." I looked up at him and smiled. "So, how much of the hall is done?"

"I ran out of paint so only about a sixth of it." He grinned at me. I shook my head and we talked about the color, trying to remember what the heck it was called, as the paint had covered the name. Home repairs and pretending to be fine, is this supposed to be normal?

I reread the transcribed note. Only in my family would we announce a family meeting with a coded note written in runes. I sighed. What is so important that they couldn't have just called?

I pulled into the drive. It looked like it was going to be everyone today. Even my grandmother from out of state was in the yard talking to her youngest son, my dad. I turned off my Beetle and stepped out of the car. It didn't take much to get everyone's attention, just slamming the car door and shouting 'Hello'. They looked at me and smiled.

Mom was the first to come and talk to me. She handed me a stack of note cards. I glanced over them and saw it was a speech. I pulled her inside.

"What the heck, mom? You want me to give a speech to a group of people, most of which I haven't seen in years, without telling me but five minutes before hand?"

"Sweetheart, you don't understand, that isn't just any speech.... It's a speech on your betrothal." Mom looked at the ground. I read the first card.

"And just whom did I 'choose' to be wedded to?" I asked slowly. There was a tap on my shoulder. I turned and saw a man whom I thought I'd never see. "Shane?"

"Yeah, it's me. What do you say?"

"You don't tell me you're coming down. You don't even talk about marriage. Never drop a hint. You stop talking to me for weeks. And you expect me to accept the half thought out, out of the blue proposal?"

"Read these cards, love, all the way through." He handed me a stack of cards as well.

I shook my head and noticed my mom had left. I looked at the cards. These were carefully written by hand... Neatly, not my father's scrawl, but not my mom's script either. I guess it was Shane's handwriting. Reading was pretty fast, only five cards, just the front side.

This is going to be a shock to some of you but I believe I have found the love of my life. I know none of you have met me before today, but at this moment it doesn't matter. I've already talked to her mother and father, who helped me arrange this. I think that this woman is the most wonderful, most beautiful person I've ever met. She's sweet, kind, smart, can be sarcastic, she loves books (and I don't think it's just the good ones either). This will probably piss her off that I never even dropped a hint about this but I really wanted to surprise her. But in front of you all, I will do something that will either make me the happiest and luckiest man alive or will cause my death...

There was nothing past that and I knew he wouldn't need it because those are words easy to memorize. I laughed then grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him closed to me.

"If you ever, and I mean ever, make something like this happen without even one conversation on the subject before hand again, you will be in the doghouse." I kissed him then let go of his shirt and handed him back his cards. I tore the ones my mom gave me and threw them in the trash before we walked outside to speak to my rather large family.