Nosey Nora

By Kate O’Sullivan

T.W.: Implied SA
A witch could be described as many things, such as wise, wistful, mischievous, or even arcane, but none of these traits are what you need to be afraid of. The observant witch, however, can be your greatest friend, or your worst enemy. In Nora’s case, she could be described as knowledgeable, but many preferred to call her “Nosey Nora.” 

Nora finger-brushed her curly hair and smoothed her apron as she emerged into the shop. Herbs and roots covered the wall in different sized glass jars while mortar and pestles, scales, and all sorts of strange trinkets littered the counter. With a flick of her wrist, a sign flipped on the door to “open.” Before long, a young woman peeked into the shop. Her hair was tied back in a bright red ponytail, highlighting the bags under her eyes. 

“Hi, it’s Penny, right?” Nora shouted from behind the counter. 

“That’s me. How’d you know?” 

“No one else in town has red hair but your family,” Nora said, walking over to greet her. “I’m Nora, but I guess you knew that. Please sit.” 

Penny sat on the worn leather couch across from Nora, fidgeting with a string on her skirt. 

“How can I help you today?” Nora asked.

“I heard you can help with nightmares.” 

“Yes, I can. What are the nature of the nightmares?” 

Penny’s jaw clenched, and her eyes scanned the room like someone may overhear. “Do you have to know to make them go away?”

“Yes, and no. Dreams are fickle, they’re a different kind of energy. They can’t be created or destroyed, but they can be manipulated. Understanding the nature of the nightmare lets me know the best way to deal with it.” 

Penny nodded in understanding, but her lower lip trembled. “They’re really bad. The worst kind you can have…y’know what I mean?”

Penny met Nora’s eyes, and she didn’t have to say anymore. Nora recognized the hurt that lived there. It was the kind of hurt that you could feel in every nerve of your body, long after it had happened. The body always remembers, even if we wish it wouldn’t. 

“Is it based on real events, or fiction?” 

“Real.” Penny whispered. 

Nora’s stomach tightened. “I can help you.” 

“Really?” 

“Really. Come with me.” Nora walked to the back door, gesturing for Penny to follow. Penny rose on shaky legs, still uncertain, craning her neck to see inside the dark space. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t make you into a pie,” Nora joked.

“That’s very reassuring,” Penny said, managing a weak smile. 

Nora led Penny past the walls of potions to one filled with books. Her fingers danced atop a few volumes before she pulled one like a lever, revealing a doorway to another room. 

“Not witchcraft, just good carpentry,” Nora chuckled. 

The hidden room was nearly empty, save for one ornate crystal bowl in the center that levitated on its own. The back wall was covered in bottles holding wispy white dancing strands. Some even had little glowing yellow orbs, like miniature stars. 

“These are dreams. Most of them were given up or taken for one reason or another, and I safeguard them.” 

“What do you do with nightmares?” Penny asked. 

“I collect those too.” 

Nora made a pulling motion and the shelf rotated 180 degrees. Where before there were white wisps, red and black strands writhed against each other, violently swirling and reforming every second. 

“So many. Isn’t there a limit?” Penny asked. 

Nora eyed her, weighing whether she should tell Penny how everything really works.

“First I’ll ask you this: do you know why they call me Nosey Nora?” 

“They say you eavesdrop on everyone at the tavern, or send ravens or spiders to spy on them,” Penny said, blushing.

“Yuck! Ravens yes, spiders no,” Nora said, gagging, “The townspeople are right of course, I am nosey. But they haven’t figured out why.” 

She gestured to the vials, “You’re smart to notice. There is a balance I have to keep between the dreams and nightmares I possess. Eventually I have to return them to people’s minds.” 

“Wait,” Penny said, holding her hands up in understanding. “You give people nightmares?” 

“Yes, that’s why I sit eavesdropping at the tavern. I send the nightmares to those who I think deserve them, and steal their dreams away.” 

“That’s so wrong! You can’t just play puppets with their minds,” Penny cried. 

“I know,” Nora sighed. “Most townsfolk here are kind, so I end up taking a lot of the nightmares myself.” 

Penny blinked in confusion. “You…give yourself nightmares?” 

“If it means someone like you will be free of them, yes. I do.” Nora’s eyes were distant, as if recalling all the horrors she’d seen that weren’t her own. 

“What will you do with mine?” Penny asked. 

“If you approve, I’ll send it to the person responsible. It’ll modify itself to their mind, so it won’t resemble yours.” 

“Yes,” Penny whispered after a moment, “Please make it go away.” 

“Close your eyes.” Nora pulled a crystal wand out of her pocket. She held the wand up to Penny’s forehead and made a slow pulling motion. An awful writhing red stream slithered from her head like a snake before catching it in an empty vial and corking it tightly. 

“All done. You can open your eyes.” 

“It really won’t come back?” 

“It can’t, it’s locked up here until I do a return-to-sender spell.” 

Penny paused for a moment, then held out an outstretched finger. “Pinky promise?” Nora smiled, she hadn’t pinky promised anything since she was a girl. 

“Pinky promise,” she said, taking her pinky. 

Nora waved goodbye to Penny before returning to her wall of nightmares. Her fingers hovered over the worst of them, containing years worth of agony, despair, and fury, bottled and hungry. She selected one, then two, then another three. 

“There are fates worse than death,” Nora said. “And some people deserve to meet them.” 

She smiled as the spell commenced. He would not sleep for a very, very long time.