Good or Evil? (A Short Story) - Part I

 By Talia G

“Fay?” my mother called from downstairs, “You almost ready?”

“Coming Mother!” I yelled from up in my room. I finished with a touch of red lipstick across my lips. I brushed the fuzz off my black corset and pulled down my white skirt to my waist. I grabbed my hair tie and black shoes and ran down the wooden stairs.

“You look lovely dear,” my mother complimented as I entered the dining room.

“Thank you,” I responded, stroking my light brown hair and pulling the hair tie on my wrist. She patted the seat next to her and took the newspaper from my father’s hand. He looked up and nodded to her, then to me, and picked up the fork. I sat down, smiling at the apple pie my mother made for breakfast.

“Excited for your big day?” my father asked, after a few bites. It was my thirteenth birthday. He knew my answer, he was just looking for something to break the silence.

“Of course!” I replied.


My family and I lived in a forest. Not just any kind of forest, more special than that; more magical. We weren’t fully human here, we had magic, but we weren't born with it. We have to earn it. On every girl or boy’s thirteenth birthday, they have to find magic. The magic they get can either be good or evil. And the Gvilltree decides that for them. They go on an adventure to find the tree. Every day it moves to a different spot, so no one really knows where to find it.


“Well?” my mother asks, interrupting my dreaming of the Gvilltree. I’ve heard tons of stories about it, but I’ve never seen it in person. Not a picture or a drawing. I didn’t know what to expect. 

“Well what?” I asked.

“What do you think?” my mother snapped at me. I forgot to mention, our family isn’t like the others either. Usually, parents are either good and good or evil and evil. My parents are different. My father is good and my mother is evil. Sometimes, they can’t control how good or evil they are.

“Sorry, I’m ready,” I answered. I stood up from the table and opened the front door. “Are you?”

“Yes! Of course, I am!” my mother yelled, “Gerald! Stuff that pie in your mouth and get up! We're late!” I giggled and so did my mother. The three of us walked down the path and soon enough we were deep in the forest.

“Can’t you just tell me one thing about the tree? Is it small? Is it big? How many branches does it have?” I asked, too excited.

“You know the rules!” my mother responded.

“Please? Just one thing! It will help me find the tree,” I then asked my father.

“You know the rules,” my father said. I sighed then ran off a few feet further than them. I looked at every tree I could see. No tree was different from the rest yet. No tree stood out to me yet. No tree had a gleaming shine to it yet. But then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw it. It had a glowing gold halo around the whole thing. And beautiful fruit hung from the branches. They had an orange-to-yellow gradient and looked like large strawberries.

“There!” I announced to my parents. They smiled at each other, proud I found the tree so quickly. They slowly walked over as I ran and started jumping. I flew my hands in the air and tried to grab the fruit. They were up high and it seemed like they just kept getting higher and higher every time I jumped. I knew I couldn’t ask my parents for help. I had to do this on my own. I jumped as high as I could and grabbed one of the large branches, pulled myself up and sat high up in the tree. I could finally reach one of the berries. I held it up high to show my parents. A tear ran down my father's cheek and I smiled. All I had to do was take one bite, one bite and I had my magic. I would know who I am. I looked at my parents, then at the berry, then back at my parents again.

“It’s OK, take a deep breath,” my father said, softly. I nodded, closed my eyes, and listened to the woods for a moment, taking it all in. When I opened my eyes, I was ready to take a bite. I jumped down so I could enjoy the berry on ground level. I then took a huge bite of the it. I beamed at its taste. It tasted like my favorite food, apple pie, but with a hint of something. A hint of magic.

“What did you get?” my mother asked, eager. My hand was shaking as the fruit started to turn a different color. “White means good, black means evil,” I kept repeating in my head. I gasped as the color fully appeared. I did not know how to react. I did not know what it meant.

“Gray,” I said aloud, “Gray.” I stood there, blankly looking at my parents, hoping they would say something. But they did not. They stood there too, blankly looking at me. Thoughts kept rushing through my brain, filling my brain up with questions that felt like a heavy weight on my shoulders. “What does this mean? Has anyone ever have gray before? Are my parents disappointed in me?” And the worst of all: “Does this mean I’m… nothing? Does this mean I don’t have any magic at all?” My parents were still standing there, talking to each other under their breath so I wouldn’t hear.

To Be Continued...