The
person I called my mother was not good to me. She screamed at me all the
time -- her eyes constantly filled with hate. She verbally abused me. She
even hit me when she was just in a bad mood -- which was most of the
time. She acted as if she felt ashamed of me. When she taught me Black
Magic, I directed the hate I felt for her to others, weaving it into the
magic spells I cast on them. Now I see that the hatred and resentment I
wove into those spells only came right back to me. I reaped exactly what
I sowed. I could say I didn't know any better, but I did. I just refused
to listen to that inner voice -- my conscience. As far as I was
concerned, I had no conscience, felt no remorse for what I was doing. My
conscience was buried, with no chance of seeing the light of day. Yet, I
knew something was wrong, for I was not a happy person. How could I be?
But I would not allow myself to think about such things -- to try to
analyze why I was not happy. That is, until you came along, Dorothy. It
took you, with your deep understanding, to bring me to a new realization
-- a new beginning.
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