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It was noon when my dad and cousin refused to enter Hex: Old World Witchery, the most famous shop in Salem. We were all quite exhausted already because of the early trip and our eagerness to see and shop everything we could in the city of witches. But the reason that left them standing in the sidewalk had nothing to do with tiredness. Until that moment every shop we entered was just like any other one, with the exceptional feeling of being… well, in Salem. There were overpriced Harry Potter products, candles, t-shirts with witches sayings, witches' hats, witches' brooms, witches keychains, and Dorothy’s ruby slippers that got me staring at the window shop for five whole minutes. And although this might look like a negative point for some travelers, it didn’t stop me or my travel companions to wander the city in awe and with as many bags as we could carry filled with all the clichés tourists loves. We mainly shop in Essex Street, one of the most beautiful streets in The United States. The path is made of red and grey cobblestones not perfectly aligned, which gives you the peaceful feeling of walking on history. But for a more deep experience, there are some points along the street length where you feel the airstream of fresh air that is formed because of its surroundings. There are large trees and light posts with figurehead artwork of different painted women displayed on both sides, which is quite macabre when you don’t know the history behind it and leave for your imagination to figure out the reason for its constant presence. And talking about macabre, not even all these figureheads reunited together in a dark night could match my dad’s and cousin’s fear of Hex: Old World Witchery once in front of its doors. The window displayed a few bits and pieces of what you could find inside. Since candles to Wiccan books, brooms not fitted to sweep and what I would later realize was a Baphomet statue. Resuming, a taboo made into a shop. Although the skulls and dark atmosphere couldn’t hold me back, what really pushed me inside was the say in one of the windows stating it was for those who still believe in magic. Leaving my family behind, it felt like jumping into a life-changing adventure. Everything inside whispered history and fantasy, as if passing the doorstep sent you to another universe. One where the chaos met peacefulness and let you breathe the sweet aroma of the light incenses. Every space was filled with products mutinously displayed with perfection. But notice that I didn’t say disorganized, for that was the last thing it appeared. There was an altar where a cauldron was filled with small written papers, probably wishes; two daggers so very different from each other, a big centralized candle. All of it harmonized in size with goddess and faeries statues. That shop had everything a witch of the 21st century could wish for. Unfortunately, becoming a baby witch wasn’t my calling in that adventure. The purpose of visiting each and every witchcraft shop was to grant one of my mother’s wishes, the essential oils she wanted. And the true trial was getting the courage to interact with people I didn’t know without the aid of my family. I was very insecure at the age of sixteen and a mere unexpected change of words could leave me blabbering and wishing to dig up a hole to hide. So, when in the face of my biggest fear of saying something wrong in English to a stranger, all by myself, I gave up. As I was turning around to head back to the sidewalk, I froze. Right there beside the door, in a small and violet-colored room that I didn’t see when I entered the shop, sat an old man looking right into my eyes. So between Dracula looking man and surpassing my social fear with the sympathetic lady, I got my mom the essential oils from the shop. Looking back, I realize our full trip wasn’t just a traveling experience, but a great way to put all of us outside of our comfort zones.