There were some who called him God. Others called him the Devil. Me, I called him Uncle Frank. Frank had always been my mom's eccentric brother; wearing cloaks and robes, speaking in made-up languages, and talking about made-up places and creatures. And even though I didn't see him much, he was an awesome uncle.

It was the evening of my sixteenth birthday when a knock sounded from the mirror on my vanity, which both excited and terrified me. Looking into it, my reflection waved at me before pointing and nudging her head towards the closet. Slowly, I sauntered over to the closet and opened it, my heart in my throat as my imagination ran wild with all manner of horrors that could be awaiting me.

However, among my clothes and shoes, there stood Uncle Frank with a big smile on his face and a gift bag in his hand. He looked the same as ever with his big green eyes and olive-colored skin, but he'd traded his robes in for a labcoat overtop a maroon turtleneck, black dress pants, and a shiny pair of black cowboy boots. As always, Uncle Frank’s hair was wavy, wild, and full of volume, giving him the look of a deranged hobo, and his scraggly beard didn't help matters.

“Uncle Frank! Why-HOW-are you in my closet?” I asked him as I hugged him. “Wrong turn at Albuquerque,” he smiled and winked, quoting my favorite cartoon character as a kid, Bugs Bunny. I laughed and playfully smacked his arm as he continued, “As my one and only, not to mention my favorite, niece, I very well couldn't forget your birthday, could I?”

He shoved the gift bag into my hand before strutting over to my bed and sitting on it. “Your mom would kill me if she knew what I brought you, and she for damn sure wouldn't let you have it, which is why I used the closet to deliver it to you, personally. So, go on then. Open it!”

I looked at the plain pink bag that he'd thrust into my hands and pulled out the white tissue paper inside until I saw it; a glass bottle with purple liquid swirling inside it. I freed the bottle from its paper prison and cocked my head as I looked between it and him. “Uh, Uncle Frank? W-what is it?”

Frank smiled a toothy grin and responded, “That, my dear niece, is the Essence of a Granted Wish. Extremely valuable, extremely powerful, and extremely damn hard to fit into a bottle.” At that, he winked and laughed.

I shook my head and chuckled next to him. I was used to his illusions and tricks; such as the mirror, or him appearing in my closet. But a granted wish? There was no way to guarantee that. “Oh, come on, Uncle Frank. Tell me what it really is,” I pouted.

Uncle Frank scowled and shook his head. “Like your mother, I see. A non-believer. Well,” he said as he jumped to his feet and rolled up the sleeves of both his labcoat and turtleneck, “we’ll just have to change that. Here, let me show you.”

He took the bottle from my hand and uncorked it. He poured a tiny bit into his mouth and swallowed, followed by a belch that smelled strangely of elderberries, sage, and motor oil. “Man, I'm starving. I sure wish I had a cake right now,” he said with a wink.

My lights flickered and there was a small puff of smoke coming from my vanity as an elaborate birthday cake had suddenly appeared atop it. My jaw dropped and I went wide-eyed. “That was… magic. Real magic. It's always been real magic, hasn't it?”

Uncle Frank nodded, his smile wide and covering his whole face. “So, this will grant any wish? No matter what?” I thought about my dad, who had passed away five years ago, and how badly I missed him. Uncle Frank then suddenly winced and grabbed at his ribs before replying, “All magic comes at a price, my dear niece. Are you ready to pay the price?” I thought again of my dad. To bring him back, I would pay any price. No matter what. I nodded, and Uncle Frank smirked. “Excellent,” he replied with a smirk far more wicked than I'd ever seen before.