Dark Magic (Sebastian Romance)

The night my life was Destroyed

       it's easily to forgotten that sometimes things are ripped away from us in the blink of an eye. This i know as being the young daughter of a witch. I remember being pulled away, from my mother Ruth, who was taken from me, or should it be the other way around- oh my look at me mulling over things you probably don't know yet, let me re introduce myself here, i'm Elaine, a rather youthful witch, you probably get the thought of witch, and think of a million year old hag, with stringy grey hair in every direction, long pointy nose, wrinkles scattered across the face like  like wind scared sand from the deserts of egypt.  Sound familiar? yes, you've heard the tales im sure. Well i'll set you straight, though some look like that, not all of us do, infact almost all look like ordinary people. you can't really tell the difference. Now what if i tell you that some witches are tall, slim, large blue eyes with  eyelashes that look like a butterflys wings, and porcelain skin to complement their long wavy brown hair, that comes down to drape their large breasts, lifted high by long thin body, accommodated by even longer petite legs, would you believe me then? well, if you dont then, you may not believe in my story then, well, lets start from the beginning shall we?

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       I sat under the shade of a large roan tree as the day had progressed, intrigued and enchanted by my book, The steam house" by Jules Verne in 1880, A French novel recounting the travels of a group of British colonists in the Raj, in a wheeled house pulled by a steam-powered mechanical elephant. Verne uses the mechanical house as a plot device to have the reader travel in nineteenth century India. The descriptions are interspersed with historical information and social commentary. this book was a gift from my mother for my birthday, she was not my real mother, she found me in the forest as a little girl, who’s mother was killed by witch hunters. but even still she mothered me after her own daughter had been struck down by pneumonia as an infant. i've lived with her for the past 22 years of my life, she was growing old now, but sitting under the shade, of the old roan tree on the hill next to the small little cobble that we shared, she still kept up with the small garden that we were able to keep successfully because of me, as i kept them alive, she knew of what i was, rather its more of the old, making things happen while i was a small child, such as making it rain inside the house, something not normally happens with normal children, i was quite the handful, i feel bad, but as i grew older i became more into the world of books, and days would go by without me realizing it, and before i knew it, it was growing dark. and my mother was calling for me to come in for dinner.

       I closed my book, calling that i was coming. Rounding the corner of the brick cobble house, i saw my mother Ruth standing in the kitchen glancing at me from over her shoulder with her dulling brunette hair, and soft lips parted into a smile, complementing her hazle eyes that often gazed out wondering what was out there, her long tattered and faded purple skirt was bound by a small loose and sloppily tied corset, protected by her matching faded purple shawl also protecting her slim arms, with most of the tassles torn off, or missing, the shawl had seen many of years of abuse. She turned around with the small amounts of food but still larger than anyone of our neghbors meals, that we would call dinner. small baked potatoes, with even less amounts of the chicken that was slaughtered that morning, covered in the basil and rosemary that i would find in the forests net to our cobblestone home. we did well for what standing we were, we didn't have much, but thanks to my craft, i was able to produce much more food for the two of us than the others would have at our poverty level, but i could tell she was still nervous about how much we ate, because the neighbors were getting suspicious. though none of this would be blamed everyones crops were failing, why didn’t ours? its something i understand her worry about, but i’m not letting us suffer any more than we have to.

    Dusk was slowly approaching as i sat down at the rickety table that was our own. Ruth placing the dinner on the table, we had hardly talked as we started to eat. it was unlike Ruth who was cheerful and always was friendly towards me.

“What's wrong mother, is something wrong?” i pondered rather distressed by the unusual quietness. She looked at me without emotion, and i felt my stomach drop as she said,

“The neighbors suspect us of witchcraft dearry. I’m worried about you.” she said quietly, i shook my head in disbelief, no, that can't happen, and we all know this, i felt horrible, that maybe i would have gotten her into a horrible mess.

“I dont want you to be out too much, try not to be in the forest as much-” she started before i began to cry,

“Sweety, its going to be okay, we’ll be okay,” she lulled, getting up to wrap her arm around me, who had started to cry. wrapping her shawl over my shoulders she kissed my forehead as she pulled me closer to her as we sat in the darkening room, for quite some time, before darkness had overcome the small home in the forest. we curled up in the stack of hay covered in blankets for the night, i curled up close to her, wrapping my arms around her waist, like i would do when i was little, like before i knew she wasn’t my real mother, as she stroked my thick seal brown hair.

“I love you my dear, just know.” she began,

“I love you too mother, i’m really-“i began,

I was interrupted by Ruth jumping up quickly with a gasp, following her gaze, i saw glowing lights, torches.  chanting just outside was heard, ‘Burn the witch.’ my heart jumped, as they came in, men ready to kill. i stammered back, shocked, scared, all i heard was my mother screaming, for me to run, tears in her eyes as she pushed me out the back entryway, before she was grabbed, taken away but i couldn’t leave her, but it was too late they disregarded me, the took my mother, and as i chased after them they were gone. my mother was gone. not long i could see a large fire in the distance. i knew what was happening, i couldn't let my mind wander to what happened. her shawl still around my shoulders, tears streamed down my face, as he fire dimmed after a while, inevitably i was left all alone in the small house, knowing that i was truly alone, nobody left, i had nothing but my memories now, and the books, Ruth had given me over the years we shared. some childrens books, some romance, adventure, all will be with me. But before me a voice came to me, a figure standing over me, a clad in black butler, with a deviant smile, the devil himself.

    “My, You have quite the compassion, i would like to offer you a position, no skills necessary, i’ll teach you everything you need to know.”

    and just like that, my life was torn to shreds. and yet, that's also where my new life began as well, perhaps i’m in a book of my own.