Little Witch

Prologue

"Tonight is the day of the Harvest," my mother reminded passing me the chipped china. "Did you remember everything?"

"Yes," I hissed through my teeth. "How could I forget? Well, I couldn't have could I? Not with you reminding me every second."

"Tempest...I just want wants best for you and our family." She took the plate from my hands and placed it in the drying rack. "Our community is-"

"Don't give me that 'our community is our family' bullshit, you think killing your own daughter and lying to her sister about it is what's best?"

"Tempest, baby girl-"

I held up my hand to silence her. "No! This community isn't my family. You aren't my family. Not anymore."

My mother's eyes darkened. She grabbed my arm, fingernails leaving red crescents into my forearm. Her entire face was full of anger. "You do not mess this up. You understand me?"

"Yeah," I breathed, nodding with my teeth clenched tightly. An insult of anger and retaliation on the tip of my tongue being swallowed. "I got it, Mom."

"Good."

Her anger quickly faded and was replaced with a pleasant smile, at least to anyone who didn't know her as I did, as my sister hurried into the room. I lowered my eyes and returned her smile. Davina turned to us dressed in a soft white garment. It was her Harvest dress which was white to represent our purity and faith to the ancestors.

Davina spun in a circle, speaking quickly. "What do you think?"

"Oh, my darling! You look beautiful."

"You think?" She asked. She turned to me, expectantly. "Is it okay?"

"You look beautiful," I nodded. "Help me get dressed?"

I quickly disappeared through our shared bedroom door. My chest felt heavy. I bit my lip, collapsing on my bed. A weight settled beside me moments later and a hand rested on the small of my back. Davina pet my hair for a few minutes. I could feel her energy fueling my own. Our deep bound that began in the womb had allowed us to feel each other's lives for the last sixteen years. In some sense, we're apart of each other's souls, connected at its seams. But she couldn't feel me and hasn't been able to in some time. She's quiet though, about it, I mean. Never asking too many questions.

"Tempest?" The timid voice of my sister asked.

I wiped my dry eyes as if I'd been crying, with the scratchy material of my sweater before rolling onto my back. Davina's wide brown eyes peered down at me, glossed with concern. Yet, despite not asking, she was always worried about me. "I'm alright."

But of course my little twin did not, believe me, she seldom did. I kissed her forehead. Davina was so innocent, born only two hours after me and yet it might as well have been a lifetime. I hated to have to keep this secret from her. The power flowing through her would rage uncontrollably when she knew, knew the truth. As I held her close I thought back to Sophie. She was so right and I was a fool not believe her, this Harvest was nothing but bullshit. Now...I wish I had taken Davina and ran far, far away from this cursed city. It was nothing but trouble.

Davina asked no questions and helped me into my dress. She positioned the red sash around my waist. Each Harvest girl wore a white dress, the only thing separating myself from the other four girls is that sash in the color of blood. It was a sacrifice. To be reborn, we must sacrifice.

My mother was quiet, her lips pursed. She really was not a very pretty woman, and people were often surprised to find out that Davina and I were her daughters. Although Davina paid no mind to our mother's mood, I could see straight through her. Her green eyes flickered to me, boring holes through my skin. I knew what that look meant, "do not ruin this". I'd been lectured enough tonight and the rest of my young life to know this look by heart. She saw me as the troublemaker, Davina as the golden child.

Davina gripped my hand as we approached the cemetery. "I'm so excited."

I just smiled and whispered under my breath, "Fly away little fire."

"What?" She looked up surprised. I just shook my head and forced another smile onto my lips.

The cemetery was surrounded by birdbaths that were lit by fire. The five us were led out like princesses, and I was leading them. The grass was wet with dew and cold against my bare feet. My sister and her friends keeled together in the eye of a crowd of people. I stood standing waiting for Bastianna, the coven's elder, to command me to take my position. I would die, like all of our ancestors did, burned at the stake. Yet, to the girls, it was thought that we would all be reborn. More powerful than ever.

Bastianna began her speech as two men, who I did not recognize, tied me up. My hands were bound tightly around the wooden post, the rope digging into my skin. The other rope went around my waist, just below the sash. I reminded myself to breathe, do not cry and breath. Bastianna looked at Abigail, the first of the sacrifices when a scream was heard. My head snapped up to see Sophie running into the cemetery screaming.

"No! Stop! Bastianna, stop! You have to stop, Bastianna! Please don't do this!" But she was quickly restrained and the was the end of Sophie's fight, the only hope any of us had. She looked at me with red blotchy eyes. I knew what she wanted and I couldn't do it. I retreated, my head down. We both knew that I was a coward.

The two men who tied me up, waited with a flaming torch of wood in either hand. Breath. Don't cry. By that point I was positively sure I was hyperventilating. My heart pounded in my ears and then it happens. The screams. The girl's body fell to the ground with a thump, blood spewing out of her neck. Panic set in, the other girls were restrained as their screams echoed in my ears.

Bastianna tilted my chin up. She smiled at me and held up the knife that was coated with Abigail's blood. And as expected I licked off the blood, gagging at it's salty taste. I know I'm crying now too. Droplets fall down my cheeks and drip off my chin. I was going to die. And then it was hot. Too hot and shrieks pierce my ears. It is not until my name is screamed that I realize I am the one screaming. I'm burning.

Davina was screaming for me.
Her screams overpowered all the other girls and mine.
She was fighting. She was fighting for all the girls there.
And in the moment I was proud.

And then everything was quiet. There was no burning and I was cold. I thought I was dead. "Tempest, can you hear me?" Yes. "It's Davina. We're safe. You're safe. The witches...mom they're all gone. We're going to be okay."

As I listen to Davina continue to sooth my dormant body, something broke in me. It was the eternal, passion filled hatred that burned in my heart and seared through my veins. And even though I was glad to see my mother gone and the rest of the witches, and Davina safe. A tiny part of me knew I would miss her, my mother. But when I started to think about her for too long, that burning fire of hate slammed a metal top out on that flame. My body needed to rest, to heal.

We will never be safe, Davina. Never, not in this cursed place we live.