The Wicked Witch in the Forest

I

Power.

The ability to control people or things.

Power instills fear, creating loyal servants willing to serve and die for you. Power makes living beings submit to your every whim.

No one questions power.

Power is projected until it manifests as a control that takes over your very essence. It blinds you from the truth as you are enslaved to it's wicked tongue, subservient to the ones that master it. Power whispers in your ear with a sinister voice, promises you the world and you foolishly believe it, unable to refuse it. It's too good. The pull is too strong.

Power bends the heads of kings, bows the knees of the strongest men. Power is magic. It's a mystical energy with a terrible influence-  an invisible force taking over your entire body.

But power isn't evil. It doesn't force itself upon you- you choose to let it in. You choose to be blind. You choose to be subservient.

Power isn't greedy. Power doesn't need you. You need it. It is what drives you, what inspires you, what gives you hope, what fulfills your dreams- whether you wield it or obey it.

I neither wield nor obey power. I am power.

It flows through every single vein in my body- infused with every drop of blood I own. It is my spirit. It is my soul. It feeds me.

To me, power is its own entity. We rely on each other. My lifelong companion and most cherished friend. But our relationship is toxic. It is too dependent and like an addict to its poison, I relish the high it gives me. Power brings out the worst in me but it's truly my best side.

I had to give power up.

I was scared of what I was becoming, I couldn't fully embrace it so I let it go.

I don't practice magic anymore. I locked that part of me in a steel box and buried it deep within the confines of my spirit- refusing to look back twice. It was for the best. My magic, my power was too much for this world and that was okay. I didn't need it.

Power didn't make who I am today- the strong confident woman who finds comfort in solitude  deep within the forest.

My home was small. A wooden cabin surrounded by thick and tall trees, protecting me from the outside world. It wasn't much but it was enough. I was comfortable. I was happy.

I wasted the days of my life enjoying the mundane and simple things. Oh how my father would make a mockery of me. I could almost imagine the icy glare of his hazel eyes piercing through me with the deepest scowl on his face. I could almost hear his dark voice, firm and hard,  say 'You disappoint me Athena' his face turnt up at his favorite warrior hiding away in the forest, a coward who was weak and afraid of embracing her true nature.

But I wasn't hiding. And because I contain the darkness within me does not make me weak. It makes me strong and compassionate. It shows I care. He wasn't alive anymore to express his disappointment so his unrested spirit- still lingered and attached to this world- could go screw itself.

My morning started off as every other did these days, with me waking before the sun painted on the black canvas of the sky. A chilling wind blew through my opened window, pinking my cheeks. It was deadly quiet around this time, the forest not quite awake yet.

I made my way to my kitchenette and started a pot of hot water, a simple peppermint brew to start my morning off right. I poured the water into a large mug and steeped the peppermint leaves while I took the ingredients out of the fridge. I spread butter onto a loaf of bread and plated the assortment of fruits I picked yesterday evening. The berries of this forest were the sweetest I had ever tasted.