The witch's diary

Before it all began...

   "How are we going to find something so small in this huge forest?" Margaret swatted a clingy mosquito out of her face. The branched cracked beneath her heavy boots as she followed her friend through the never ending trees.
   "I'm not sure...we just need to keep our eyes open." Isabelle said, surveying the big clearing that appeared before them. She stopped walking.
   "This looks like a good place, no?" She asked, looking at Margaret.
    Margaret furrowed her eyebrows and glanced around. "Yes, it does."
   "Why do you look so worried suddenly?" Isabelle looked surprised.
   "It's nothing," Margaret brushed it off, "let's start looking here."
   The two girls walked into the small clearing. All around were trees and bushes, and many annoying mosquitoes. This would be a perfect place for the pouch to be hidden at. They bent down, each one carefully going over the dirt and twigs with their hands, trying to feel for anything out of place.
   A while past in silence, and Margaret sighed. "I don't think it's here. Or maybe it is, who knows. It's impossible to find it."
   "Don't be such a pessimist, Marge," Isabelle rolled her eyes. "We have to find it. We will find it."
   "But the forest is endless!" Margaret waved her hands around her. She had enough. As she stood up for the ground, her dress got caught on a sharp branch and tore off a piece of the soft blue fabric.
   "Oh, look! Now my dress is ripped!" She whined, looking down at her torn dress.
   Isabelle didn't reply, and Margaret turned around and opened her mouth to once again declare that her dress was ripped. What she saw made her freeze. Her mouth remained open and her eyes grew wide with disbelief. Isabelle was crouched over a dug-up pile of dirt, and in her hands was a small, dark, intricately sewn pouch.
   The stayed frozen for a moment, each in their position. Margaret was the first one to move. "You...you found it??" Her voice was quiet and full of total shock, she couldn't believe what she was seeing. "You found it!" She exclaimed, convincing herself this was real.
   Isabelle looked up, her hands still clutching the pouch. A smile broke out on her face, and her eyes were glowing with excitement.
   "Marge! We found it!" She jumped up, and ran over to her friend. "Look how beautiful it is."
   They admired the gold, tiny patterns sewn onto the little pouch. Isabelle turned it over in her hands a few times, making sure to keep her grasp strong on it.
   "Should we open it now?" Margaret asked quietly, a hint of worry crept into her voice, and she tried to push it away. A single though was flashing in her head and she couldn't possibly ignore it. What if the legend was true?
   "Isabelle," she started cautiously. "What if the rumors are true?"
   Isabelle didn't hear her, her eyes were glued to the pouch in her hand. It was almost as if she was transfixed by it.
   "Isabelle!" Margaret called her name loudly. Isabelle still didn't budge.
   Margaret nudged her friend and called again, "Isabelle!"
   This time Isabelle lifted her head and blinked a few times. "What?"
   Margaret hesitated for a moment before speaking. "What if the rumors are true?"
    "Oh, please," Isabelle let out a small laugh, "we found the pouch and we're perfectly fine! There's nothing to worry about, Marge. We just need to go back to the mansion now." She seemed filled with excitement, and she looked at Margaret expecting to see the same in her eyes. Margaret's pale face indicated otherwise.
   "I have a bad feeling, Isabelle." Her hands were trembling slightly, and the worry in her voice was growing by the second.
   Isabelle looked down at the pouch in her hands, and then back up at her friend. "Marge," she said, "let's run back home, okay? Everything will be ok."
   Margaret nodded, and they both headed into the thick woods once again, leaving the clearing behind.
   "Do you remember the way?" Margaret asked hopefully.
   Isabelle nodded. "From here." She pointed to a path of crushed branches and leaves, a sign their heavy boots had left on the way there. "We just have to follow our footsteps."
   A tall tree with outstretched branches was blocking them, and Margaret pushed the branches out of the way so they can start hurrying back on the path they had created.
   A blood curdling scream escaped Margaret's mouth the second the branches cleared the view ahead. A large, saliva-dripping bear was standing a few feet away, its hungry eyes fixed on them. Panic instantly shot through both girls' body, and they stood there rooted to their spot with terror. The bear growled and it's sharp teeth glistened in the sun like sharp knives ready to kill.
   "Run!" Isabelle shrieked, turning on her heals and breaking out in a speedy run. Margaret followed right behind, running frantically after her friend. They didn't look back, but the bear's heavy breathing
And pounding steps left no doubt that the bear was right behind them. They ran as fast as they could, thrashing the air as branches hit them on the way.
   Margaret was out of breath, but there was no way she was slowing down. The adrenaline pumped the blood through her veins, as she focused only on the way ahead. She noticed that she could no longer hear Isabelle running beside her, and a horrible thought made her gulp in panic. She wanted to turn around and see if her friend was beside her, but the fear of the bear chasing her kept her running ahead.
   Where is Isabelle?? Did the bear catch up to her?? The thoughts pounded inside of her like banging hammers. She was too caught up in those thoughts to notice a fallen log laying on the ground ahead of her. She ran full speed into it, tripping on her feet and landing face down with a thud. She tried to get up and continue running, but her vision was clouded and a sudden tiredness spread throughout her body. A painful moan escaped from her blood filled mouth, and a few seconds later everything went black.