The Season of the Witch: Allumage

Chapter One: Self Control

The bright light of the afternoon sun cast through small windows, illuminating the small doll in even smaller hands. It's worn down, fur pulled on with at least one ear from the stuffed bunny hanging loose from long nights spent cuddled up against a child's chest. She continues to twirl it, despite the warnings that it would fall away and become lost. The child's small legs would swing without care, always attempting to reach for the center console of the car when they extended forward. A hand would grab at the tiny foot, giving it a wiggle to bring out a burst of joyous giggles before letting go and vanishing into the haze of sunshine again. Then, a figure loomed in the open space, blocking out the all too brilliant light to leave a halo around the silhouette. She was smiling, nothing but genuine happiness seen in her features, though her eyes were hidden away in the overwhelming haze. She only receives a smile in return, before there's a rush of darkness that moves through the car, like a creeping shadow. For only a split second, the woman's face is seen within the transition - the smile is gone, a deadpan left in its wake before all is lost to the dark.

She can feel the soft fabric against her fingertips, the morning chill dancing over exposed skin, and the ever present ache in her back slowly becoming more noticeable as time drifted on. She was awake now, eyes heavy with sleep, and mind foggy as her head lolled to the side, avoiding the ever present sunrise creeping through the window. It was eerily quiet for a morning like this, knuckles rubbing deeply into her sunken eyes as she glanced at the clock - only a minute before it was set to go off. A minute of sleep lost. It's almost as if the girl has to fight for every ounce of strength to push herself up onto her palms, staring intently at the red numbers in anticipation until the digit finally flipped, the alarm sounding and leaving an unpleasant twist in her gut.

"Alright, alright. Enough," she grumbles as hands frantically grab at the boxy device, pressing at its buttons until the siren comes to an end. In the silence, a heavy sigh follows as her head falls back, drinking in the morning and reliving the already rapidly fading dream. A familiar, yet unknown smile she had only seen just behind her closed eyes, and there it will forever remain. She sets the alarm down at her bedside table, running a hand along her face before she stands for a tall stretch. Wobbly legs carry her through the first floor and down the steps to the equally quiet main floor - she knows no one is there waiting for her, but still she lingers in the hall for any sign of life before moving into the kitchen. A note is left behind, scribbled with haste and left just next to the coffee pot where he knows she'll visit.

"Coffee is in, just hit start! Have a good day, don't wait up for me."

A hardworking, single father of one daughter. She never did wait up for him, it was all very old news to her, and she was more than understanding of his reasons - most times.

"I have to support us somehow, right?" He would say, laughing across the table.

They did have time together, her father wasn't some stranger living under the same roof as her. There were designated meals together, occasional movie nights when he could push through just how tired he was. Not the most present, but not the most absent either, and she was grateful to at least have that. She follows her morning routine, the coffee brews and the bagel toasts, enjoyed together before she heads back up to the bathroom, brushing out the knots that developed from a rough night's sleep, and the morning breath. She trips over her clothes from yesterday, ignoring the hazard for just one more day before tossing it into the bin with today's laundry. Until then, she remains focused on the mission of getting to school, dressing in a large sweater tucked into neatly ironed dress pants. With her bag still mostly left untouched from the day prior, she simply shoves a few items inside before zipping it shut, and taking a few moments to herself on the bed, eyes wandering around the room in absent thought. Plants of various shapes and sizes decorated her room, still and almost sleeping - likely to come to life with leaves stretching for the windows, thirsty for the day's light. Taking in energy, only to give back.