Nanna returned from her usual outing, her emotions more tumultuous than usual.
Would a dog understand human emotions simply because they were raised by humans? Such was my plight. I attempted to explain countless times, only to be met with bewildered stares. Nanna, though understanding to a degree, was the only one who truly grasped me.
As I read, Nanna approached, hanging her scarf on the cupboard door. "Vi, what’s with that boy?" she asked.
"Boy?... Who, Nanna?" I replied, my eyes fixed on the book.
My stomach tightened. "Russ?" I asked, closing the book without marking my page.
I wasn't entirely surprised. I'd seen the simmering rage in his eyes, the subtle shift in his demeanour.
"Who else?" Nanna said, putting the kettle on the stove.
"I overheard Mary gossiping about how ‘bravely’ he had beaten that flirty lad from the military," she said, frustration creeping into my voice.
“These gossiping women are insufferable,” Nanna muttered, pouring the coffee, the tension palpable in the cosy kitchen.
"Ah…" I said, wiping my eyes discreetly. "Nanna, I… don’t think I want coffee now," I said, gauging her reaction.
I noticed the slight shift in her expression, the anxiety beneath her wrinkled brow. All I wanted was to be a normal girl, not a damned witch.
“I just realized I forgot to find a water lily…for that potion you asked me to make… Do you need anything else?” I asked, concealing my distress.
"Vi, I know you're worried. I am too, baby, but..." Nanna trailed off.
"Remember, Vi, sometimes you just have to see people for who they are," she continued, sadness flickering in her eyes.
I saw it all. Felt it all. But I couldn't read myself.
“What do you mean, Nanna? That boy is the jerk here,” I argued. Doubt gnawed at me. ‘Right?’ I asked myself. ‘But what if...’
He was the only one who dared.
“Whatever you say, baby. Love is blind after all. Just be careful, Vi,” Nanna cautioned as I closed the door behind me.
The sky was painted in his favourite colour, a reddish-orange hue. As I walked, I tossed pebbles, narrowly missing Mr. Blakely's head. He muttered a snarky comment, ignoring my apology. He never liked me anyway, blaming Nanna for his hatred.
The evening should have been like any other, meeting under the cherry tree. He made me human, explained emotions through human eyes.
‘Would I be okay without him?’ I wondered, passing the storied buildings of Garahim.
I felt cursed. Who would want a lover whose feelings changed each day?
He still faked a smile, hiding his desire for me to leave. But not yet.
I worried until I reached his door.
He lived in luxury, unlike me, the granddaughter of a so-called witch. I waited, adjusting my voice before knocking.
Russell opened the door, nearly hitting my nose. ‘Russ...’ I blurted, seeing the bruise on his lip.
‘What am I doing here?’ I thought wearily.
“Vi…This…I…” he stuttered, that same emotion in his eyes.
“Can I come in?” I asked awkwardly, smiling as if everything was normal.
“Yeah,” he said, closing the door behind us. He sat at a distance, taking the bottle I offered.
“Apply it...” I said, pointing to my lips. “Nanna’s special,” I said, forcing a smile, clutching my skirt with palms drenched with sweat.
He searched my eyes, seeking something. Pity, perhaps. As if I would die without him.
Just as I was about to leave, he tenderly enveloped my hand with both of his, gently burying his head within the cocoon formed by his palms and the warmth of my own hand.
“Vi…can you…just make me forget you?” he asked, eyes pleading.
“Of course,... if that’s what you want,” I whispered, barely holding back tears that threatened to spill.
Over the course of years there is just one thing I have mastered: delaying the confrontation with emotions that would embarrass me otherwise. I would numb, imagine myself in a black box.
It was over. All over. I ran off. And I was back in that damned black box
I saw it coming, but it still hurt when it became words. He once said, when emotions become words, they cannot be reversed. So this is what he meant...
I ran and ran, passing his favourite flower field, the woods, our little terrain.
It was all gone. I shouldn’t have gone there. If only I were normal…
YOU ARE READING
✨Witch of Garahim✨
FantasyWhen Vienna Fritzelb, a mind prodder witch born 1000 years after the presumed extinction of her kind, finds her lover's life is at stake, to protect him from his evil uncle, the murderer of his parents and the seemingly 'benevolent' king, she decide...
