Wait For You in 5 Stages

Pt.29 : Past

Today was colder than most days. I hated the cold. I shivered and instantly regretted coming out here. I gripped onto the brick walls from time to time to prevent myself from slipping but eventually made it to the bakery again.

I was too shy to walk in again after being there only a week prior. I slowly walked past, cutting through the building with my eyes, analyzing, watching, looking. He wasn't there.

My mouth was disgustingly dry. My throat felt itchy and my lips were cracking horribly. I rubbed my hands together in hopes to warm up slightly as I walked but the wind was strong and brutal.

As I was looking around at each building, I spotted a billboard with a witch holding up a flame. The words were foreign to me, a constant reminder that he never got to teach me his language. I stared at the flame in her hand for a moment, then looked down at my own. Right..

Ever since I lost my best friend, I had forgotten who I was. My world revolved around him. I grieved not only the life he already lived but the life he could have lived. Every day was filled with guilt, living and doing things without him felt wrong. I mourned things he would never get to experience.

These persistent hauntings caused me to lose myself. A witch. I was never comfortable with being called a witch or preforming any spells either, I only put up with it so we could live. Now, I don't have to protect myself.

With the last fading memories of witchcraft, I was able to channel a small flame in my palms. My face glowed green and my body grew warm. I felt comforted for a moment. For a second, I escaped the torment.

Until the flame buzzed. It twitched from the gust of wind and scorched my finger. I doused the flame, the green aura retreating.

With intensity, a burning memory seared into my head. I remembered what she'd done. What I was told.

The cold metal bars of a cage, stuck in a filthy dark room for days, weeks, with no access to sunlight. How he felt when the chains were first removed, a soreness beyond belief that even he, the strongest creature, felt limp. The warmth of that wolf's breath just before he was about to commit to my...mothers' most horrific order. The teeth sinking into his throat, the warmth of the blood, the gurgle in his voice as he pleaded.

I found myself with my hand wrapped around my own throat, my nails digging into my skin. I slowly released myself, relaxing my furrowed eyebrows and wide eyes.

I stared at the ground for a moment before I crouched down in the middle of the sidewalk, burying myself in the tall snow. I hid my face from the world, weeping, an uncontrollable cry of a grief that tortured me on a beautiful winter afternoon.