HISTORY OF WITCHES

INNOCENCE

I remember the meadow, vibrant with wildflowers, where I chased butterflies with abandon. My laughter echoes along with the wild, my carefree joy that seemed to match the rhythm of the earth. I was six years old, with a heart full of wonder and a soul full of magic. I didn't know then that my life would take a dramatic turn, that my curiosity and sensitivity would set me apart.

As I look back, I see my mother, Elara, watching me from the doorway of our cottage. Her smile was warm but her eyes held a hint of caution. "Arachne, come inside!" she called. "It's time for your lessons."

I reluctantly said goodbye to the butterflies and skipped towards the cottage, my blonde pigtails bouncing behind me. I didn't know then that those lessons would become a prison, or that my innocence would be the very last thing that would set me free.

As I entered the cottage, my mother's hands were worn from years of hard work, she guided me to the small table where my lessons awaited. But today's lesson wasn't about herbs or healing. Today, my mother wanted to teach me how to be an elegant wife.

"Arachne, a woman's place is beside her husband," she said, I noticed her voice held a hint of sadness. "You must learn to sew, to cook, and to manage a household. These are the skills that will serve you well in life."

I nodded reluctantly though my mind wandered back to the forest, where I'd rather be. But my mother's words were laced with an unspoken warning: this was the path laid out for me, and I must follow it.

She handed me a needle and thread as she show me how to stitch a perfect seam. But my fingers fumbled, and the thread tangled in my hands. I felt a surge of frustration, and I felt my mother's patience woring thin.

"Arachne, focus!" she chided. "A wife must be skilled with her hands. What will your husband think if you can't even sew a decent dress?"

I bit back my retort, I was feeling the weight of expectation settling upon me. I wonder if my mom knew I was still six years old, that my hands were better suited for climbing trees than holding a needle. I wonder if she knew that I had no desire to be an elegant wife at such age, that my heart still longed for adventure.

My mother's eyes screamed words she has not spoken and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of doubt. But then, she patted my hand."You'll learn, Arachne. You must. Your father wants the best for you, and this is the way to ensure a good marriage."

I nodded, feeling a knot form in my stomach. As the lesson dragged on, I made mistake after mistake, my stitches were uneven and clumsy. My mother sighed as she kept on encouraging "Try again, Arachne. You can do better." But I couldn't. My heart wasn't in it. My mind wandered to the forest, to the trees and plants, to the beauty it's holds.

The lesson finally ended, i felt a mixture of relief and frustration as I put down the needle and thread, my mother's gaze still lingered on me, I knew that look, the one that said she wouldn't give up on me, no matter how stubborn I proved to be.

"Let's take a break, Arachne," she said finally. "We'll try again tomorrow." I nodded, feeling a surge of gratitude and freedom. Tomorrow seemed far away, as I left the room, my mind began to wander once more to the forest, I couldn't resist.
I escaped to the backyard, seeking solace in the familiar scent of the flowers and the gentle hum of bees.

Our cottage was surrounded by a lush garden, where my mother grew all manner of plants for healing and cooking. I knew every inch of this garden, every plants and it fruits mother had made sure I did.

As I wandered back to the forest near our cottage, I stumbled upon a hidden patch of wildflowers, their colors were vibrant and beautiful. I felt a sense of connection with these flowers, they seem to grow freely and untouched by humans. As I sat down among them, feeling the soft petals against my skin, I breath in their sweet fragrance.