The Treacherous Day

When I woke up that morning everything was the same; I knew myself, I trusted myself and I was happy but the events of that day changed me and broke me beyond repair. Everyday since then, I can no longer see myself in the mirror. My eyes won't let me.

No one wants to look the monster that hides beneath their bed in the eye.

That particulular morning I had woken up a half past six and dragged myself to the bathroom just like anyother morning. I had munched and crunched on frosted cornflakes and then left the warmth of my home to step into the bitterness that lay on my doorstep. I had walked and tripped on uneven paving stones as the sky grew sadder but managed to reach the bus shelter before it could start to cry.

I should've known then that that day would be the my ruin; I'd felt it, an unusual coldness, it had been there since I'd risen from my slumber. It was a coldness that I couldn't shake off.

An electric blue van pulled up at the busstop and threw out two men of similar stature dressed in grey. One of them placed a cloth over my mouth as the other took hold of my legs and they loaded me into their van.

Thinking back, I could've run but I didn't; I could've tried to fight back but I didn't; I should've chosen to keep my mouth shut... I didn't.

The second time I woke up that day was to find myself stuck in a chair; there were no chains and no rope. I couldn't move. The room was black with grime and a large spider's web spread across the entire area of the room sitting just inches above my head.

"I see you've finally decided to open your eyes." Aman knocked on the dirt covered window and smiled menacingly at me. He'd seen my soul - I know he had. He'd seen my greatest fears and I knew exactly what he was because he was my father once.

I recalled a time when I had loved him, as every son loves his father, but his beliefs could never allow him to truly love his family. He is what we call a 'Conflictor'; he's a witch that hunts other witches. It's a bit contradictory don't you think?

After his assassination of my mother and failure to kill me, I had moved in with my aunt and had been plotting my revenge since.

It didn't do me a lot of good though did it?

I was shaken from my thoughts when the traitor opened his mouth again, "the spider on that web, can you see her?"

I nodded in reply; he didn't deserve to hear my voice.

"Her poisin is lethal to witches," he paused and grinned. "One bite offers you a slow and agonising journey to your grave," he sung.

"Why don't you come in here then?" I retorted in anger. He had driven my voice out of me.

He ignored me, "they are beautiful creatures, aren't they?" He attempted to entice a conversation but soon gave up when he discovered it would be one-sided. "I just have a few questions. When you answer, then you'll be set free," he made an attept to sound reasonable. "If you don't..." He gesture to the abnormally large  arachnid before turning anway from the window slightly whilst making a mocking sad face.

I don't know what I was thinking at that moment. How could a person be so selfish? I answered every question he asked. Yes, I was under a truth charm but I could've fought it; some witches are strong enough. I let cowardice invade my mind and as I walked home on the uneven paving stones and under the miserable sky, I had thought to myself and know still that whether they knew it or not, I had betrayed them. 

They, of course, would forgive me and tell me it wasn't my fault but they were my kind, my family, and I let them down. I t could never be the same, I couldn't stay there, I had to leave. I knew things would be different from now on.