The door flew open and out sprawled the boy. The chewed remains of the lock hung limply from the door, and the mouse (now back in its rosebush) was radiating self-satisfaction. Before the boy could regain his footing, the witch strolled out. Despite the smile curving her lips, there was something in her eyes; something stronger.
"She! Her! She's a witch!!" The boy shrieked, his finger quivering accusingly.
"Darling, please stay. I don't want to eat you, I only want company."
"Sure, that explains the child stew you're cooking."
He saw it. Just as the cat had hoped.
"I didn't mean to eat her. I was terribly sad that she did not love me and in my moment of weakness my instinct overpowered my will."
The cat, despite herself, felt a stab of pity for this creature. The boy on the other hand felt anything but. He scrambled backwards away from the old hag, a look of utter revulsion on his cloud-white face.
"Not. So. Fast." The gate swung shut, and the flowers that had seemed so innocent and beautiful before clustered around the boy, jostling him towards the feet of the witch. She stood tall, emanating power, but her eyes shone with unshed tears.
"I don't want to hurt you. All I want is to stop my terrible loneliness, but I can see that you will never care for me."
Diving once more towards the gate, the flowers buffeted the boy backwards, a particularly vicious violet hurling him back at the ground.
"However, I will only let you leave if you give me something in return. Ember, I know you are there. It is time that you should show yourself, that is, if you want to save your precious human by staying with me."
The cat froze; shell shocked; immobilised. She was caught in a moment in time, her mind in turmoil. If she revealed herself to the witch, then wouldn't they both be eaten? But on the other hand, she had sensed real loneliness and fear in the witch, so maybe she would be content with her and release the boy.
Then again, wouldn't it simply be assigning her fate to be eaten? Would she really sacrifice herself for the boy? Now was the time she had to choose to save her own fur, or to defy the selfish cat stereotype and sacrifice herself for her human. She stepped out from behind the bush, her head held high. She had gone this far, she wasn't going to turn back now.
"What?! You want that mangy old fur ball! She's barely got any meat left on her," the boy scoffed, and Ember shrunk back, the boy's words tearing at her insides.
"If it means getting out of this sick place, then sure, do what you want with her." At this, the cat crumpled to the ground, and the witch, now looking more concerned then scary, hurried to pick her up.
YOU ARE READING
Sickly Sweet
FantasyOnce upon a time in a sickly sweet house lived a sickly sweet old woman. But all that smells sweet is not as it seems. She knows this, but she has no way to warn the boy. His fate is in her hands, or should I say paws, as they encounter the truth be...
