✓ | Girls of a Feather | #OpenNovellaContest2019

| three |

Annemie

"Who are you?" she asked, hating the way her voice trembled.

You know who it is, her heart whispered, but she didn't want to know. She wanted to be able to pretend that this was all just a nightmare. If she closed her eyes, she'd wake up warm and safe in her bed. Aleta would be fast asleep, but she would sense her sister's sadness and wake up. She'd scoot into Annemie's bed, worming her away under her blankets. She'd stay there until they had both fallen back asleep, just like they had done when they were little girls.

But this wasn't a dream. The witch was real, and she had finally come for her.

"You know who I am," the heks frowned, sidling close enough for Annemie to see the earthy green swirls inked across her weathered cheeks and the colorful beads hanging from her neck. "You saw me that night, years and years ago. I've been watching you ever since, waiting for the day you ventured too far into the woods, hungry for freedom."

Annemie stepped back until she pressed up against the scratchy bark of a tree.

There was nowhere to run. There was nowhere to hide.

She was trapped.

"You're Antsje Pluk," she whispered, looking away as the witch stepped close enough that she could feel her hot, cinnamon breath on her skin. "You're the witch who haunts the woods and devours children." She pressed her lips tight together to quell her trembles, but to no avail.

Mam had been right all along.

Annemie had been naughty, and now she was going to pay for it in flesh and blood.

The witch cackled. The sound echoed through the trees, and birds rustled in the treetops, poking their beaks out with curiosity. Annemie recognized one of them as the bird that had warned her to leave before.

Help me, she pleaded, willing it to look at her with its beady eyes.

It didn't.

"Only half of that is right," Antsje Pluk said, propping Annemie's chin up with one long, gnarled finger. Annemie flinched as she met the witch's glittering amber eyes, the heks' magic twining around her and binding her limbs in place. "I don't eat children," she scoffed. "Where's the fun in that? And besides, they're not even tasty."

Annemie didn't dare to breathe a sigh of relief.

"Don't always believe the tales you hear," Antsje Pluk advised, drawing away. "People like to make monsters out of moonlight and shadows." She studied Annemie, taking in her flimsy nightgown and her shiny slippers. "You'll look pretty with wings," the heks mused.

Annemie stiffened, pulling her coat tighter around her waist, but she couldn't hide from the witch's gaze.

"Poor meisje," she simpered, her eyes softening at the edges. "You must be freezing in those clothes. Let me take you somewhere where you'll be warm and safe." She reached out to take hold of her, but Annemie darted away, her dancer's feet light and nimble.

But not nimble enough.

She stumbled over a branch, tripping to the ground in a tangle of limbs and fabric. She groaned, feeling the tender spots where her bones had struck the dirt. A tear marred the smooth skin of her ballet shoes, and she let out a small sob. The last of her dreams had been ruined.

"Poor, poor meisje," Antsje Pluk repeated, clucking her tongue like a mother hen.

Bending down, she gathered the wreck of a girl up into her strong arms. Against her better judgment, Annemie leaned into the motherly embrace, letting her worries and fears melt away into the warmth.

She fell asleep nestled in the witch's arms. She didn't stir, not even when the heks undid her ballet slippers or hummed a spell in her ear. She didn't wake up, not even when she became a bird.

Her limbs elongated into wings, and her skin turned to feathers, shining gold even in the lack of light. Soft lips sharpened into a hooked beak, lash-lined eyes became small and round, and calloused dancer feet narrowed into thin, stubby claws.

The birds watched her transformation from above, but they were just as powerless as the girl. Bound by the same curse, there was nothing they could do but watch. And wait.

The witch stroked the bird's fluffed feathers, smoothing them down until they gleamed. If she hadn't just made a girl disappear, the gesture could even have seemed affectionate.

One bird snuck away, soaring off into the night with only a backward glance. She headed toward the girl's village as rays of sunlight peeked through the clouds, sprawling shades of pink and orange across the sky.

She didn't have much time before she would be forced to return, but it was enough. It had to be.

If she could get to the girl's sister, there might be hope for them yet.

[ a / n ]

i guess i'm just a fan of writing short chapters haha.

what do you guys think of Antsje Pluk? is she just a monster made of moonlight and shadows, or does she truly mean Annemie harm?

as always, thank you all for reading so far! i hope everyone's enjoying the Open Novella Contest so far! i hope i make it to the next round haha because it'll be good motivation to keep writing this