Consecrated Curses

Chapter One

"A pinch of redthrone, a handful of cloves and a stalking of sage. A stalking? How much is a stalking?"

        Willow was doing what she always did, making a potion. Ever since she was left up to herself for entertainment it had been one of the many things she did to occupy her time.

"Well I guess we just have to find out when we get there." She drifted over to her wall filled with different ingredients. Her fingers danced across the herbs and stones and salts until she found it.

"This should be enough." She pulled out a hefty amount and put it into her mortar and started to grind.

        It wasn't long until she had all the ingredients boiling over her fire place. The shewolf slowly stirred the concoction.

"This is starting to smell kinda weird." She ran back to her bed and flipped through the delicate pages of her mother's spell book. As she tried to find a solution to her ever growing problem frogs started to pour out of the pot and fly all over her room.

        Willow let out a blood curdling scream, one of the frogs had found sanctuary in her hair.

        She was screaming so loud that from even two floors of the huge house below her father could hear her.

        Hearing his daughters screams prompted him to rush to her aide. He was shaking with anger just thinking about what idiocy his daughter had developed today.

        He fumbled as he shoved the brass key into the lock on her thick, heavy wood door.

"WILLOW! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!" He was welcomed by the sight of his daughter launching frogs out of her window.

        His eyes scanned the newly displaced items blanketing the room as frogs hopped through his legs and out of the door.

"Willow. How many times do I have to tell you not to do magic in your bedroom." He scolded the frantic girl.

"I'm sorry, it just got so out of hand. I was just trying to make something to help me sleep." Willow turned and cradled one of the many frogs that covered her room.

"Willow if you need something to help you sleep just ask. I'll get something for you."

        She lied. She didn't want pills that some doctor made to knock her out. She slept fine, what she yearned so deeply for was to forget the twisted, frightful face she saw while she was awake.

"Never mind it's fine. I can manage."

"Alright. I need to leave. We are having dinner with the visiting packs today."

"Well have a nice time."

        Dennis stood at the doorway, his eyes glued on his teenage daughter. She stared back nervous  at the silence between them.

        Without words Dennis walked slowly towards his daughter and lightly kissed the top of her head with his slightly ridged lips.

"Goodbye Willow."

"Goodbye father." After watching her father's figure disappear behind the wood door she waited for the all so familiar sound of the enchanted lock. No matter how many times she pushed and kicked it would not budge. She hated it so much she even considered using black magic, but like the spell she had performed not even ten minutes ago that one resulted in lizards.

        She sadly walked back to her bed, pushed the large dusty books to the side and fell onto her bed in the most dramatic princessy fashion one could imagine.

        She closed her heavily eyelashed eye and thought about what it would be like to go outside. To feel grass in between her toes and to have the wind style her hair in the ugliest fashions.

        She could feel the tears rushing to her eyes. She could barley remember the last full, vivid memory she had of the outside world. All she could remember is putting small yellow flowers into the striking star coloured hair of her mother.

        But now she was dammed at staring at the watery hell outside her window which always seemed to be plagued with a storm.

        As she tried to focus on memories of anything other than her prison shaped as a bedroom the sound of croaking slammed against her eardrums every second.

        Frustrated she grabbed an old chest hidden in the back of her closet and started to fill it to the brim with the excited frogs.

        She found them everywhere, under her bed, in her bookcase, in her desk draws. After what seemed like an hour of searching she finally found the last one.

        Willow tugged on the stubborn chest that just seemed nailed itself into the floor, slowly she made her way to the window.

        Going as quick as she could she started do drop the frogs out the window trying to miss the rocky cliffs that lay below.

        After she dropped the third frog she stuck her head out of the window.

        The strong winds swept up her sliver hair in a tornado around her face. Despite the annoying distraction of her hair all of her attention was given to the fallen frogs. Before they hit the water almost two hundred feet below the disappeared into puffs of brown smoke.

        She smiled and pulled her head back through the window.

        It gave her a shred of relief that frogs short lives were ended peacefully rather than being ended by slamming into rough waters.

        Satisfied with her newly defrogged room she walked across with her lips, usually left in a sharp line, curved in a small smile.

        She surrounded herself with familiar darkness with just a flick switch, went to lay back on her book covered bed and welcomed a peaceful slumber.