The Witch and the Lamb

The Tale of the Witch

There was a time in which I thought I'd die.

"What's... what's going on..?"

I woke up, and everything was gone. The place I knew, and the people I associated with.

Gathering my strength, I lifted my heavy body off the floor and gazed out towards the endless darkness that surrounded me. As the cold slowly crept through my thin clothes, my body heat was all but gone. Shivering enough that my bones clattered, my breathing pace increased exponentially, to the point I started hyperventilating.

"I-I can't... w-where am I?"

With my muscles weak as though I've been sleeping for an eternity, I spoke to the surrounding darkness. And of course, no one replied. Not even a sound, as though I was the only one left in the world.

"Anyone... is anyone out there? I... I can't..."

As though liquid ice was being poured into my lungs, the cold was enough to choke me as I force numerous coughs in attempts to relieve myself.

"..."

And soon, I fell back against the floor. With one last thought, that I was simply tossed aside. Without memory, without a single memory, not even knowing, who I was, or what I was doing.

I thought, I was about to die.

However, when I came to, it was like a warm hand was grasped against mine; with enough strength as though there were pleading for me to stay.

My sleep felt like an eternity. When I opened my eyes, I stared at the wooden ceiling as a strange scent wafts through the air. I stared at the same ceiling for awhile as the small sounds of glass clattering, accompanied by the sound boiling of water in a pot made me turn my head.

As I rested against a bed made out of twigs, leaves and a strangely stuffed pillow; a small figure sat huddled by a small controlled fire. With the stove made from stone with a large worn out pot atop of it, the set up seemed rather primitive.

The stranger wore a worn, white dress as their long, dark untreated hair ran down against their back and onto the ground.

"Oh... you're up."

A small voice spoke out as they stood up and turned around.

A small girl greeted me; though she didn't seem too delighted about it as she closed the gap between us in small steps.

"I-"
"Don't talk."

Crouching down next to me, she stared into my eyes, as hers seemed lifeless. Her dark pupils almost frightened me as she didn't smile.

"If you do. You'll die."

Almost about to choke once more, she didn't lighten her words and told me straight as it sent my already cold body straight to zero.

"So, if you don't talk. You won't, so."

Standing up once again, she walks down towards the pot as the lid clatters intensely as the contents boil over.

At that point, a million thoughts raced through my mind.

I'll die if I talk..? What does she mean? Where am I? Who is she? Who am I?

When she spoke, it didn't sound like she was talking to another person. It was as though she was merely speaking to herself. Her voice carried nothing, yet carried something; it was a strange thing.

How weighty, her empty words were. How unusual it was, that a child had such emotionless words. As though the concept of death was nothing to her.

As she opened the pot of boiling contents, another strange odor wafted through the air. Unlike the one that was present, the new was overwhelming as it made me feel a rather naesues.