The White Witch.


Week 47: A story about a magic spell.


Ever since she was a little girl, she’d always felt as though she was strange, different. From the outlook, she looked like an ordinary girl, frizzy black hair, olive skin and crystal blue eyes. But when she grew up, she began to notice things about her, that were not so ordinary. She could make lights flicker and glass shatter, she woke up floating above her bed and set her history textbook on fire when she was angry. Her eyes changed colour whenever something odd happened, they would turn to a violet colour and her hair now curly had purple streaks running through them.

Her parents noticed the change in their daughter and sent her away to a boarding school, hoping to educate the strangeness out of her. It did not work. And by the time she was eighteen years old, she discovered she could control water, wind, fire and earth. The last gift, or curse, as her parents said, came when she was on her way home from work. Her parents had thrown out her things, leaving her on the doorstep. In a blind rage, she cursed, a strange language rolling off her tongue and she set the house on fire. Panic stricken and terrified, she ran away.

With the little she had, she sought refuge in the woods, crying bitter tears. Her parents, she learnt were fine, but she never wanted to see them again. Her magical abilities were a curse, she told herself, brooding in the dark, a tortured soul she was, with such an amazing gift. In the woods, she made herself a home, only ever using magic when it was to protect herself. A small cottage grew from the earth, vines curled around its rickety gate, flowers grew along the cobbled path and inside, there wasn’t much, a living room and dining room. A small bathroom and bedroom, but it was her home. She made it comfy, homey and warm, she grew herbs and made money by tending to lost wanderers.

Soon, animals began approaching her and she became known as the woman in the woods, tending to sick animals and humans. Her talents spread throughout the land and reached her old town. By this time, she had managed to skilfully control her magic and no longer saw it as a curse. She became known as the white witch, a healer, a protector. A guardian.

She never saw her parents again. When she was little, she had wished for her parents’ love, attention and care. Instead, she’d been blessed with magic. There was no spell to create true love. Nothing to make her parents see her differently. She was their wayward daughter, who had gone insane and they refused to acknowledge her talents. But to her new friends and others like her, she was their friend, a part of their magical community, leader of their coven.

And that was all she needed. No magic spell could bring her family and friends.

Only love could and she found it in her own strangeness and others like her.

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