A young girl's small town is being terrorized by a forest witch, but is she really as bad as they say?
Secret Diary
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Entry One
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā My name is Alouette Dupont, and my lifeās goal is to pet a deer.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā I have seen them, near the edge of the forest. They look so soft and gentle, such majestic beasts.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā There is a horrible witch in the forest, I have been forbidden from ever entering, but I know how to be careful. I just have to be quiet and sneak, which I would be doing anyway as I look for the deer. And Maman has always told me that I am very fast at running, so the witch would never catch me.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā I shall take one of Mamanās biscuits, surely the deer will love them, and while it is eating I will be able to pat its nose.
Entry Two
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā I have seen her! She was so close Killian would have been able to hit her with his slingshot. I had finally found a deer after possibly hours of searching, and was so absorbed in trying to entice it with the biscuit I did not notice her until I realized the creature had become fixated on something behind me.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā I would not have seen her at all, but for her head! Her cloak seemed to disappear into the foliage around her, and she stood stone still as she watched us.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā I was frozen in place at the sight of her, my heart races just thinking about it. I have heard many stories of the horrible, scary, dangerous, violent witch in the forest that will attack you the moment she sees you, and though my mind was yelling for me to run, my feet would not move.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā But, she did not approach.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā And, though I was afraid, she did not seem to appear threatening at all. Simply a lady, standing amongst the trees.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā In fact, thinking back now, she almost looked sad. Perhaps even witches have things that bother them? I would like to count myself lucky that she was having a bad day, but it seems cruel to wish misery on someone else, even if they are a witch.
Entry Three
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Papa has purchased himself a new pocketknife. Maman has scolded him and said there was nothing wrong with his old one, but Papa has never minded when Maman scolds him. He has put his old knife in his cupboard of things he never looks at again, and I have had an idea. The deer had not seemed too interested in Mamanās biscuits, perhaps it may not understand what they are, but surely it would recognize an apple! I had thought of bringing an apple before, but they turn brown so quickly, if I got Maman to cut one for me it would be ruined before I ever happened upon any deer.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā But if I take Papaās old pocketknife, I can just cut the pieces myself when I am ready! I have never used one before, Papa says knives are too dangerous for young girls, but it cannot be that hard. I am not a child.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Oh, I am so clever! The deer will surely not be able to resist the fruit, and I will be scratching its ears in no time! I can almost feel the silky softness.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Entry Four
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā I met the witch today.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā I was careless with Papaās knife and cut my hand, and dropped the apple. It was covered in blood and dirt, and was ruined. I had nothing to give the sweet young deer I had found, and my hand was hurting very badly. I will never admit it out loud, but Maman says a diary is for recording your honest feelings, so I will record here that I did cry very much.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā The deer, sweet, gentle thing, stayed with me while I cried, though I had nothing to offer him, licking my hand and nudging his head against mine. Such compassion I did not think I would witness, Mr. Fosse next door says animals only care about themselves, but now I know better.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Then the witch arrived.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā My deer friend noticed her first, and I turned where he looked, and there she was, close enough to see clearly the mottled deep greens of her magnificently soft-looking cloak, as well as the shimmering golden symbols embroidered along the inside hems.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā I was frozen in place, I had been lucky the last time she saw me, but here she was right in front of me, approaching slowly, as if toward a frightened animal. I thought she must be trying not to scare the young deer, and my fear of her lessened slightly.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā She knelt in front of me, and held out her hand, the way Maman does when she wants me to show her where I am hurt. I hesitated, as I was still very frightened, but her manner reminded me of Maman so much that I obliged.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā She produced a beautiful pouch from under her cloak, adorned with similar unfamiliar symbols, and filled with the most magical things! A droplet-shaped bottle, that looked to be made of the very water it carried, and poured forth an endless stream of fresh water for as long as she held it over my bloodied hand. Once my hand was cleaned she took a small pot of a strange green paste which she coated my cut with, and the pain relief was instant! It was almost as if I had never been injured at all! Finally she brought out a large and sweet-smelling leaf, and placed it over the paste, and it stuck there so well I could move my hand freely without it peeling in the slightest.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā She then took out a strange fruit that I had never seen before, but that the deer seemed very interested in. With a beautifully ornate knife, she showed me how to properly hold it to cut pieces without endangering myself, and we took turns eating pieces and feeding the deer. It was the most wonderfully delicious thing I have ever tasted! I have to wonder where in the world she got it from.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā What a strange experience it was, being tended to and sharing sweet fruit with who was supposed to be a dangerous enemy. And throughout the whole exchange she never uttered a word. It was only when she made to leave, and I thanked her profusely and formally introduced myself, that she spoke. It was low, and quiet, like the forest trees rustling in the wind, but it was not to introduce herself in turn. Instead, she told me, āYou should not be so carefree as to give out your name to strangers, child, you never know what they can do with itā, then she left.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā It was so ominous a statement that I was brought to the reality of just who I had been spending the afternoon with. It suddenly gave me chills to know I had been so close to the witch, but she had been so kind to me during the encounter that I do not know now what to think of her.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Entry Five
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā I am even more confused.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā When I was called down to dinner, Maman told me to get rid of the leaf and wash up, but I told her that the leaf was my bandage and very much needed to stay. She thought that I was playing pretend! When she learned that I really was injured, and that I was certainly not playing make-believe, I had to explain what the green paste was and where I had gotten it. I do not know what the paste is made of, but was happy to tell her and Papa that I had gotten it and the leaf from the witch, and told them of the endless water from the bottle, and how very kind the witch was to me, in contrast of what I had expected. She is seemingly not as bad as people say, I said to them.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā They were furious. At me, of course, for going into the forest once again when I do know that I am not allowed. But also at the witch. They say that being kind was a clever ruse to take advantage of me because I am just a child, and only a child would believe a witch to be truly kind and not manipulative. They think the paste must be some kind of poison, and made me wash it off immediately.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā I will admit, I was very frightened at the possibility that the witch may have been faking her kindness in order to hurt me. But now I am sitting here with a regular rough cotton bandage, and the edges itch, and it is so stiff that I cannot move my hand, and if I try the corners start to peel off, and my hand is throbbing with pain. Could the paste really have been a poison? How could something that made me feel so much better possibly be a bad thing? And if the witch was taking advantage of my trusting nature, surely she would not have given me the warning about names? Although I am not sure I understand what she meant, she did seem very sincere.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā All the stories I have heard about the witch tell of her attacking on sight, and malicious and violent behaviour, but, why would such a dangerous person help a crying and defenseless young girl feed a deer in the forest? Surely if she were so very dangerous she would have just killed me there? I cannot be the only one to have experienced this. Tomorrow I will go out and ask around to see if anyone else has encountered the witch without being attacked.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā I have also accomplished my lifeās goal. I suppose I shall have to find a new one.
Entry Six
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā I have asked Mr. Fosse next door to recount for me his experience of running into the witch from several months ago. He says he was attacked out of nowhere, blindsided while setting his snares. He says there was first a horribly loud noise, and when he looked up, there was coloured fire dancing in the air all around him, sparking and sputtering. He says he was completely surrounded and it was closing in, and then, just before it would have touched his skin, he says it dispersed, and, a short distance away, there was the witch, tall and hunched and ugly, and she flung out her hands and sent more fire dancing toward him, and he fled. As he spoke, he became more and more animated, and was shouting by the end of it, throwing his arms about wildly.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā His story did frighten me while I listened, but one thing about it was strange. The witch I saw was not abnormally tall, and her posture was perfectly fine. She also had a beautifully kind and youthful appearance.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Perhaps there is another witch? How lucky I am to not have seen her. I wonder if my witch knows her.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Entry Seven
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā I have heard another story, this one from Killian. He says he had gone into the forest on a dare, and was to bring back something to prove that he had found the witchās house. He says he found the fence she is said to have built herself, a horrible thing, very tall, crooked and full of gaps, and painted with strange symbols, and slipped inside it. He says while he was looking for something to grab, he heard a shout, and when he turned to look, there was the witch, old and fat, with wild-looking gray hair sticking straight out from her head, and there was a dark mass spreading across the ground from her toward him. He says as the darkness got closer he realized that it was thousands of spiders, and he says he ran as fast as he could, and tripped, and scraped his knees very badly. His friends said that he gets very frightened now every time he sees another spider.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā What a horrible experience! My skin itches all over just imagining it. But the witch he says he saw? Old and fat? My witch was slender, and with long and straight dark hair. Could there be a third witch?
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā What is going on in that forest? How many witches could there be? I am only getting more questions.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Entry Eight
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā I have been to Mrs. Beaufortās bakery on an errand for Maman. Mrs. Beaufort is a lovely woman. She is round and sweet, just like her cakes. She gave me a small cake with extra icing, and asked about the bandage on my hand. I told her of my encounter with the witch, and of how kindly she behaved, and that I was trying to learn more but every story I heard contradicted everything I had witnessed. I asked her if she thought there could be more than one witch in the forest.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā She assured me that there is only one witch, and that she is very dangerous, but, after a promise not to tell her husband that she had been in the forest, confided in me that she had seen the witch herself, while out looking for mushrooms at the height of their season. She says that she had asked and asked Mr. Beaufort to go, but although he always insisted he would get around to it he never did, and that she had finally taken matters into her own hands, ālike most thingsā. She was busy picking mushrooms, only the finest ones she says, leaving the smaller ones to continue growing, āso there will always be more when you go to lookā, when she suddenly had the feeling of being watched. She says she pretended to continue fussing over the mushroom patch, and then stood, and stretched, as if fussing over a weary back, while actually she was looking all around with just her eyes, making each turn of the head look slow and natural, and eventually did spot the witch a little ways away, watching her.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā She says she was very frightened, but that in the face of danger, keeping your composure is very important. āIf you have only got a short time to react, it is better to plan than to panic.ā She says she decided that if the witch wanted to attack her then of course she would have done so already, and wondered if perhaps she was after the mushroom patch. She says it really was a very magnificent patch, and witches do need things like mushrooms. She had filled two baskets full, and, in an effort to appease the witch, set the larger of the two on the ground in the witchās direction, and, very deliberately, turned and left without looking back.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā On her way home she says she recognized a tree trap of her husbandās laying on the ground, and stopped to reset it, but while fiddling with it heard a rustling noise, and then saw vines snaking their way down the tree toward her hands. She did not stop to look for the witch this time, just dropped the trap and ran for home. She says she figures she is lucky to have made it back alive and has not dared enter the forest since, but was absolutely heated at having to weave a replacement basket.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā I asked her what the witch she saw looked like, and she says that she seemed youthful and with dark hair, but couldnāt make out much due to her mottled green cloak.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Mrs. Beaufort is adamant that there is only one witch, and that it is within a witchās capabilities to change her appearance to be able to appear more frightening or more inviting, depending on her goals, or her victim. She believes the witch made herself appear motherly so that I would trust her, and she would be able to gain access to the wound on my hand. She says whatever that green paste was, it was now in my blood, and who knows what it could cause.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā I told her of my theory that since it made my hand stop hurting, and that when I had washed it off it did hurt quite a bit, that the paste was probably good.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā I have learned many things from Mrs. Beaufort today, but I am left still with more questions.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā So there is indeed only one witch. And she is dangerous and attacks people. But she has the ability to change her appearance so as to seem approachable and trustworthy, in order to trick children. But then why did she not appear that way to Killian? And then why did she appear that way to Mrs. Beaufort? I shall have to continue gathering stories, there must be a piece I am missing.
Entry Nine
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā I have been asking anyone who will listen to me what they know about the witch. They say she can control the animals, and even the forest itself. I have been told stories of people nearly unable to find their way out of the forest, trees unfamiliar, roots and vines tripping their feet. I have also heard that, though the forest is teeming with life, trappers will rarely catch anything, their snares often found broken. Only people with dogs, or Mr. Fosse with his gun, can manage to hunt anything, when they have the sort of courage to stay in the forest for hours of searching. Many also admit to me that they turn and run when something startles them, not bothering to investigate and risk meeting the witch face to face, or face to dancing fire.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Nearly everything I hear paints the witch as a violent menace, though there are a scattering of stories like mine and Mrs. Beaufortās. She does not always attack, so perhaps it has something to do with the actions of her victims? But whether they may be picking mushrooms or setting snares I cannot see a difference. Surely there must be some pattern.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Entry Ten
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā I have been confined to my room, unjustly. People in town think me possessed. They say I ask too many questions about the witch, they say the green paste on my hand had had blood contact and must be poisoning my mind. Maman assures me that I should simply stay inside a few days to allow the others to calm down, and that her and Papa believe me to be sane, but her eyes shift and her hands fidget when she says so.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā I am frustrated. My mind is perfectly fine. The witch may be dangerous at times but I have seen that she is capable of compassion. Perhaps if we could simply talk things out everything would be fine. In fact I am sure of it. But when I try to bring it up Papa shushes me quite harshly. There must be something I can do to get someone to listen to me without thinking I am being puppeteered by the witch.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Entry Eleven
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā I am barely able to write. My hands are tied to my bedpost now. There was a great commotion this morning, with everyone shouting in the main street. Curious of course, I did slip out of the house to go look, even though I was strictly forbidden to leave my room. Perhaps I should not have gone.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā There was a great pile of broken traps and snares in the middle of the road, with a single terribly bloodied one laying separate in the front, and, this is where I may lose some of my conviction in my opinion of the witch, symbols, just like the kind embroidered on the witchās beautiful cloak, had been burnt into the ground. No one knows what they mean, but everyone seems to agree the message does appear to be very threatening. I was looking very hard at the symbols, hoping to perhaps recognize one from the cloak, or the pouch with the wonderful things inside, but I was noticed.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā First whispers, then pointing, and then my parents were whisking me away amidst a mob of people shouting about me being controlled to escape from bondage and a locked room to come read the message the witch had left for me! I had had no bonds nor locks to escape from, simply being asked very firmly not to leave. And they believe that because of that paste I can somehow now read the witchās message!
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Maman says the people are very frightened, and that being tied up to my bed is for my own good now, for I had gone and made things worse by my own fault, but she did tie the knots very tightly. I heard them all downstairs, arguing, angrily insisting that something must be done, about the witch, and about the witched child. Mr. Lemaire managed to get them to agree to a meeting the next morning to discuss plans, though it did take some persuasion. No one respects Mr. Lemaire yet like they did his mother.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā I cannot shake the feeling that the witchās message has been misunderstood, though I do admit it did look very frightening. Even now I still believe that if everyone would sit and talk that we could all come to some kind of understanding. I suggested to Maman that the witch should be invited to the meeting in the morning, and she slapped my face, which she only does when I do something very wrong.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā I am tired of being ignored and mistrusted. The witch deserves to have her side heard. I still have Papaās pocketknife. Tonight while everyone is asleep I shall cut my ropes and sneak out of the house.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Entry Twelve
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā I have found the witchās house! Everything about it is so wonderous.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā I was very frightened walking through the forest alone in the dark with only the moon to guide me. It was so very quiet, except for the strange and ominous sounds I would hear. Once I heard a rustling behind me, and I did not stay to find out what it was. I ran as fast as I could, which was much faster than whatever may have been chasing me, and soon ran into a terrible fence. This was the witchās fence that I had heard about, no two boards the same size, nary a one standing straight, painted all over with symbols.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā I found a gap large enough for me to crawl through, and the yard inside was magnificently strange! Several small crop plots boasting odd-shaped sprouts, bushes with flowers that glowed in the moonlight, and a tree growing the sweet fruits that the witch had shared with myself and the young deer.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā There was no house in sight, but a great tree that stood in the center of the yard. I soon noticed it had windows! With soft candlelight filtering through sheer curtains. I knocked on a large wooden door, and almost immediately it flung open to reveal the witch. I will admit here that with her suddenly standing so close in front of me I froze, nearly forgetting what I had come for. Her angry face turned to surprise, then she glanced around and ushered me quickly inside, and shut and bolted the door with three heavy locks.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Inside was even more incredible, the walls of the tree carved into endless shelves covered in books and scrolls, and bottles and jars filled with every colour imaginable. The witch sat me down at a wooden table carved from the very floor, and fussed over my hand while I let my eyes wander over every mystical item. Soon I had the soothing green paste once again, and we settled into conversation over tea.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā The witch says that she has never hurt anyone with her spells, that they were all illusions meant to scare people out of the forest. She says the message was simply to stop leaving odd contraptions out as they were hurting the animals in terrible ways. She was horrified when I explained that that was the point. She says that hunting for food is one thing, but allowing an animal to get caught and horribly injured and trapped frightened and in pain for hours until someone checks their traps is just cruel. I had never considered it that way.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā I told her of the meeting in the morning and that she ought to attend to clear up the misunderstandings. She had no idea the people in town thought her so terrifyingly violent. It is very late at night now, so I am to stay here and we shall both go into town in the morning. Once everything is cleared up and the witch is seen as friendly, perhaps she could teach me some of her spells!
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Entry Thirteen
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā I can barely see this paper through my tears. I am locked back in my room now, and I will never see the witch again, for Mr. Fosse next door has shot her through the heart with his gun. I will try to recount the events of the last few hours here so that I may not forget the evil that fear is capable of.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā The witch and I arrived in town to find everyone out in the street, shouting at Mr. Lemaire that something absolutely must be done about the witch this instant, for the witched child had disappeared in the night. I announced our presence and explained that I was perfectly fine, and not bewitched, but there was much uproar and no one would listen. I explained that everything was simply a big misunderstanding, but, no one would listen. It was getting quite hostile. I saw my parents in the crowd and begged them to help, to tell the people to listen, but.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā They turned away.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā I called and called them.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā But they did not look back.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Mr. Fosse appeared at the front of the crowd with gun in hand, a great, ugly, metal thing. I remember it in slowed motion, he raised the gun, aimed at me, directly at me, and there was a bang that rattled my brain in my skull as a wonderous purple sheen appeared in the air, and I saw a bullet bounce off it and deflect somewhere up and behind me.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā I am still stunned by this action. I have known Mr. Fosse next door all my life, and never known him to raise so much as a hand against me. I can still see his cold eyes boring into mine.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā The next thing I remember is arriving back at the witchās house, having sprinted all the way there. She was trying to speak to me, but her voice was so far away.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Oh how I wish I could hear her voice again.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā The horrid mob eventually made their way to the house. I remember glass shattering, the windows broken to allow burning branches to be dropped inside. We soon had no choice but to exit the house to avoid being burned alive, though what awaited us outside may well have been worse.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā I remember clinging to her cloak. I was so very frightened. All the friendly faces I had been raised by twisted into hatred. They were throwing things, jabbing with things, shouting. Suddenly Mr. Fosse was at my side, pulling the witch around to face him. There was another skull rattling bang and the witch dropped to the ground, a hole now where her poor heart would have been. Everything was silent until I could hear myself screaming. I knelt over her, cradled her head the way Maman used to when I was hurt and crying. She whispered her name in my ear, and then she was gone.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Cvetka. Such a strange and mystical name. Just like everything else about her.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Then everyone went home. I was dragged back by my parents, kicking and screaming that you people cannot simply just leave her there on the ground. But no one would listen.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā I am devasted. I am angry. I will not let her be forgotten. I will make sure everyone in town knows the evils they have committed.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Entry Fourteen
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā I have spent all day today preaching and yelling in the street about how the witch never did anything wrong. I have been locked in my room again. I heard them downstairs, convincing my parents that I am now possessed by the witch, that my spirit is no longer my own, that I also ought to be executed. Barbarians. Papa came to my room and said the people are uneasy and that it may perhaps be best if I no longer lived in this town. Maman stood behind him and did not enter. Neither implied that they would be going with me.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Entry Fifteen
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā I am sitting on a cart riding just passed the second bend in the road outside of town. It is sparsely laden with cheap supplies and pulled by a young and very small horse whom I have named Echo. I was brought forcibly to the edge of town early this morning and presented with these parting gifts from my parents. They told me how the others wanted me dead, but they had argued that it would be cruel to execute a child, and simple exile should be sufficient. I was told should I ever return I would be killed. I did not respond. Whether I am dead or gone is no difference to them, so they shall be dead to me as well. I grabbed the too large reins and began to guide Echo gently down the road. Maman called after me to at least say goodbye.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā I did not look back.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā It is nearly a dayās walk to the next town, and it is well into the afternoon now. Once round the first bend in the road I tied Echo to a tree and made my way through the forest to what remained of the witchās house. She was still there, left on the ground. I removed her cloak and a mystical looking pendant that I had not noticed before, to remember her by, as well as the pouch of wonders she kept tied round her waist, and covered her body with leaves. I then salvaged what I could from her tree house. Some books that had survived the flames, some bottles and jars of strange items and powders, and a large chest full of mysterious things that took a very long time to drag back to the cart. I will find someone to teach me about them.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā I have renounced my ties to my family, to my town. I will not let the witchās memory die with me.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā My name is now Cvetka, and it is my lifeās goal to become a witch.
I used to get hate anons quite frequently but then I started getting super liberal with the block button and let me tell you less than a week later the amount of hate anons got down to like 1% of what they were, which is what originated my theory that there was like six people that made bullying me their full time hobby and I sleep very well at night knowing that to this day some of them are probably still trying to bully me to tears and I am just not getting their mail lol
Just for anyone still thinking the civil rights movement was āSO long ago!ā
Fred Hampton would be 51 this year if police hadnāt executed him at age 21.
Ruby Bridges is 65.
MLK would be 91 (he was assassinated at 39).
Malcom X would be 95 (he was assassinated at 39).
Claudette Colvin (the first Black woman known to refuse to give up her seat AT 15) is only 80.
Mary Louise Smith is 83.
Fred Gray is 89.
EMMETT TILL WOULD BE 79 (he was murdered at age 14 because of a white womanās lie).
Ask yourself how old your grandparents are. Hell, how old your PARENTS are. How old are the people in most government seats right now?
Miss me with that bullshit of āItāS sO lOnG aGo. Things are better now.ā These people and so many more who arenāt able to be here would be distraught at what is STILL fucking happening today. To say things like that is just willfully turning your head away from the injustices that we see today! Thatās the that on that.
āHow old are people in most government seats right now?ā <-!!!! THIS!! People donāt fully digest THIS! MANY many people in the most powerful positions in government WERE alive to hate MLK. They were building early political careers in opposition to the Civil Rights movement, actively oppressing Black people in lower positions of government, fighting to keep segregation alive, etc. And theyāre STILL doing it!
#oh you think youāre evil? you think youāre bad? my cells would beat the shit out of yoursĀ #phagocytosis is out. cells punching each other to death is in.
I feel like this is the adult test. Youāve been living on your own or with roomies for a few years now, you should have figured it out by now. How many of these things do you actually have
I will probably need this at some point in my life. Unfortunately that point is not now and I will probably have forgotten about it by the time I need itā¦
Romesh Ranganathan, narrating the re-enactment in his English accented voice: Carnarvonās half-brother, Mervyn HerbertāDEAD! Aubrey Herbert, his other half-brotherāDEAD! Thatās a whole brother! DEAD!!! Carterās secretary, Carterās secretary, he didnāt have nothinā to do with it, he just typed the lettersāDEAD! DEAD, mate! Murked! Can you believe that shit? Thereās a CURSE!!! DO YOU UNDERSTAND? A CURSE, MATE! YEAH? YOU DONāT GO FUCKINā AROUND WITH SOMEONEāS TOMB! [Romesh pauses before continuing in a calm and casual voice] Are you gettinā my socks in the shot ācause I donāt want you to.
Well that was in season one, right? Maybe the updated version of his outfit had white pants? It would make sense because Romanās whole thing of the light vs. dark/ good vs. evil was a lot more prominent in season two than it was In season one
Theyāre black because as we all know Remus and Roman share one pair of legs.
Seriously though black goes with everything and he wants to be prepared for an outfit change at a momentās notice. Thatās my opinion.
he wears a black shirt underneath his costume but itās not actually a shirt itās a jumpsuit thatās all black so he doesnāt have pants but theyāre black.
Perhaps itās the unsettling nature of some of the more popular dream posts, but I always pictured someone like Orson Welles in a dark study with a single desk lamp, cigar in hand and glass of scotch nearby and now knowing itās someone with an anime voice telling me about furry police encounters makes all of this far more surreal.
Overall Iāve found that people, most likely subconsciously, donāt think that incest can be traumatic. When I told my therapist that I was sexually abused she was so supportive. She told me that it wasnāt my fault. That what happened doesnāt define me. That I can always tell her about this stuff without fear of judgment or rejection. That whatever happened, my trauma is valid. Then I told her that it was from someone in my family, and her tone switched immediately. All of a sudden it couldnāt have actually been that bad. What I was describing most be an overexaggeration. āItās normal for families to show their love in different ways,ā she said. āThere most have been a miscommunication.ā She didnāt listen to me anymore. I told her the worst of what happened in graphic detail, but none of that mattered. We were related. Thereās no way that actually happened. And this is far from an isolated incident. I got blocked by one of my favorite cosplayers, one that was vocal about protecting minors and respecting triggers, for saying that incest survivors getting triggered by the twins, even if they are supposed to be satire or an act, is s valid reason to not watch ohshc. Both online and irl, people who vocally opposed to joking about sexual abuse would make incest jokes and even joke about my experiences explicitly. Thereās a widespread belief in our society that incest is funny or not a real issue. And most activists not only refuse to acknowledge that this is an issue, but get upset when you try to educate them on it. This belief keeps getting spread, and it actively keeps us from being believed, from getting treatment, from getting justice. This belief keeps us silent and lets our abusers go free.
If you arenāt an incest survivor you are legally obligated to reblog this
if you can, not only sign but also donate to his GoFundMe, run by his mother and cousin. Lakeith has been denied visitation from any family members for the two years heās been at the correctional facility. he has a daughter who was born after he was arrested that he has been never allowed to see. lets get him out of there.
https://gf.me/u/ykgw4w
Trying to raise at least $30,000 for lawyer to get guaranteed appeal release #BLMā¦ Lakeith Smith needs your support for #JusticeForLakeithSm
A few months ago I reblogged a post sharing Jazzyās gofundme, a girl who was poisoned by her roommate, noting that she only had about half her goal despite the fund being up for several years. I saw a lot of people reblog that version; Just a month or so later when I checked her fund again it had been reached!! And tons of people still reblog it.
I think when people are just scrolling and they come across these posts they donāt check immediately and forget about it, seeing all the notes and assuming the fund is doing well- I think more people need this visualized to realize this person REALLY needs help.
We canāt let Lakeith continue to be punished in this repulsive system. Please make sure him and his fund get the attention Jazzy does and letās do everything we can to get him to the goal!! We have to reunite him with his family by any means possible.
As of today ( Saturday, August 8th, 2020 ) Lakeith is $12,061 from his goal!!
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