Who Are We, Really?
@chillingmadamsatan
It had not happened the way she had always imagined. Since the time she was a child, she dreamed of how it would happen, of that night, of signing her name, but she had royally fucked it all up. That night, the night of her dark baptism, she ran. Ran like a scared little girl from the fate she had always known was awaiting her. And because of this? It happened without them there. Sabrina had always dreamed that her aunts would be there, right there by her side, the night she signed her name away. But no. There was no coven, no aunts, not Aunt Zelda. Instead it was Ms. Wardwell. It was the other woman who had been asked to watch over her. Her father's back up plan.
She had been the one to coax Sabrina into signing, who had shown her the importance of that raw, unadulterated power, that came with signing. She was the one to fullfill Sabrina's destiny.
So, it wasn't all that surprising to her, when that was where she found herself. The same place she had sought help numerous times before. Ms. Wardwell's front door. This place was familiar to her now. She had been here many times, sought council, guidance, honesty. She had found comfort with the woman, her teacher, in some of the most trying times that she had recently experienced. Who better to seek out council from now? Now that she had embraced it, cut her mortal ties and endulged herself in a life of sin. In the Church of Night.
As a gentle hand hit the door three solid times, Sabrina debated what she would say to the woman when she came face to face with her. After all, this would be the first time since that fateful night.