The Witch's House.

My old stairs creak. The banisters don’t have the same shine they used to, my varnish is wearing away. My windows are my eyes to the world; I can see her back yard surrounding me. The ground is covered mostly with cold, dead dirt. There are patches of green grass which taper to a point underneath the only life in her garden. A modest patch filled with her herbs and flowers, sage to cleanse the spirits, white lilies for protection and saffron for prosperity.

I can hear her waking up, she groans as her feet hit my cool wooden floors. She will want me to warm the place soon. I watch her every morning as she slings her black silk robe over her night dress and sits at her vanity table brushing her raven hair.

I’ve known her for a very long time. We were children together, we were friends, and we were lovers. She was always my protector and now I am hers. Her face is radiant this morning, she looks as young and beautiful as ever. I watch her climb down the stairs, I try not to creak too loudly for her.

She commands me to light my open fireplace. I do. I see her reach for ground coffee and so I heat up the stove in anticipation. She doesn’t notice me doing this and so places her hand on the plate. She slams her fist onto my counter top in frustration. The shriek she lets out shakes my foundations and I feel the impact. The throbbing pain serves as a reminder to not surprise her again.

She curses under her breath and commands me to turn on the cold tap. I do. Then I watch as she uses her gift to remove the scar from her palm.

‘Tactus Aliquam.’ She whispers, massaging the muscles in her hand. Seconds later, she stretches her fingers out and the burn has completely disappeared.

 I want to say sorry. I want to reach out and give her physical comfort so she may know the love I bare for her. But this shell that she trapped me in, so many years ago, denies me. I will never again hear her words of love nor feel her warm embrace. I will never know the body I once lived in again, as it lies beneath the earth in her garden.