The Dark Witch

P.O.V – Becky Sinclair

All was quiet. I could hear absolutely nothing. It had been this way for two straight weeks, ever since the incident. That’s what everyone called it, my ultimate act of insanity, that had even got some of the people who worked in the asylum to commit themselves.

Dry and wet tears stained my face. They had locked me in this wretched stone cell, they hadn’t even allowed me a single ray of light. But it wouldn't last for too much longer, I thought, Mrs. Lankins…

I internally scolded myself, remembering that I had decided that Mrs. Lankins had just been a figment of my imagination.

I let myself fall from my sitting position to hit the hard stony ground, sadness and anger filling me. Why couldn’t I have had a normal life? With loving parents, a brother or sister to fight with, a home where people didn’t run tests on you and ask, “how does that make you feel?”. I felt tears sting my eyes again, a place where I could be loved, truly loved.

“Then come home.” Hissed an all too familiar voice. I jerked up to see the monster of my dreams staring at me, another figment, “All you have to do is remember who you are,” it smirked, staring down at me with a warped since of affection in its red eyes, “then you’ll be able to break free. Do you want me to tell you how?”

My voice caught in my throat as I stared at it, bug eyed, and nodded. Its smile engulfed its snake-like face as it slithered closer to me.

The monster hissed, “Very good.” and it knelt slowly in front of me. I felt myself began to shake, as my nightmare whispered into my ear.