Witch Tale, Was It? | Teen Ink

Witch Tale, Was It?

April 8, 2016
By SnazzyWazzy BRONZE, Howell, Michigan
SnazzyWazzy BRONZE, Howell, Michigan
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

The townspeople surround my house as I turn the corner, I can feel the heat of what used to be my home. The fire is too powerful. I must get away, I think to myself. I pull my dark hood over my head as I sprint off into the night…

17 years ago, a child was born, this child was special. She had abilities unlike anyone else, her learning capacity was incredible, by the age of 3 she was already almost able to construct full sentences on her own. She took middle school classes at the age of 7 and high school classes at 10. By 12 she had already started college level courses and graduated college at 16. A few months later, her house burned down, no one knew why or how. There were two confirmed casualties of the fire, a mother and father. Their daughter was nowhere to be found. The few friends she had set up posters to look for her, but that girl they knew was gone. She left to protect the ones she loved most, to keep them safe from herself.

I approach a poster with my picture and name on it, Terra Valencia. The word MISSING is printed in large block letters underneath the picture. I grab the poster and position it above my other hand. A blue flame forms above my palm. The flame  licks my fingers as though it wants to taste them, but it doesn't hurt, it never has. The fire soon finds the paper and tastes it, it then goes on to consume the paper in its blue flame. Terra is no more, my past self is gone, burned up in the fires that cloud my mind.

I learned my neat little trick when I was 5, the first time the blue flame spoke with me. I ignored it for years, until I couldn't control it any longer and gave in to the fire. I look nothing like I once had: my skin was ashen; my black hair streaked with a faint bluish tint; my cheekbones jutting out of the sides of my skinny face, I had little fat on my body at all in fact. It seems as though my body is deteriorating into bones, like the fire is consuming my entire being. But that's not true. I know the risks, and the pos-

I hear a rustling in the bushes. I spin around, i raise my arm in front of me, my fire already dancing above my palm. I see a boy a few years older than I am staring back at me, wide-eyed. He puts his hands up defensively.

"Woah, easy there tiger. I'm not here to hurt you." His voice seems soft, albeit a little sarcastic. I lower my hand and the fire that was above my palm goes out. I slowly walk towards him, cautiously. He puts his hands down and fixes them to his side as I edge towards him. He seems… friendly enough. He quickly sticks his hand out in front of him, I flinch a little, thinking he's going to hit me. Then I realize he wants me to shake it. It's been so long since I've shaken anyone's hand. I grab his hand with mine and shake. He smiles at me like I'm an old friend, then my eyes are the ones that go wide-eyed.

"T-Tony?" Tony. My best friend from college. I haven't seen him since a few days before the house fire at my parents house… He had no idea what I'd done since then, I never contacted any of my old friends. I could feel my eyes beginning to water. I turned away from him and began to walk off, but he grabbed my shoulder to stop me.

"Terra, wait. What are you doing here?"

"Tony… Get away from me." My vision was tinting my surroundings a light blue color, the color of my flames. "I don't want you to get hurt too…"

"What are you talking about Terra? Why would you hurt me?" I can't see his face, but I know he's trying his best to smile, I can hear it in his voice. My body turns toward him, but I'm not controlling it.

Blue. My vision is all in shades of blue, just like the house fire…

"Tony…" I hear my voice, but I can't control it, I'm being used as a puppet. I hear another voice as well, saying exactly what I say as I speak it. It's the flames. They're using me as their puppet again. "I'm sorry Tony, but you can't stay here. Goodbye." The flames raise my hand and the fire appears by my palm. Black.
 


The author's comments:

This was a peice that I wrote for my Creative Writing class, I'm quite proud of how it turned out really. 


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