Once was there an old dilapidated yet classic house inside a forest, a magical home of a young witch and a darling bunny. The young witch has been staring half an hour already at the wooden figurine with the appearance of a young man that she has been crafting since few days ago. She made him look athletic and tall with a cool hat on his head, just like how girls wish guys to be looking like.
For some reasons, Anne has been exhausted of her life, nothing ever made her wanna go outside and throw spells on the frogs that she used to do.
Her tears fell off her eyes, full of sorrow and regret. She thought maybe in life you either need to cease things, or let them cease you.
A rabbit, which she called Mrs. Hop, felt her downfall as she looked at the broken young witch.
'My dear lady ginger, come on now.' The rabbit spoke in a tender manner, empathizing the young witch. Still, Anne never had the mood to talk. The rabbit instead took a deep breath and gave Anne space.
Before the moon had risen three days ago in the forest, Anne was with her basket scavenging for woods for her carrot pie. She thought the wind was nice for a little walk in the woodland.
Out of her expectation, she heard a chuckle of a deer in distance. She searched for it, only to find out Philip, an amorous lad he met in a besom witch party, and who promised her to be the love of her life.
She was glad to see him, she wanted to call him but it didn't make her quite excited for a long time for what she had seen next rather enraged her.
A beautiful lady was holding Philip's waist sitting behind, they two looked undeniably joyful.
Anne felt something in her chest that cannot be contained. She hid herself underneath a spruce while holding her breath.
But nothing felt more wicked than seeing the mistress kissing the young man—now that made her wicked.
She let go of the basket and the grasses that it landed on, from ever-green, drastically turned wilted. The wind started to whip in its maddest rage. She was doomed, she never thought this would ever happen to her. Her heart seemed to surrender—anger and mistrust all she ever felt.
She came out of the tree and the young man saw her right after. He was surprised and started feeling horrendous. He took off the deer, and came close to Anne.
'My lady, this isn't what it is.' He said with a shaking voice—already terrified.
The mistress ran away with fear, but never reached ten meters as a sharpened wood impaled her back, killing her in instance—wilting like a fallen leaf.
For witnessing the horrific scene, Philip trembled down on his knees begging the witch to let him go. 'Please. I never wanted this to happen.' But the witch didn't say anything until she came onto him, held his neck and spoke, 'You've had me enough. I had loved you the most, yet all you wanted is to tear me. No woman will ever languish because you, for I am the last one, and the last woman you'll ever see.' She let go her hand as his body started to petrify—into a wooden statue.
The witch departed with unrelenting anger leaving the young man vividly wooden, silent in the woods... forever.
'Stop that crying now, lady ginger.' The rabbit interrupted her stare at the figurine. The witch only smiled at her as her response.
'I know you feel bad right now. But should you really feel that way?' The rabbit came closer to her and put her right paw on the witch's hand. 'Remember you are not alone. I am still here. And forget about that imbecile man. He didn't deserve you.'
Anne sighed deeply. 'Thank you, Mrs. Hop. I can't imagine my day without you.'
'Well, I never left your side since you were born 76 years ago. And I would always stay by you.' Replied by the rabbit that warmed the feeling of Anne. She thought, it's true that true love has always been there, and that's the love given to her by her bosom friend. She couldn't ask for more.
Unfortunately, she and her rabbit knew that one prime condition for witchery says that no witch shall kill a human or her kind. If one ever did, she too shall vanish exactly on the seventh day.
So by what Anne did to Philip and to his mistress, her remaining days are already close to deadline. And they knew right when the pendulum hits 5:00 in the afternoon on Sunday, they should be gone.
'So stop that now. Let's bake a carrot pie if you would.' The rabbit's just trying to sooth her.
'I'd love that.' Indeed, her mood has gone good. 'And archery in the woodland, Mrs. Hop.' Truely excited was she.
But in a mere second there was a sound of stumbling branches coming from outside that caught their attention.
The rabbit went on and checked who it was, only to find out a young man searching for something under an apple tree.
'A tall guy with a beret.' She told the witch.
YOU ARE READING
Seven Days of a WitchFantasy
A young witch, Anne, is left with seven days before she turns into dusts after killing her supposed-to-be other half. What could love and longing possibly make the most out of seven days?