I found this creative short I wrote many moons ago when blogging was an actual thing people did and would participate in different writing/story challenges. I’m amused.
Smell the Witch (circa 2014)
She woke in darkness. Underneath her was not the bed she had known, but a cold cement floor. The kind of cold you’d feel and wonder if it was wet. She sat up, feeling disoriented and scared. Her hair tumbled down to her elbows in a curly mess. She wiped away her bangs from her face and wondered where she was. A dim light flickered on just then, almost as if trying to show her an answer. One she couldn’t interpret well. She blinked to let her eyes adjust to the light.
The walls around her were of old cobblestone brick and the floor was indeed cement. It was so cold she hugged her knees to her chest. She wanted to scream, but was in fear that it wouldn’t be help that arrived, if anyone did come to her. There was a large door across the room from her, but through the wooden cracks she saw no light. The silence was deafening and she felt as if her eardrums needed to pop. Again she wondered where she was.
Abruptly she heard a noise, but it was so quick she couldn’t detect what it was or where it came from. Fat tears began to well up in her eyes and start to run down her cheeks. As she was crying into her knees, she heard footsteps coming closer and closer. Her body tensed with trepidation of what was to come through that door. She lengthened her legs out in front of her and laid down to pretend to sleep.
The door slowly opened and with it came a noxious fume.
“Molly, dear, wake up. It’s time for your Witch’s initiation!”
Molly sat up with a stir, “But I don’t want to be a witch! Witches stink!”
“So you say, my dear, so you say.”
End.
Tell me how you really feel: