Feel me as a witch

Sometimes, I close my eyes to see my witch.

I see a lonely and troubled Lady alone in the kitchen of a house that had not always been this empty.
I see her hair, which is curlier and more red than mine. I see her pacing up and down, while casting views out of the window. I see her waiting and hoping and breaking apart.

I needed to see my witch when I could not feel myself anymore, because everything that had ever mattered to me had gone and all that I had been and could feel myself as was just reaching into nothingness, not even causing an echo in this strange new world.

I needed to see my witch to learn to live a life without joy, at least for now.
There was no voice left to speak with, and all the words I knew were not true anymore.

Being a witch was no fun for her at all.
It meant to lose what made her human, to stop being a friend, a daughter, a wife.
It meant against all odds surviving Dystopia and finding a dark kind of love, which of course also was not lasting forever.

I want to write my witching novel to explore surviving from moment to moment, and catching yourself between those sweet and sparkling ones, and those that break you apart.

Layla and I are having raspberry cupcakes tonight.
„You know what would make writing this witching novel easier?“, my witch suggested. „Drafting a second chapter.“