Once the witch was placed next to the window nailed shut, he would enter the room and ask her to relief the world from her voice too sweet.
„But I haven‘t even said anything“, she would whisper.
„So you will never know the blessing of silence“, he would respond.
Once her hands were in chains and bound behind her back, he would sit next to her and ask her to stop bleeding.
„But you cut through my skin“, she reminded him.
„And you are unable to heal“, he stated.
Once she was resting on hay and on mold, he would look right into those infectious witching eyes and ask her to confess.
„But I haven‘t done a thing“, she would say.
„Not one single thing?“
„Not one thing.“
„So you will never know the joy of forgiveness“, he judged.
Unloved tale
OnceWhen someone had herShe was almost lovedBut then this someone thought:”I can’t be allShe’d ever known”And he let her go. And She ranShe ran too fastWhen she ranShe ran too far ThenShe was found againBy another strange manWho loved her recklesslyLove turned to painAnd carved his sinInto her skin And she fledShe fled too fastWhen…
Just a haunted girl scaring her friends – Writing update!
Intrigued. And quite as bit terrified.Those were the exact same words I got as feedback from my friends whom I’d recently handed the first pages of the witching novel to. Seems like I’ve accomplished my task, right? I’m the haunted girl scaring all her friends!No, but really. It felt as if I was understood through…
Tale about the softest secret
This tale is about a girl I once knew. This girl could not go anywhere without her lovely white shoes. Made of cotton, their rim did not reach her ankles, giving away how thin they were. Their soles were so slim, she felt the earth with every step. Those shoes she needed so dearly were…
Mistress witch writes 