A bunch of short stories

Witching hour 2

The next month passed with mother in the hospital, something about a fractured hip; apparently, she wasn't as tough as I thought she was.

The day she gave back, all tired-looking and vengeful, she had a long talk with father. She did most of the talking.

It was sometime in the night, possibly around nine, when they thought I'd probably be sleeping.

Actually, I really was sleeping, but the voices woke me up.

"Listen, listen." They kept saying and I did. I listened, and heard their muffled conversation from the floor below.

I rolled off my bed and crept towards the wooden steps leading to the parlour a floor below.

The steps creaked noisily so I had to take them one at a time. And slowly. I have no idea why I was being sneaky, their conversation was about me and I should have been there. It was my life after all.

"She is bewitched, possessed by the devil!" I heard mother yell.

"She is our daughter." Father's voice spilled out slowly.

I heard the chair creak as mother got up roughly, "you always were weak!" She scorned, "I'll call the sisters and they will take her and purge her of all evil." She said almost desperately.

"Oh Lord, be my Shepherd." I heard her mutter as she walked away.

That was the day they(I mean mother) decided to send me to the home of the sisters; where I was presently planning on escaping from.

Let me tell you a bit about the home of the sisters as I've come to know them for exactly two weeks.

It had been a dreadfully wet day, the day I stepped out of the car and unto the home of the sisters.

The home of the sisters is not a home in the sense of the word, it's more or less a prison or a place to dump people who the society considered strange, possessed, or as in my case, bewitched.

The cold rain scattered over my head, making little tapping noises against my rain coat. I stood still, swallowed a bit hard from the rain pouring over my face and watching the tall imposing structure before me.

The brown brick building went up for three storeys. It had little square-shaped openings (they couldn't possibly be windows.), and a central door which looked like a big mouth. It was scary.

Mother joined me almost immediately, followed soon after father.

I stared at them, hoping they'd see the fear in my eyes. I don't think they did.

Although, I noticed for the first time what looked like apprehension in their faces.

I also couldn't hear the voices in my head; they were probably scared.

The Sisters had this belief: 'an idle mind is the devil's workshop.'

And they implemented this belief on all of us.

They made us work on farms for most part of the day, and then pray in the church for the remaining part.

I was sick of it. So, yes, this is the reason why I'm awake around midnight; I'm breaking out of this place, the voices want me to and I'm going to find answers.

I have no idea if I'm a witch, and I have no idea why I had these abilities.

I had no intention of waiting for the answers to come, I'll go to them.

The moon suddenly disappeared into the sky and the room became even darker.

I relaxed myself and trailed my hand over my cheek, wiping away the lone tear drop escaping from my eyes.

"I am not a witch...." I heard my voice saying, and doubting it with each note.

I took in a deep breath and then let the voices take over.

The bed creaked once more as I found myself getting up and walking towards the window.

I could feel it, and even see it but it wasn't me in control.

My legs kicked the metal bowl making it clank loudly, I wanted to stop and put it back again but I kept moving.

When I got to the wall, just by the tiny window, I suddenly stopped. The window was open and it was still raining hard, splatters of rain drops hitting the glass and splashing on me.

I felt the need to get out there, into the dark night. I didn't want it, but I felt it.

"Close your eyes." A voice calmly said to me, the friendly voice. I did so, feeling the night air against my face.

A warm sensation passed through my body, from my toes to my head and my fingers, especially my fingers.

I felt myself being stretched like though. That's just how I can put it; I felt light and stretched and then my heart beat increased and I began sweating.

"Don't look down." A voice said to me.

An odd thing to say, I thought and then I opened my eyes.

It was when I opened my eyes that I realised the wet rain falling over me, and....the tiny trees below.

I screamed, shocked at seeing myself so high up in the air, and worse, moving.

I began to waver and fall, losing altitude quickly.

I screamed, but I didn't hear a voice. A shrill squawk escaped from my throat. I closed my eyes.

"Don't look down!" A sarcastic voice snapped.

I steadied myself and looked up, and then my gaze shifted to my hand.....or should I say wings.