135. “I want to tell you a story," the woman,who came in to torture me after every hour started.
I wasn't talking to her and in fact, she hadn't tortured me physically like she liked to do mentally.
She was as ugly as they get and nothing about her was admirable.
When people who have never seen witches think about them, she was what they saw.
Short, sunburnt, a long robe that looked as if it could do better on another person and calloused hands that looked as if they didn't know what better days were.
This one wasn't the one who brought me in. No.
I think they brought this one because they knew she would be a sore sight and she would make me do what they want.
“No please," I began, “instead of telling me your story, why don't you tell me why you have me here. Maybe I would be able t
