Standing on that high edge, she faced herself with fear, anger and regret. She thought she has forgotten the bitter taste and chills, and fell blindly into another trap. ‘..the last one’
The wind was playing with her black hair and warm tears were sliding down her pale, cold face. She wore a wedding dress and held a bouquet in her arms, staring helplessly at what one was her love. The veil mixed, contrasting, with her raven coloured tresses, until she threw it along with the bouquet and climbed down. So many voices mixed in her mind, whispering obscure instructions that would ensure her way to revenge. But it wasn’t that main idea that clogged her mind. Maybe immortality. Or a curse.
Her ancestors were long known for their witch crafting habits, but she was taught to fear them from a young age. But what’s left to fear when you already felt the worst type of pain? She looked at the amulet around her neck, being a little puzzled. It had strange carvings and a black stone in it’s center. Its powers were unknown, but its energy could be felt at any time.
She walked for days, gathering books, dust and candles for what was going to be her first(and last) spell. Reaching her destination, she could see the large landscape and stone, round figures all around a larger one, like a table. The table of silence, as it was called by many.
Waiting for nightfall, she prepared herself and what she needed, and, at midnight, she summoned the demons of darkness, betrayal and hate and tried to make them obey. But she had forgotten that demons sense a hurt heart and could easily control you. Fighting against what she had created, she forgot about the other enchantments and vows spoken, and, within moments, she become, as a whole, a stone statue. All except her amulet.
‘My memories lie carved
With words that formed in time
In the milestones of my life’
