Creative Writing: The Witch Trails

“Oh don’t pay her any heed! She’s been acting queer all day, ever since those hags fed her those wretched berries!”
“Oh, I do hope we will be rescued!” Gwevella resumed, “and oh it would be a delight to get out of this white dress! Oh look, it’s raining outside! But wait—what if my prince doesn’t love me anymore? And what if, what if, what if—!” and soon she was back to crying profusely again. Gemma bit her lip, she looked as though she wanted to help, but didn’t know how to respond.
“Hey Gemma,” I said, unfolding my arms and moving forward. “What were you saying about a plan of escape?”
“Oh, well, you see that stack of hay,” Gemma said when suddenly the golden-haired girl interrupted, proclaiming, “You know, it was beautiful the way we …show more content…
I should probably go to the backroom, I thought. The two witches had been gone for a while now. It was only a matter of time before they would return.
Dutifully, I made my way to the dark wooden door that I had seen the witches exit through. Without so much of a flinch, I passed right on through, and at once, I found himself stepping into a long, shadowy hallway. A pantry, I was sure. Down at the far end, I saw the two witches. They were hissing, trading secrets with one another.
“No! You don’t understand!” squawked the smaller, knotted-haired witch. “We are in terrible danger!”
I crept toward them quickly.
“You fool! Keep your tongue still, Neveeah!” scolded the elder witch in a harsh whisper. “There are ears everywhere, who knows who might be trying to hear!”
“I’m the fool? You’re the fool for not realizing sooner,” argued the witch called Neveeah, in a squeaky voice poking the elder witch’s chest.
“Don’t touch me, rat liver!” spat the elder witch, slapping her hand away and grabbing her by the collar. “Now tell me again what you saw,” she ordered.
The knotted-haired witch, Neveeah, silently glared, then obediently

Show More

Related Documents: Creative Writing: The Witch Trails

Creative Writing: The Witch Trails