I was cleaning out my Wicked stories folder and I found this little drabble and I liked it, so I decided to upload it... I might change the title if I think of a better one. :)
I sit, staring at the blurred images in my crystal ball, watching the group of travelers make stalk towards my hideout. I know they're coming - I can run, I can get away, but I don't want to. I want something from them - besides, they're coming to kill me, are they not? I may as well die and get it over with - what do I have to live for? My best friend hates me, my sister is dead, my lover is dead, my father is dead…I'm a walking, talking, disaster.
I focus on the child's feet. As she ambles towards the west, accompanied by her silly companions, her ruby shoes glint in the sunset. What am I after, anyway? I wonder. Those shoes? Nessa's dead - I know it will make no difference, but I wanted something to remember her by, and those shoes were all that was left… I need them.
Am I finally giving into my reputation? I sigh, never removing my eyes from the moving figures. Maybe I am… maybe it's for the best. No one will ever stand up to me or prove the lies wrong, so I may as well just make those lies truth.
The truth is only what everyone agrees on, anyway.
I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose, inhaling deeply. Something in the back of my mind tells me that I truly must be a witch, if I'm blaming a twelve-year old girl for the death of my sister.
I tell it to shut up, and go back to watching the travelers as they continue their trek towards my castle.
Click me... click me!