Come now, listen to this sad story
Come, don't forget to prepare a handkerchief

He was mine first.

My best friend. The only one who listened to me when I complained about the foolishness of my fat, ugly superiors. The only one who cared about me. The one who I snuck out of the cathedral to see every other day. The one who cared about me, despite him being the prince of an entire kingdom and me being a simple Priestess.

My first love.

My only love. The only one who could make me blush by giving me a smile or even just a look in my general direction.

And then she came along.

It seems there was a witch in the land
And it seems she fell in love with a Prince

That thrice-be-damned witch! I watched as the wind blew off her bonnet and sent it straight into his hand. It blew her to him.

Let's forget about the magic that stops time
Now is a time of joy


I watched with my own eyes as she ensnared him with one smile. I could never be with him, due to my life as a priestess, but that didn't make watching him fall in love with someone else any easier. I could only stand by and watch as my best friend stopped listening to me - stopped talking to me altogether - in favour of joining that damned girl every day just to talk with her, to laugh with her, to love her in a way that he would never love me. I could only watch my only love fall in love with someone else - someone who wasn't me. Someone who I could only wish to be. She was everything I wasn't. She was outgoing, I preferred to keep to myself most of the time. She was cheerful, I was rather stoic. She was beautiful, I was, at best, average looking. The only thing I had her beat at was knowing him - I knew everything about him, and he knew everything about me; that's what being best friends means - but it didn't seem to matter in this case. He fell for her in the timespan of less than a week, while I had known him his entire life and he never smiled at me the way he smiled at her.

I hate her.
I hate her.
I wish she was dead.
She stole him from me.
It's her fault.

Come, take a look at the burning sky
Come, don't forget the flames of justice

My rage and hatred boiled and festered until it spilled over.

I'll make sure she dies.

It seems there was a witch in the land
And it seems she deceived the prince

I did not feel any remorse as I shoved a picture of her into his face and told him that she was a witch who had put him under a spell. The first time we had spoken in weeks - when we used to never go a single day without even a simple "hello" in the streets! - and it was abouther.

To those who were captured by her alluring magic
Your times of joy are over


He was the one who believed me. There was no coercion on my side. He believed me. It's not my fault! He should have known better!

It's not my fault.

I felt satisfaction when he cut her hair and ordered her to be tied to the stake.

I felt no satisfaction when I saw the looks on their faces - the tear that slid down his cheek as her hair was clutched in one of his fists; the look of shock and pure hurt that appeared on her face as her shortened hair fell around her jawline - as she was dragged to the stake.

They were clearly in love.

He was mine first.

She took him from me.

He was mine FIRST!

I ordered for the stake to be lit.

A demon cries out, tied to a cross

I watched her face screw up with pain as the flames licked at her feet. He stiffened next to me as her cries began. I merely kept chanting, trying not to wince as she screamed as the fire began to engulf her. It was true, I hated her with the very depths of my being - but my nature was not malicious. I never enjoyed inflicting pain on anybody.

Repent! Repent!

She screamed at us through her cries of pain, sobbed, yelled, wailed - and then, as the sun began to go down, her head dropped forward, tears on her cheeks dropping from her face. I thought she was dead.

If you call this love black magic
Now everything is

But then she threw her head back and gave a scream of pure anguish that rattled me to the very depths of my being.

Then light the flames of hatred
She's lost her way

Only those who were there would believe that the ropes binding her to the stake fell away as if by magic, and black feathery wings sprouted from her back. She gave them one flap, sending feathers and cinders everywhere, and the force of the wind was enough for me to have to cover my face to keep myself from being hit by the flying cinders. When I lowered my arms, she was gone, leaving only him, holding a single black feather in the palm of his outstretched hand. His expression was one of complete shock - and loss.

Like this red, burning flame
Repent! Repent!

He blamed me. He blamed me for tricking him into believing my nonsense about her being a witch. When I never did any tricking or persuading.

I lost my best friend that day. And as he stormed away, still clutching the black feather in his hand, I collapsed to my knees.

And I wept.

Don't forget the reason for your bitter tears
Death is weighing upon us!

Ehehehe- this is something I thought of a long time ago and am just writing down now... like everything else I write seems to be.

Basically, I was watching "Witch Hunt" one day - or listening to it, I forget, but whatevs - and I just thought, What if there's more to the nun/priestess lady than people seem to think? -gasp- What if she's jealous for more than one reason? - GASP- WHAT IF SHE WAS CHILDHOOD BEST FRIENDS WITH THE PRINCE AND FELL IN LOVE WITH HIM BUT THEN SHE GETS JEALOUS BECAUSE THE PINK-HAIRED-GIRL STOLE THE PRINCE'S ATTENTION FROM HER AND OH MY GOD I GOTTA WRITE THAT DOWN!