Hecate sits in her room, anxiety clenching over her. Why did she write that letter. WHat did she even write? She must have gotten it by now. Why isn't she saying anything. She starts to pace around the room. Christmas Morning? More like Hell. Ada knocks at her door.
„Are you okay, Hecate?", the blonde witch looks at her, concerned, sitting down on Hecates bed, watching her walk in circles.
„No I'm not.", her jaw clenches thight.
„I brought you a headache cure potion.", she's holding out her hand with the dark red fluid.
Hecate grabs it, chugging it down as fast as possible. The headache vanishes almost instantly, the empty feeling in her stays.
„It's going to be like this every year, right?", Ada smiles softly, remembering the years before.
"Maybe you should talk to her.", it's a carefully chosen question. Hecate stops walking. Then she sighs.
„YOu know I can't do that."
Ada places a hand, softly on her back.
„Didn't she write you every year?"
„She did, but I can't Ada." Sitting down she faces the window. "I can't. Not after what I've done to her."
...
Pippa hunches in front of her vanity, trembling. She had received the letter. It had been black and beautiful and honest and she had sent a message every single year. And after a few years she had given up hope almost completely, but sent the letters anyway. Bringing the paper up to her face she inhales. It even smells like her.
„I need you Hecate." Reaching into her pocket, she touches the dark wooden raven, once so sharp now from touching it so much soft and round. It feels so familiar after all those years of clenching it to her heart and keeping it in her pocket.
Then she meets her own eyes in the mirror. Her face is still beautiful, there's no doubt, the blonde hair still healthy and shiny, but dark circles sit under her eyes and her skin has fallen into her cheeks, carving her cheekbones out in an unnatural way. It's been almost a week since she had slept more then 2 hours at a time.
The nightmares had returned, after so long, leaving her scared of sleep, scared of dark corners. She mostly sits outside during the nights, letting the cold winter air be the only thing she feels, numbness covering her, creeping up her legs and arms.
Her mind is blank, a cloud of music filling it with memories. Dancing, laughing, washes over her and she repeats bringing back the memory, until the sun comes up.
And still , when she finally moves, the feeling of black hair lingers between her fingers, soft skin nearly touchable under her fingertips.
Classes are difficult, it's hard to teach when you can't sleep, but she just swallows a wide awake potion, crashing down after each class, repeating the circle. But then the letter arrived and for the first time in a few weeks she had put on lipstick. She had actually fallen asleep with the letter clenched to her.
But not for long, since a nightmare had formed as soon as she drifts away. She sits in the sun, a hand holding hers, stroking over her fingers. suddenly it starts to rain and the hand leaves her, darkness washing over her, she tries to find that hand again in pure fear. She screams, uncontrollably, and when she wakes up, the name lingers still on her lips.
„Hecate, I miss you so much.", curling into a ball she waits until the sun rises again.
The next morning, she stumbles to her mirror, calling Hecate.
It rings a few times, anxiety wells up in her, but then Hecate picks up. She knows she looks a mess, her hair tangled and dirty, her eyes full of the need to sleep.
„Hecate!", she exclaims.
„Miss Pentangle. What is it?", the stern voice startles her, she flinches, but the Hecate doesn't move, waiting impatiently.
Then the look of Hecates face changes to an expression of horror.
„Hecate, I got your letter.", pippa tries her best to keep her eyes open.
Then Hecate ends the call. The last thing Pippa sees are those dark eyes, widened in shock.
The students wait long for Pippa to arrive to her class. Usually she's a bit late, but today she does not arrive. Starting to worry they alert another teacher, who rushes to the pink chambers. Pippa lies in front of the mirror, exhausted and shaking with tears. „She did not mean it. She did not mean it.", the small body gets picked up and softly transferred into bed. Then everything goes dark for Pippa, as the sleeping potion spreads through her veins.
...
„Hecate.", Ada calles after her. The dark witch turns around, coat swooping behind her, her head still spins from her hangover, she had been particularly harsh this entire day. „Hecate, I've been informed, Miss Pentangle is sick." her books drop. Then she rushes to her rooms.