Beth

I am wicked and I am evil; I know that I am, I don’t try to hide it, not one little bit. I only need my two sisters, and that’s it, no one else. If we stick together not a soul can hurt us, not again, never again. My name is Beth, I live with my twin siblings Mary and Jasmin, the first triplets in our family tree. We were orphaned 4 years ago when our parents died in a plane crash flying to our grandmother’s funeral in Germany; we have no living relatives left.
We grew up in a country house way out in the sticks, flanked by acres and acres of forest, it takes us two hours by bus to reach the nearest village where we shop and go to school. Spending four hours travelling every weekday for education and food takes its toll, we were usually too tired to have friends, so we grew up as each other’s best friends. This suited us fine, when one of your sisters gets kidnapped and tortured half to death by so-called ‘friends’ for being an orphan, that’s when we realised that we only needed each other.
Mary and Jasmin were identical, I however did not look like them at all, the runt of the litter, but I made up for my lack of beauty with pure powerful intelligence. I practically home schooled my sisters and helped them with their coursework. In my spare time I would also teach them in the ways of my other great love: Satanism. My obsession started when my parents died, I wanted a way to bring them back in my despair, which is when I stumbled upon this art form. After only a few weeks of diligent learning, I managed to briefly see my parents again. They were screaming and burning in the plane they crashed in, which was being devilishly licked by red-hot flames from the depths of hell. The pain etched on their faces was pure agony. From then on, my intrigue and urge to know more got stronger and stronger, most people would be put off by the sight of their family burning in the underworld, but not me, I saw the power of the experience. Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday I taught my sisters all I knew about my favourite subject. We practice what we learn on Sundays, the ‘religious’ day, doing our chant’s and spells on any animal which happened to stumble into our traps placed around our property. Our biggest achievement to date was to give the group of bullies who kidnapped my sister an incurable disease, a week later, they had all died, very painfully I heard.
The other kids in school were starting to fear us, they could sense something strange about us. Even the teachers were becoming frightened as rumours started to circulate, that we killed creatures, sacrificed them in exchange for special powers…they were 100% correct, but they had no proof, not enough to say the rumours to us, or any authority. That was until we burnt off the face of an ignorant gutterboy who dared call us witches, right in the middle of the village square. We actually have come to like that name, witches, to be compared to such powerful beings only empowered us more. However, with such a public display of our abilities, we knew that a backlash would come…but we didn’t care. They chased us back to our home like they used to in the olden days (they weren’t sporting pitchforks but smartphones), we didn’t run because we were scared of them, we just knew that our most commanding spells could be summoned from our abode.
After stumbling through the front door of our house, we immediately began chanting. We decimated the baying mob with one stomach churning spell, they all dropped dead instantly, falling where they stood. From then on we weren’t disturbed, we lived in our forest home practicing and honing our skills. We were left alone for decades, enough time to be only remembered in fables and tales passed on from elders. We only went into the village to shop, not for food, but for souls of the scum living there…double double, toil and trouble, fire burn and cauldron bubble.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: