She crawled out from under the table and peered at the the mouse running into its hole, having stolen cheese off the baker’s table.
She was a curious little child. But that wasn’t the only thing strange about her.
She played in the attic , often times by herself. Oblivious of the the cobwebs and spiders. She liked all things spooky and dark. She had never said a word ever since she was born.
Mother and father had long since given up.  Doctors confirmed she wasn’t mute neither was she dumb. She could hear. She could speak. But she never did. Or never wanted to. But she would stare into your eyes as though seeing through your soul. She listened with rapt attention, never missing a detail when told to go for an errand. But she never voiced ..not her pains or her happiness. She was a shadow that creeps up behind you but vanishes when you turn. She made people wary. She made them scared. No one liked to be scared.
They called her “the damn”. “Devils spawn” …”the forgotten”. She never let’s you touch her hair. She never wore a decent dress. She would cut and tear every apparel worn. And sometimes her skin with it.She would sit still and rock. Staring Into nothing. Biting her lower lips and sometimes her little finger. She never shed a tear from a wound or a burn. She was sometimes never even there.
Kill her !! Kill her!! Burn her and free her. Kill her!! And let the devil be away from us!!” The chants woke her up from her sleep. Her mother’s screams brought her to the stairs. Her father’s shouts made her crawl closer to stare unpon the commotion.  The village was at her door, with fire and stones and axes and saws…”burn the witch. Rid us from the devils spawn. .light her up. .her and her family..kill her kill her”  they sang in one voice..
She remembered what her mother looked like before her face became ashes. Or her father’s hearty smile before his head was cut off and placed on a spike. She remembered what her house looked like before it smelt off smoke and how tiny she was when they led her to her death..but she never cried. Nor screamed when they cut her heart out of her chest and fed it to the dogs. She remembered it all. And she was coming back for them..but for now…she closed her eyes..and let her skin burn. And let them rejoice..for this time tomorrow. .they will hear her voice….

To be continued. .


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