Elena the witch

Fall break ended on Tuesday midnight last week. One of the better breaks I had, it was relaxing but not boring. If I have to be picky, I'd say it was a bit too short for my taste. But good things are better appreciated in small doses, no?

My boyfriend came over to spend Fall break with me. Our 'reunion' was done under extremely sleepy circumstances. Probably not the smartest thing to do, I stayed up till 4.30 am before going to bed, got a call from him at 6 am saying he'll be arriving in an hour, went right back to sleep at 6.01 am, and was abruptly woken up at 7 am after 22 missed calls. Yup, the day was barely awake and so was I.

I'm not gonna tell you everything we did in Fall break. :P But I will tell you the fun-nest thing we did was..... *drum rolls please* .......... carving pumpkins!!


The full moon is shining brightly. A few wisps of clouds are trying desperately to hide the moonlight, causing dancing shadows across the meadow. This meadow is no longer filled with lush grass, instead it is yellow, the yellow of dead grass and arid soil. No children come here to play anymore. No young couples stroll through the field. No happy squirrels scamper around searching for food. For it is rumored that at the edge of the meadow where the forest eagerly swallows all light, an evil witch resides.

In a village over the hill of Yorkshire, hungry wolves are gobbling up the last remains of a farmer's wife's prized chickens. She weeps over the chickens who gave her fresh eggs everyday, not knowing that on the other side of the field, werewolves are feasting on the poor farmer himself. Their howls can be heard for miles, bringing shivers down the villagers' spines.

Sitting on a stool, Elena murmurs indistinct words under her breath. She keeps looking around her hut, as though someone should appear at any moment now. "Stop kidding yourself, Elena", she thinks, "who would be here at such an ungodly hour?" Indeed, noone would. Not just because it's past midnight, but because everyone thinks she's the witch.

Elena always finds it amusing that people think she has supernatural powers. How she wish she does. Unfortunately, what she has are not magical abilities, but an intellectual mind and a deep knowledge of chemistry. The ignorant villagers claim that she brews lethal potions in her hut, chanting spells over her cauldron. Elena laughs. True, what she 'brews' can be called 'potions' if people must, but they are hardly lethal. At least not lethal enough to kill off the werewolves thus far.

The thought of werewolves causes Elena to sigh deeply. Her thoughts begin to move back through time...

When she was eleven years old, Elena was mauled by a werewolf. Thankfully she was not bitten, but the werewolf's sharp claws left a permanent scar on her pretty face. As she grew older, Elena blossomed into a beautiful young lady, but only if people looked at her right profile. She grew used to the gasps and horrorstruck faces that inevitably came each time she turned her head. Unsympathetic people ostracized her and children either ran away or hurled rocks whenever she was around. Soon, Elena preferred to be alone, at least her mind did not desert her.

Alone in her own world, Elena devoured book after book. She was fascinated by science, and obsessed with chemistry. Desertion made her empathize with other people who were similarly ostracized. Oddly, instead of harboring deep loathing for werewolves, she pitied them. They were innocent people forced to endure one night of violence and bloodthirst each month. Elena was determined to find a cure for them...

It's been months since she first arrived in Yorkshire, and still she was no closer to finding a cure for the werewolves. Every ingredient she could think of has been tested. Despair is seeping through her once optimistic mind. Time is ticking against her, she knows that every full moon that passes by means one more chance for the werewolves to discover her hiding place.

But Elena will not give up. At the top of the hill, a special flower blooms, but it is jealously guarded by the villagers. Instinct tells her she needs the flower, yet it is impossible to steal, and even more impossible to ask the villagers for it. She has been thinking about her dilemma for weeks. What should she do?

Sometimes, the best solution appears in the most unexpected manner. A few days ago, a villager stumbled upon her hut. Abraham was out hunting and injured himself by stepping on a deer trap. Elena tended to his wounds and soon an unlikely friendship began. She realized he was different from most villagers. Inquisitive and intelligent, he found out about her chemical experiments and was willing to help. To prevent the werewolves from locating her hiding place, Elena asked Abraham not to reveal her identity and intentions until they met the village leader.

Tomorrow morning they will meet the leader. Elena is excited and apprehensive. It's been very long since she last visited a village and she hopes she will not feel awkward during the meeting. Unable to sleep, she softly rehearses her little speech over and over again. "This is my chance", she thinks, "soon I'll find a cure". Elena smiles when she pictures Abraham chattering excitedly about their future experiments. She knows he has a lot of faith in her, and she knows she has finally found someone whose impression of a person's character is more than skin deep.

But she doesn't know that at this very moment, in a farm on Yorkshire where a woman weeps over her poultry, the werewolves are having a feast. A feast on her dear friend Abraham.