Chased by the inquisition, hounded by people from the town, accused of witchcraft. Flipped books on black magic, items that indicate that I could dance with the devil himself. The pieces of evidence were undeniable, the only thing wrong with them was that they were untrue.
A lonely woman with a glow in the hair and the stars in her eyes, was the perfect victim when people began accusing the bolder townswomen of witchcraft.
It’s been four years since I was marked with the witch’s mark. But here, in the farthest corner of the mountains, no one was looking for me, no one was bothered by me anymore. I became nobody, I became a shadow and a ghost. Living in the middle of the forest, not standing out, now with a ranger husband, with a daughter who always runs away somewhere, deep into the woods.
And she always comes back with an inspired expression on her face and a strange glow in her hair.
Now, looking at the setting sun from behind the branches of the trees, I sigh, sucking in the smell of pines. I feel safe here. I feel that I am bound to be a forest apparition. They call it a witch. I call it freedom.
The glow in my hair gleams slowly, singing a silent light song, as I look into the soothing dusk.