My Friend is a Witch

I never liked people. These strange creatures who have some sort of dependency on others. They always stick together, cry when someone leaves them, as if they are afraid to be left alone. But the worst thing about people is that they have this irritating addiction toward animals, and they tend to show it by touching our fur or taking us in their hands and bringing their faces closer to us, saying something unreasonable in a stupid voice. They like doing it to their little versions, but we are cats, and not those crying furless creatures that smell like poop and milk. However, people forget that if we are smaller in size, that doesn’t mean that we are all children. For example, I am concerned already about a grown-up cat, and it is so humiliating when people catch you in the street and perform their beloved ritual called “love”. The only human being I have ever admired is this one girl who lives in a small house just where the forest starts. She has this energy that reminds me of ours: she is always alone at her place and she seems to like that, she doesn’t need anyone else to feel complete, and I believe she is one of that small number of people who really love themselves. You might be curious how I understood that; well, it’s easy: every day she cooks something special for herself, she puts on her best clothes every evening, and she never hides her eyes from mirrors, oh no, she catches her reflection on every flat surface and smiles at what she sees. On some days she might even tell herself, “You’re gorgeous, Vicky!” But her best feature is that she respects my age and my personal space: she will never touch me unless I let her do that, not to mention lifting me into the air. Other people call animals that live with them “a pet”, showing their superiority over us, but she never claimed to be my “owner”. Our relations feel more like friends or some relative souls.

The first time I came up to her house was on a rainy day; my black fur was all wet, and I had been roaming outside looking for any shelter. Finally, I saw her lonely wooden house surrounded by forest. It looked like a place where some old ladies, who are unable to refuse an animal in a shelter, live, so I thought that I’d be fed and warmed up there. I went up onto the porch — my attention was caught by the dried plants hanging from the ceiling, whose smell broke through even the resinous scent of the rain. After examining the territory, I started scratching at the door. I knew it would not be easy to catch the attention of people inside the house, as the sound of the rain was very loud. Yet, in a couple of minutes, I felt steps nearing the front door. And she came out: a beautiful woman of about 20 or 25 years. I could never understand how people count their years. She had long dark hair that she braided — now I know that she makes that with her hair every time she cooks those strange soups. She can cook really tasty; I like the way she serves me meat and fish more than anything in this world, but sometimes she cooks those strange dishes that have an unpleasant color and a disgusting smell. However, I must mention that she never tries any of them; she pours it into small bottles and keeps them in a dark closet, the door to which is hidden under the carpet in her living room. But I guess every human has their own peculiarities. But what was I talking about? I have forgotten… Oh, how beautiful I am today… Vicky has made a small mirror for me, just like hers, so that I can look at myself every time. I like this creation of the human mind: before this, I had to look at myself only in the windows or puddles on the street, but the first is not very comfortable as your reflection is not that visible, and the second one is not always available. Oh, yes, I remembered what I was talking about…

The girl with a long braid and an apron above her beautiful dress came out. I suppose she went out because she needed some of her herbs and not because of me. In another situation, I would have already entered the house without even caring about the opinion of its owner, but I was astonished by her beauty for a moment, and, in addition, I felt some strong aura coming from her, so I thought that it was better to wait for her to let me come in. I was standing there, outside her house, looking at her pick what she needed for one of her strange recipes. Finally, she finished and turned her head to my side. She looked at me for a moment, then at the weather outside, and stepped aside, keeping the door open for me to enter. I entered the house immediately. Frankly speaking, I was ready to be taken in hand by some human with a parenting attitude, as people seem to suppose that we can’t walk on our own, but I thought that in this situation it was the lesser of evils. However, this girl was different. She let me come in by myself, brought some dry towels, helped me dry off — in this process, indeed, I needed some help — then she left the living room and came back with hot milk. She put the food by my side and left me alone, returning to her work. At that moment, I guess she won my heart, and I thought that I had finally found my home.

From that day, I have been coming back to that unusual house with a herbal smell every day. My favorite pastime since then has become spending cold rainy days with my new friend — I’d like to call Vicky that way — sitting by the fireplace on her knees, letting her stroke my fur. Those evenings, she mostly reads books or writes down something in her notebooks. I don’t know what people get from those papers with numerous little crooked sticks drawn on them, but I like to look at the lines Vicky draws: they look so carved, like vine branches. So we have been living together for two autumns already, respecting each other and sharing our love and care. She cooks for me, scratches my ears when I want her to, shelters me, and I, on my part, protect her food supplies as well as those strange potions from harmful rodents. Those animals indeed have no manners. However, sometimes people can be even more malicious and infuriating. To prove my point, I’ll tell you what happened once to my friend.

It was a pleasant spring day, which Vicky had spent gathering wildflowers and herbs in the forest. Sometimes, she would find a strangely smelling mushroom and would look so happy putting it into her basket. Finally, after a whole day of work, she went back home. I followed her, as I had had enough walking that day as well. But when we were almost approaching the house, I felt the smell of anger and negativity. By the way, I never understood how people survive without being able to predict danger by smell. Yet, I must mention that Vicky had her own senses that helped her, and that time as well, before I could warn her, she had already tensed as if preparing to defend herself. Before we could reach the porch, a wildly looking woman ran toward us.

“You, where have you been? You were trying to destroy someone else’s life with your potions? Why are you not answering me? Don’t have anything to say?”

Vicky went past that woman with her straight, graceful gait without even throwing a look at the uninvited guest. I admire how that woman resembles a cat sometimes. However, the aggressive woman didn’t appreciate that attitude as much as I did: anger made her face red, and when the girl was already approaching the house, the woman rushed forward trying to grab her hair. But the girl was ready for such an unrefined act and stepped aside before the woman’s hand reached her hair tied in a ponytail.

“You are on my territory. Don’t make me call the police.”

“Police! Oh, don’t you dare tell me what to do. You should be begging for my apology now.”

“I haven’t done anything to beg for someone’s mercy.”

“If you think you would be able to trick me the way you have tricked my stupid husband, you are not even a little bit smarter than he is.”

“I see you have problems with your husband. I suggest you solve them with him and not with me.”

“We had no problems until you appeared in our lives.”

“Oh, so you think making a person fall in love with you with the help of a potion is not a problem?”

“You are slandering me. I have never ever done anything bad to my husband.”

“Well, I believe that you don’t see the problem, but what you have done is unethical. You can’t make someone love you. And there is no magic in this world capable of doing that.”

“You are lying, he loved me. He loved me all those years.”

“What he felt wasn’t love, it was addiction. Do you know any happy person with an addiction? No. And your husband was suffering every day without even recognizing the reason for his misery.”

“Don’t lie to me. You are a witch, you just wanted to destroy our happiness.”

“Yes, I am a witch. Just like the one who made a love potion for you 15 years ago. I understand why you have done that, but you have lived the life of your dreams for long enough, now it’s time for your husband to choose by himself with a clear mind whether he wants to continue this life or not.”

“Even if so, you had no right to make that decision. I had done everything for him to be happy. I was a good wife all these years.”

“I don’t oppose your words, but you just don’t understand what you have done. You can’t imagine the power of the magic you have turned to. And I would like to know what unprincipled witch helped you with that.”

“I understand now. Okay, let me pay you for another potion, make it the right way. I’ll pay you as much as you wish, just return everything to the way it was.”

“I am afraid you don’t understand. I don’t do love potions. I have seen for myself how disastrous it can be, and I have sworn that I would never use it.”

“But you weren’t the one who used it, then why did you stick your nose into my family’s business?”

“I believed that knowing about the situation and doing nothing would make me feel like breaking the oath.”

“I don’t care how you feel. Give me my husband back! Or I’ll turn your life into a disaster. I’ll make sure everyone knows who you are.”

“Well, first of all, we are not in the 17th century, and women are no longer burned at the stake for gathering herbs and cooking. However, threats and intrusions into foreign territory are punishable by law. Therefore, I politely ask you to leave my land before I have to call the police.”

Vicky was still as elegant and calm as ever, which I can’t say about the unfamiliar woman. She kept throwing her sharp and rude words at my friend, so I felt that my help was needed. I bit her leg and made a hissing, threatening sound. That made the impact I expected. The woman got even angrier, but her fear was stronger, so she finally left. Vicky looked at me and smiled. She knelt next to me, stroked me, and said, “Thank you, my friend.”

From then on, I knew I was friends with a witch. I am not yet sure what that means, but I know for sure that she is the best witch in the world. That evening, she took out some old photographs. She showed them to me as well.

“Look, that’s me. And this is my mother.”

The woman in the picture wasn’t beautiful at all. Her sharp face looked even uglier because of the wild look in her eyes. I couldn’t understand how this woman could have such a beautiful daughter until Vicky showed me that one picture.

“And this is my father. This is the only picture of him that is left. I burnt all the others. It's the only time he was happy.”

The girl ran her hand over the photograph of her father. I saw sadness in her eyes despite the fact that she was smiling, looking at the person whose copy she was.

I couldn’t say why, but I knew that the woman who came today was the reason why Vicky remembered something that made her sad. That is why I found her house and, for the next month, I was leaving my sign on her porch every single day. Yes, I have my ways to protect my friend.