Catch Me If You Can

I stepped out of the burning house, holding my baby sister's hand and our mother's words in my heart. Survive the fire. That we weren't supposed to fight it. That we should never try to extinguish the flame. Because the more you feed it, the more you fight against it, the more it grows until it eventually burns you alive. That's why you have to embrace it and use it to protect you.

They found us. Not the fire but the ones who caused it. We were all asleep when they came and burned our home, like cowards. Only me and my sister made it. We didn't have time to cry and mourn. We had to run.

I knew we should've run before. I warned my family as soon as the executioners committed their first murder. I knew that sooner or later, their fire would catch us. They didn't listen to my warnings and they paid the price. Now I need to run.

I ran through the woods, trying to avoid the flames and the shouts of the executioners. I was running out of breath, wondering where those great powers we were promised resided. I was told that I would only have that power once I found my clan. My coven. But me and my sister being together should be enough. She was my family, all I had to live for and protect.

I was running out of breath, my back aching as I carried my sister, but I couldn't give up. I tried my best to keep running, until I tripped on a tree branch.

I slowly looked at my sister. "Are you hurt?"

She shook her head. She wasn't looking at me. I looked at where she was gazing, when I spotted the fire. While running away from the fire, we had accidentaly run towards it. Running towards a different kind of fire. A warmer more welcoming one, a light flicker illuminating the dark woods. Should I run away or towards it? I was taught to fear fire, but I didn't sense any threat and that's when I realized thatI could no longer hear the sound of the executioners chasing and shouting at us. They had vanished.

I told my sister to hide behind a tree. I wasn't going to lead her to any danger, but I needed to know where the fire came from. As I stepped into the darker more forbidden side of the forest, I saw them. Located in the middle of the woods, the bodies of the executioners piled up where the fire wood should be and their killers.

Surrounding the fire were the women of the night, black capes hugging their bodies, stained by the blood of the predators now turned prey. Their very existence caused the hysteria. They were a threat to everyone else, but a means to an end for people like me. We're the monster. We're the villains, the ones antagonized in the stories people have been told since birth.

Every child has grown up listening to the horror stories of the evil wicked witches, how they were a stain in a perfectly crafted world. They were told they had to fear us because we knew the world through a different lens. Society's structure was fragile, and we could make it crumble with a snap of our fingers if we wanted it.

And they knew that too. The common men. The ones who chased us. The ones who silenced us. The ones preaching the words of God but going against every thing He stood for. Chasing and burning innocents while claiming their love for the world. Their world.

But they weren't wrong on one part. We were dangerous. We had powers but we weren't powerful because the true power lies in the hands of the executioners. They're the ones killing and taking from us. They're the ones burning innocents who didn't fit into their ordinary box. Most of them weren't true witches, but they weren't like them either, and for that they had to be punished.

And for that, they had to be avenged. Every single one who was hanged, burned and humiliated, everyone who was accused of witchcraft, even if it was true, had to be avenged.

The women looked back at me. I didn't fear them. I knew I didn't have to. They were like me and my sister. Outcasts. Witches. Women. The most dangerous mixture in the world. My family.

The leader of the coven walked towards me, the fire barely touching her. Her cape didn't burn. The fire allowed her to walk.

As she stepped closer, I noticed her facial features perfectly resembled a siren, as her golden hair reached her waist. If she walked in the sun, everyone would be able to tell she was unique. Like a child of the sun. Someone that enchanting couldn't blend in society.

The rest of the women looked normal, whatever that word meant, but they had these striking features that tell them apart from the average person. Features so enchanting that only a true witch could possess. Each of them wore gloves and a flower crown. Belladonnas. Otherwise known as the Deadly Nightshade. Worn with pride. Worn as a symbol of our strength and power. Meant to stand out, not to hide.

The blonde girl offered her hand. She was asking me to join them. To wear the belladonna crown. To be a true witch.

I felt my sister hold onto my leg, hiding her face on my waist. I gave her a reassuring smile, but we both knew what would meant if we went with the coven. Our lives would be bound together for eternity. We would officially become outcasts.

But we already were outcasts. We were a target. They had already taken too much from us. And I would choose that path over letting the fire catch me. I choose controlling it over letting it be my ruin.

So I took her hand and stepped into the fire.