The children are at the window of my little home in the pine woods, holding each other with fear and excitement. All is prepared. Our show must begin. That way, they'll leave me well alone, and I will earn a little money, and the villagers will tolerate me here. Everyone must fulfil their role. I like being the witch who lives in the dark forest. I like to talk to my darling ghost without people thinking I'm crazy.
Sophie loved this night. It's fitting she plays witches apprentice with me now, though the children cannot see her. Having a job to do keeps her with me, and so, we begin as soon as they arrive. I can feel her, shifting the cool air inside the shack, making it tremble. My left hand is freezing from where she holds it tight, and I shake her free so I can start.
The first step to frighten children is to hunch. They've been taught to be scared of the crooked ones, the hunched, the deformed. To them, good people are beautiful, and evil ones have hairy moles and missing teeth. Charcoal gives that illusion easily. They do know I'm a perfectly normal looking person, but there's that inkling of doubt they have that makes my performance convincing, as if I am revealing my true self. Sophie wants to show herself and is tensing her small and wispy form, but remains invisible to all but me.
The second step to frighten children is to create an awful lot of froth and bubble, noise and trouble. There is string attached to bottles - I give them a twitch and they crash to the floor. The big cauldron on the fire is sending plumes and billows of steam into the air. It is making my mascara run, which drips down my face in stripes. Distant thunder does the rest, and Sophie taps on the occasional shoulder to little effect but to make the hair on their neck stand on end.
The third step to frighten children is blood. For this, I have raspberry syrup. It is very convincing. When I turn from the window I smear it on my lips and let it drip down my chin. I cackle and the ghost of my dead daughter cackles with me. I love this girl. She knows how to have fun. I can almost hear her voice squeal: 'dragon's blood!' but it is faint after all of these years, and my voice drowns her out.
'Eye of newt!' I mutter loudly as I sprinkle mustard seeds into the cauldron. When I was a girl, I thought eye of newt was the single glistening eye of salamander. The children recoil as if they possess this information too. 'Wing of bat! Graveyard dust!' Into the cauldron goes curled red hibiscus flowers and a pinch of charcoal. 'Dragon's blood!'. I am screeching now, fully embodying my witchy self. I dance around the room. The ghost of Sophie dances with me. I wonder if they can see her.
I add my favourite ingredient, blackberry juice, shouting loudly as I pour it into the pot, dipping my fingers in it and painting stripes on my face. 'Essence of midnight! Essence of darkness! Essence of the end of the world!'
'Zombie toes!' I cry, adding two finger dates. 'Ear of warlock!' as the apricots are added to the syrup. 'Spider venom!' Vanilla is expensive these days, but it does make the final syrup taste good. It is my halloween gift to them, poured into bottles, a sweet syrup that is a tonic for children at this time of year, when coughs and colds can sometimes be the death of little ones, like my little dead Sophie.
If only I had saved her. If only the villagers had helped, and sent for the doctor. I could not afford the medicine, but they could have. I have never forgotten that. It is part of the reason I live in the forest. I cannot bear to look at their faces, drawn hard with guilt and shame for their inaction. Tom, the blacksmith, did not want to lend his horse. Janie, his wife, thought it was too far to go in the snow. Elsie, the reverend's wife, thought that the child was God's now, and there was nought for them to do. In my grief, I had left the village, but not too far away, because Sophie had appeared and never left again.
Sometimes she inspires me, whispering in my ear, reminding me of ingredients I've long forgotten or inventing new ones. There's no other day on earth that she is closer to me as All Hallow's Eve. This year she whispers in my ear about elderberry, and I nod and call out 'guardian of the night sky!' as the children move closer to the window, their little eyes big and wide with both fear and excitement.
Thyme becomes 'the whispering herb' as I pluck it from the hearth and sprinkle it from a theatrics height. Lemon juice, squeezed into a coconut bowl, becomes the 'juice of a sorcerer, poured from his skull'. Thick and viscous honey is 'nectar of the fairies'. Some years Sophie is more creative than others. This year is a good year. The syrup will be the best yet. The children will leave coins on the doorstep and they will be nourished by my potion. They will snatch it up and run squealing, and I will listen to them as they go bravely into the night and back to their mother's laps to sleep.
This year, Sophie and I are feeling mischievous. To the syrup, we add coffee beans, lots of them. The children will not sleep this Halloween, and their parents will be up with their nightmares, just as I am up with mine.
Still, I don't mind being awake with my darling ghost. She's good company.
With Love,
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This is incredibly moving and immersive. For a second I thought Sophie was a real character until I read further and figured she's the ghostly friend.
I've never celebrated Halloween but your use of vivid imagery and the way the story blends elements of magic, sorrow, and mischief create a unique and powerful narrative that makes me feel what it's like to celebrate Halloween. Hehehe. Such a heartfelt and enchanting tale.
I've never celebrated it either! A straight up haunting didn't interest me, but when I wondered why the woman was living in the forest, and the ghost daughter entered, then the story took shape. I'm so glad you enjoyed it, that means an awful lot, @teknon !
I'm surprised you haven't. In my country, it's not really a thing that's why. Care to share why?
A very good shape at that.
Always a pleasure ☺️
I am Australian, and it's an american tradition. It's seasonally wrong here as we are in Spring, and I don't like the consumerism attached to it here. Plastic crap and begging for sweets just don't do it for me.
Very valid reason. I respect your preference.
I think I do a rant post about it every year haha but this time I thought I'd do the story instead.
Oh wow! I guess I've been missing out on the rant post. Will def be on the look out next year. The story was worth it anyways. Have a good one<3
Now if this is not the most creative way I've seen someone both make coffee and ruin Halloween for parents
Hats off 👏 🙌
Hahahaha yeah I might give it a go. Trick or treat!
This is real good. I saw it all with my minds eye. You have a great way with words River. And men, this was sad as much as it was thrilling. Really great.
I do like to thread a little blackness through a story 👻 thankkkkyouuuuuu
Sophie’s character here may be spooky but I love how the story ended. What a great spooky story for the Halloween prompt. What an interesting story and indeed beautifully written!
Thanks so much! I loved Sophie. She may be a ghost but she just wants to have fun with Mum - then again, she's also a figment of Mums grief stricken imagination! I would have liked more words to FLESH out this one!
I thoroughly enjoyed your story as I always do. I like the tone and believable setting and thanks for commenting on the other stories. I smiled at your comments, cos you're always spot on.:)
Thanks lovely, tried my best to give love where it is due. 💗💗💗 thanks for stopping by, I know it's tricky with so many to comment on but I really appreciate it x
It's my pleasure, always 💗💗💗
Such sinister plot hehe!
I felt kind of a sad nostalgia as I read through the story, don't know if that's what you were aiming for but very well depicted!
Yes, you got it. It's more grief for what is lost but nostalgia picks up on the longing I think. Thanks!
Hello riverflows!
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This was pure magic - excuse the pun! What a beautiful story of love, loss, and connection. I smiled throughout at the antics of mother and daughter. The closeness of their relationship, and the fact they have one night a year to celebrate it was touching. The imaginatively named ingredients for the witches' brew and the children's response made for an entertaining read, This was genius; an exquisite, funny, cute, and moving tale. Loved it, Riverflows 💗 !LUV !ALIVE !PIZZA
Oh goodness you are a GEM coming to read my story! Made my day. Thanks so much! Looking forward to reading YOU soon... Currently with the grandbaby goblin xx
Aw so blooming precious! You must be in your element. Hope you've had a fun day !LUV
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