The Demons Control

There is nothing wrong with me. At least, that’s what I tell myself at the late hours of the night. Maybe this is all just in my head, or I was cursed with witches’ blood?  No, no—I am perfectly well. I did some snooping around the land to relieve myself of my… problem.  You see—and hear me out before you snitch on me! Ever since I was a little girl I’ve been burdened with the despair of lost, angry souls. They prodded at me, screamed at me… my parents gave up on me. They blame the death of my older brother on me, me! I did not even touch him; he fell on his own… I was just nearby. They told me they wanted no connection with a witch, because not only would I be in danger, they said they would be too—for harboring me, that is. Family is family, but they left me and I had to let them do it.
Looking back—I suppose I was sort of… difficult to live with. I’d awaken mid-night screaming. Screaming back at the figures that tried to horrify and hurt me. Blood curdling screams possessed my father to attempt his own kind of medicinal practice on me, if you can call it that. When I woke him up with my chilling cries, he would come over to me and use his fists until he was bloody and would not stop until I became unconscious—I would not cease my trembling otherwise. Also, whenever I’m in the vicinity of things, they have the tendency to… do things. Sometimes they fly across the room, sometimes they go missing, but I was the only one who experienced that though. No one would believe me! Can you believe that? These spirits have made me trip and bloody my face and no one believes that they are real.
It hasn’t been too long a time since my parents moved away from me, leaving the spirits and the house they believed to be tainted by my curse—I wasn’t too young nor too old, and it’s only been a few years. I’ve about reached womanhood but no man would dare to marry me if they knew my story. I’ve been able to keep my secrets locked up inside my rattling chest of a soul, but people can still tell something is off about me. Who wouldn’t find a pretty young girl abandoned by her parents odd? It certainly struck up some questions and people cannot help but stare, so I try to stay inside as much as possible—which leaves me with porcelain, sickly complexion.
People say that “time heals all wounds,” but my night terrors have not stopped, I’ve just learned how to barely cope with them. Thinking, I sat down in the corner of my feeble home, ignoring the spirits that bit me and shouted into my ear about how worthless I was. Thinking… thinking, I know I’ve had enough of my life but I didn’t know if I had the motivation to fix it at all. I thought of my father—the scars he left me from his attempt at curing me, I thought of what I could do too end my struggle. Could I give up and turn myself in for witchcraft?
“No,” I muttered audibly, “there has to be another way.” The spirits cackled and screamed insults, prodding me to my demise, rattling my ear drums. There has to be another way, I told myself, wiping my moistened eyes. Tears were trying to escape my body, they too were done with the torture my body and mind have withheld. I sort of envied them, being able to up and leave a miserable soul whenever they so felt like it. It angered me. I needed to do something, but “something” wasn’t working. I’d have to do a different something.
In the late hours of the next night I slinked out of my cottage, barely making a sound. I covered myself in a tattered shawl to hide my ghostly face and long, dirty burgundy hair. People knew me but they didn’t, not nearly. If someone saw me they would know me as the young woman who no one knows, who everyone questions, the town mystery that everyone is too scared to deduce. I laughed to myself… so much hype over nothing, there’s nothing weird or unnatural about me. I’m being set up to burn at the stake—I needed to fix this before it became too late. In the late hours of the night I slinked into the forests leading out yonder. I have been through this routine many times, once a fortnight I go out and search a new remedy for what ails me. I had my currency in a small sack—I do odd jobs out of town, and I went my usual way. I would be going far away, farther than most of the townspeople have ever ventured forth to, some individuals like to believe where I go doesn’t exist, that it’s an entirely separate reality—but it’s really just a forest way, way out of town. It’s nothing special, I’m nothing special, so why does my whole existence seem a big deal?
The woman I would be seeing goes by the name Aenwyn. Aenwyn is a gently wrinkled cast of mystery. I know not her age, I just know that she’s the only one who is willing to help me. Aenwyn is a witch, and so it would make my case worse if people knew I was going to see her.  I first met Aenwyn when I was a little girl—the age of 12, a few days after my parents left me to fend for myself. It was in this very forest that I made her acquaintance, speckled with cool tones of green and blue, whispers that filled me up with a delightfully chilling sensation. After I was illegitimately orphaned all I knew was that I wanted to leave, run far away, I didn’t care where I’d end up or what would happen to me. After a few days of course, I passed out tired and starved soon after I wandered into Aenwyns forest. I felt as if I were dying, and as I felt the life slipping from my body, the evil voices and figures went with it. Just as I thought—happily, that I closed my eyes for the last time, I woke up in a sweet-smelling cottage next to a tender looking face. She told me of her practice in witchcraft and I was too scared to stay-- I didn’t want my situation getting worse! I left awkwardly but surely out of Aenwyns cottage, and somehow made it home. It took me ‘till I was 15 to realize I wasn’t sure if I wanted to live or die, so I sought to Aenwyn to give me help for whichever fate I decided. For now, I decided to live while condemning my demons that so much wished to put me at the stake.
Soon enough I found myself in that cool-smelling forest I had gotten so used to. Parts of me wanted to make my home here, but I didn’t want to put Aenwyn or myself in danger. I pulled my shawl over myself tighter as I observed my warm breath collide with the cold air. I listened to chipmunks scurry away, tripping over twigs as my boots crushed withered leaves. The flowers seemed to watch me, whispering greetings to me as I approached Aenwyns cottage once again. I watched my smoky breathe leave my body once more before I knocked on the moss ridden wood door.
“Elsbeth! So you’ve come back once more, did the quartz not help you?” The door opened and immediately there was a gust of warmth that hugged and cradled me as Aenwyn stood in the doorway, beckoning me in.
“Y-yes, it didn’t work… The voices won’t stop but I can handle that. I just want to be able to get some sleep at night. I feel as if my poor neighbors are suspecting something when they hear screams in the middle of the night—coming from my home!” I looked away shyly, “It’s sort of embarrassing… but I would be troubled too if I heard that.” I took my left hand away from my mouth, where I had been unknowingly been biting on my miserable looking nails. Nasty habit, but the least of my concerns. Aenwyn sighed solemnly and turned to her shelf. She was quite mesmerizing. Her long silver hair blew softly in the breeze of the room and her body moved with grace. It’s as if she puts a spell on you as soon as you look at her, because I didn’t even notice she was talking to me.
“Elsbeth! Can you hear me darling?” She said, as if she wasn’t used to me zoning out.
“My apologies, can you repeat that?”
“Anise seeds,” She stressed, then pointing at my sack of coins, “put these in that sack and place it under your pillow. It should drive your nightmares away.” Casually, she grabbed my sack of coins and emptied it into a jar, replacing them with the anise seeds, then giving it back to me.
I didn’t like staying long, it riled up my anxieties, made the voices worse. I nodded and left out the door, bound home, not even looking back at the only person who seemed to care about me. It’s peculiar, I hold Aenwyn so dear to my soul but rather than treat her with love like I want to, I treat her with disassociated aloofness. Since I knew the way back well, I got back to my cottage ‘round sunrise.
I entered what I call home and immediately was filled with dread. The atmosphere here is so much different than it is at Aenwyns home, I hated it. I took a few steps inside, the dirt on the floor turning into mud from the morning dew on my boots, and threw the anise seeds into a basket containing everything else I tried. I was eager to try them but couldn’t until late, I had to do some work so I could get supper for tonight. I sat on my makeshift bed, breathing in and out, resting my sore legs and mind. My eyes ached and screamed as I refused to look at the figures that were appearing and disappearing before me, my eyes were still curious but my mind was not. After resting for a few winks I stood back up and strolled out the door, unwillingly ready to start a new workday.
I got back home before sunset, ready to rest once more. I was excited to try Aenwyns recommendations so I could, possibly, get a good night’s sleep. I walked inside with a sigh, new bruises and scuffs appearing to me on my skin. The voices hurried me to get inside, it made me hesitate as I walked into my dark home—I just needed to get over to the other side to light a candle! As soon as I was fully into the room, I heard a swing of a sword swoosh right past my head, I shrieked, hoping this was just another hallucination—all my hallucinations feel real. Sometimes I feel as though my whole life actually doesn’t exist. While I was lost in my thoughts, my unidentified attacker clocked me in the back of the head with the blunt of his sword, knocking me out cold.
I awoke with a cry as I had finished having another nightmare. The voices rejoiced as big hands put a rope around me. My vision was hazy—due to the blunt force on my skull, but began to focus as I saw several upon several faces looking up at me in fear. I wiggled my body, but I was tied tight to a post— a wooden post. My heart about to burst, I looked around more, a bulky knight was spreading hay around the base of my post—the voices laughed. The voices turned into the shadows of the crowd. The shadows dripped upwards, obtaining what seemed to be a physical form and pointed at me. No one else seemed to notice—I was used to it. I stared blankly at the clouds, tears escaped my eyes. As the tears fell, I felt my soul lift up from me, I felt my sadness leave me—I felt content.
Another knight brought over my basket of remedies, crystals, spells—meant to relief me of my sickness, revealing my sentence to death, relieving me of this life I am living. My eyes darted to the left and I saw Aenwyn carrying more items obtained from my cottage, in my moment of fear all my senses sharpened. I heard a few words spoken by my dear mentor.
“See, see what I told you? This young women is not holy, she works for the devil.” The devil! My heart stopped. The monsters in my head snickered and echoed what Aenwyn had said, louder and louder, hammering it into my brain. I had no friends, maybe this was for the best after all? Flames started to lick up at my legs as I closed my eyes. The chanting from inside my head grew intense, and I screamed at them to stop—I didn’t want to hear it! I did not want to be reminded of my miserable, lonely existence.
What does one think about in her time of demise—her family? I have no family. Lovers—there was one once. Around the time I met that old hag, Aenwyn, I also met a boy near my age. He seemed to me very handsome and kind, gentlemanly. His name escapes me now because I have tried so hard to forget it, but he was magical—not in the literal sense. I fawned over him for a while, doing jobs for his family. This boy—his name was Barnaby, I remember! This boy had fluffy brown hair and deep eyes that reminded me of the colors on the trees, he would pull me aside and look intensely into my face. 
“You look troubled and wounded,” He would whisper to me, “What’s wrong?” When he looked into my cerulean ocean eyes, I swear it made a swirl of water and earth to help create a deep valley that would connect out hearts—and this connection made me want to tell him what was on my mind, but I didn’t. I was a mystery to him from the moment he met me to the moment he died; We were walking through to a high piece of land over a winding river, Barnaby dearest pointed to the water splashing against the rocks below and told me that it reminded him of the emotions that he could see in my eyes… he leaned in to touch our lips together softly and in a split second he fell backwards, into the miserable river. He fell, just like my brother—I never wanted to love again, maybe I was cursed?
The thoughts of cool water in my mind almost put out the fire around me until I snapped back to reality. The demons inside of me has caused me and so many others so much pain—they grew louder and I screamed at them. As my body burned, the intense pain made me smile as the demons left my body with a soft cackle. People around me chanted, rejoicing my death just as much as I. This is what I wanted, this is what I deserve. I am at peace. Brother, Barnaby, I will see you again.