Once upon a time there lived a girl. She wasn't typically pretty but had this special charm that made people attached to her, trust her and ask for advice. The community accepted her just as she was, with all the weirdness in the aura that was surrounding her. There was something familiar and intimidating in her at the same time, something people couldn't fully understand.
Her hair was carbon black like the feathers of a young crow. It was the deepest shade of black, which seemed to change into blueish purple when late summer sunrays were touching it tenderly. She lived in a house near the large meadow on the edge of a forest, and was welcoming each day joyfully with her arms wide open. Her heart was full of love, she enjoyed long walks among the wild flowers and the way the world smelled at sunset.
She didn't like to talk about her "powers," she preferred to call them "the natural bond with all beings," because she was sure not everyone would have understood the connection she had with the world. The girl had the special ability to make people happy, and influence their feelings in other ways, but that was the one thing she has never done: she always wanted to see the world with a sincere smile on its face.
The girl was a witch.
But soon something happened; summer came to an end, and so did the girl's joy. She became trapped by her own feelings, trapped in her own magic. The girl has fallen in love. Uncontrollably, the feeling crept up her spine blooming with thorns, and rooted itself in her heart. Lovesick, she became bitter and unable of thinking about anything other than her own suffering. Autumn came quickly this year; it covered the world with cool, damp mist and spiders' cobwebs. It covered the girl's heart with dust. She has never felt this empty in her entire life, and she knew that the hole in her soul would never heal.
Slowly, her powers started to decay. Her hair was no longer soft and her white became torn to shreds, just like the girl's soul. But she still had the spark inside her; unrequited love didn't change her into an evil being, she did not sadness overwhelm her. She was still enjoying walks, when the meadow was sleeping under the cold autumn mists. She found comfort in the landscape of dying world. On the first winter morning she passed away. Peacefully, knowing that she will find tranquillity, she remained forever on the meadow where it all began.
If you ever find yourself wandering among the fields in late Autumn, on the verge of the forest you can find her in the mist, dancing in her white dress with raven black hair and a sad smile on her face.
Leave her be, just think of her sometimes and shed a tear.
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Przepiękna, magiczna sesja, a pierwsze zdjęcie szczególnie mi się podoba :-) Pozdrawiam :-)
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