Hocus Pocus: Rising of a Little Witch

Chapter 13: The Dress

    I knew I had to inform the Sanderson's of what I found, but not before I explored some more. The circle of pine trees had touched me, as if it contained a form of ancient magic that drew me in; like Sarah's voice drew in children.
    When I entered the circle, a huge feeling of peace crashed down upon me. I knew that, like the Sanderson's, I was destined to be wicked. But I didn't want to think about that at the moment. Instead, I focused on finding clues to who had lit that torch. And something deep down told me that whoever it was, this circle was significant to them.
   Even though the smell of gasoline from the torch stung my nostrils to the point where I thought I'd pass out, it wasn't quite enough to stop me from searching. I checked everything, tree trunks, under piles of leaves, even under small pebbles.
    I was almost ready to sit down in defeat, when my eyes caught something. There, in the pile of boulders, was a huge crack with something black protruding from it. I set the torch down and made my way over. I had to climb a bit to reach it. When I had it, my hand was encased in a velvety material. Taking it to be what I had seen in Winifred's meadow, I pulled it out. It was heavier than it looked, and I had to tighten my grip on it.
     I climbed down and spread it out on the ground. It was a heavy black cloak. When I spread it out, the hood flew upward. I ran my hand over the smooth material. My fingers touched something rough near the hem. When I pulled on it, a small splinter of wood that had been stuck in the material almost gave me a sliver. I looked at it carefully and realized that it looked like the same type of wood the Sanderson's front steps were made of. Then, two and two came together.

Whoever had lit the torch had been wearing this cloak.
    I stuck the splinter of wood in the safest place I could think of, down my corset. I grabbed the cloak and threw it over my shoulder, before retrieving the torch. As I made my way back toward the cottage, the sun began to set, illuminating the sky a brilliant orange.
    As I entered the cottage, I saw that one of the sisters had lit a fire in the hearth. In the middle of the room, the cauldron bubbled over a fire as well. However nobody was in the room. Winifred's book sat open on the stand next to the cauldron. Their cloaks were hanging over their usual chairs and all three brooms stood in the corner. If I knew the Sanderson's , they never left without their cloaks. I looked toward the stairs and then up at the ceiling, but couldn't hear anyone on the second floor.
   To be sure that I wasn't just telling myself that there wasn't anyone home, I slammed the door closed, and loudly stomped my way across the room. I threw the torch onto the table with a bang, and I flung the cloak next to it. Still no noise.

"Winifred!" I shouted. "Mary? Sarah?"

   Suddenly, I heard boots hit the floor upstairs. My head shot back to the stairway just as Winifred appeared.

"Where hath thou gone?" she hissed. She was all dry now, her hair brighter than bright.

"I went looking for clues to who tried to burn this place down." I replied.

Winifred eyed the table curiously.
"And what hath thou found?"

  I gently raised the hem of the cloak. Just then, Mary and Sarah came running down the stairs, giggling. What had they been up to?

Winifred slowly approached me.

"I hath found this cloak." I picked up the torch. "And this torch."
   Winifred bore her front teeth awkwardly and took the torch from me. She held it at arms length, as if it would bite her or something. She then began to sniff it, only to draw back with a disgusted look on her face.

"What be that smell?" she choked.

"'Tis gasoline," I said, taking the torch from her. "A fire starter."

    Winifred put her hands on her hips as she made her way over to the cloak. She then picked it up and began feeling the material. Mary and Sarah crept up behind her, and watched intently as she explore every inch of the cloak.
"I hath seen this somewhere".
Winifred admitted. "But where?"

Mary and Sarah both looked at each other before they began to chant: "Remember, Winnie, remember. Remember, Winnie, remember."

"Hush, you fools!" Winifred screeched. "I cannot concentrate!"

   As Winifred ran her thumbs down the hem of the cloak, I turned and looked out the nearest window. I swear I felt someone watching us, watching me.

"Kaytrina, where hath thou found this?" she asked.

I turned back to her.
"In the woods," I replied. "Beneath a group of pine trees."
   Winifred pondered for a few moments. She then threw the cloak over the nearest chair and snatched the torch from me.
"Mary! Sarah! Perhaps we ought to give this girl her gift!" she declared.
Mary and Sarah giggled again as they both bound up the stairs.

I looked puzzled. Gift? Oh boy! What nasty, evil things could Winifred have conjured up for me?
    Truthfully, I didn't want to think of anything disgusting that Winifred could give me. The possibilities were endless. And the Sanderson's were, in fact, disgusting. Do you know what's on that vile shelf? Dead man's toes, the testicles of a bull, eyeballs and ever dead spiders. I would know because I cleaned every one of those viles!
   Just then I heard Sarah and Mary come back down. They came up behind me and stopped. I was nervous to turn around, but perhaps my gut was wrong. I turned around anyway.
   What they were holding was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
   It was a dress. A beautiful sky blue dress accented with black velvet and silver corset laces lining the front.
"We hath made it for you," Sarah bragged.

"Well, Winnie did most of the work," said Mary with a half-smile.
    Winifred looked pleased as Mary handed it to me. I took it in my grasp, and, tried so very hard not to cry like a baby. I brushed my cheek against the soft velvet. It truly was the most beautiful thing I had ever owned. And to think that three witches had given it to me! I couldn't help but shed a tear.

"Thank you!" I said, choking back tears of joy.

Winifred crossed her arms.
"Well, we can't have thee running amuck in knickers all year, can we?" she remarked, her head high.

"Amuck!" squeaked Sarah. She then began to dance idiotically. "Amuck, amuck, amuck, amuck, amuck, amuck!"
   Suddenly, Winifred's fist blew backward, smacking right into Sarah's middle. Sarah groped her corset and held out her tongue.

"Well, you oaf, what art thou just standing there for? Try it on!" hissed Winifred.

I did. It fit perfectly. It was incredible.

"It's perfect," said Mary, clapping her hands.
"See, Winnie, I told thou that thee had the measurements right!"

"Hmmmm...yes, well, it wasn't very hard to figure out. She's a very small witch." she remarked looking me up and down.
For the first time, the word witch didn't sound ugly to me whatsoever.