Greetings fellow Steemians! Here is my 12th "5" minute* freewrite. The prompt is "witches".
*Not 5 minute this time, 90 minute ;)
This piece is a continuation of yesterday's freewrite, and the ninth installment in an ongoing story. Let's see how long I can keep this up, using the prompts provided!
Part I: @bennettitalia/freewrite-129-fingernail
Part II: @bennettitalia/the-strangeling-part-ii-freewrite-130-wasps
Part III: @bennettitalia/the-strangeling-part-iii-freewrite-131-solitude
Part IV: @bennettitalia/the-strangeling-part-iv-freewrite-132-gardening
Part V: @bennettitalia/the-strangeling-part-v-freewrite-132-the-attic
Part VI: @bennettitalia/the-strangeling-part-vi-freewrite-132-plaid
Part VII: @bennettitalia/the-strangeling-part-vii-weekend-freewrite-3-3-2018
Part VIII: @bennettitalia/the-strangeling-part-viii-weekend-freewrite-3-3-2018-apricot
Freewriting is a daily practice for most poets and fiction writers, designed to loosen up and get things flowing, like stretching before exercise. Visual artists, especially those who draw or paint from life (figures, landscapes, still lives, etc) do something similar in "gesture drawings". After reading several of @poetrybyjeremy's freewrite posts, I got excited to try these again. Many thanks to @mariannewest for hosting this daily freewrite! @mariannewest/day-137-5-minute-freewrite-monday-prompt-witches
https://pixabay.com/en/medium-psychic-female-fantasy-woman-goth-1726601/
"Pleased to meet you, Apricot" I replied, shaking her hand, "I'm Caspian".
"You're a Chameleon". She spoke matter-of-factly, as if in response to something she'd just heard me say. "I've never spoken to one before. Never got close enough. Your kind aren't easy to get close to".
I nodded.
"So what do you want with this Strangeling? Come to bring her back have you? Return her to her owners?" She continued to speak evenly, without a hint of sarcasm or recrimination.
I nodded again, feeling miserable.
"But now you're having second thoughts. In love with her, huh?"
My eyes involuntarily sought out the Strangeling's. Mia's. Gazing at me, her look of mischievous amusement melted into something soft and sweet and warm, something I knew it would be impossible to ever get enough of. When her eyes returned to Apricot, they were dancing again. She was loving this. "Better to just tell her the truth", she said to me, "struggling only prolongs the agony".
I turned to Apricot with a questioning look, tilted my head in Mia's direction. "She's happy. Relaxed. Why?"
"Because I'm her mother" said Apricot.
I practically swallowed my tongue. This woman was messing with me, and it was working. When I found my voice, it sounded thin, raspy, like something that had been worn to the verge of disintegration. "How is that possible?"
A soft chuckle and a raised eyebrow. "Tsk Tsk. Relax detective. Not by birth. When Mia was trying to escape the clutches of those who designed her, I found her. Not physically at first, first I just felt her. Half a city away. She's big, much bigger than most... I felt that and followed it, and I found her, and brought her here. Beyond their reach..."
She smiled affectionately at Mia. Then the smile left her face, and her rosy cheeks turned pale. "What are those?" She asked.
I looked all around, in something like panic. My Senses hadn't picked up anything dangerous. I knew there was no one else in the room. What could she be talking about?
"Wasps" Mia said. Her eyes were glazed, distant, her face pinched in something like pain.
"Ugh" said Apricot, with a note of disgust, like a little kid being offered a plate of liver and onions. "They're trying to sting me. It isn't working, but... it isn't comfortable either. Eventually they're going to get me..." She trailed off, turned to Mia. "Now I see why you came. The problem is, what do we do about him?" she looked sadly in my direction. "Or more accurately, his chip"?
Mia's face was ashen. A single tear traced the contour of her cheek, and I thought, as I always did, about the storm of tears she must be holding back. "They can find him anywhere because his chip is registered", she said miserably, apologetically. "I thought the camouflage spells might confuse them enough to throw them off the scent. I couldn't think of any other options." Her gaze fell to the floor. "I'm sorry".
Apricot considered. "Well yes, that might work, but it won't work forever. Certainly they've lost the trail... for now. They don't know where he is, but they're looking for him. In a kind of panic. And they know who he's with." She winced and raised a hand to her forehead. "Heaven help us if they find their way through the camouflage spells. Of course the web is there as a backup, but even if the Wasps get trapped and confused, their chips will be traceable. The Handlers will follow them here, and this church will no longer offer sanctuary to any of us."
"Please", Mia asked, and I was startled by the entreaty in her voice. "Please, will you take us to one of the Solitudes?"
Apricot looked astonished, then thoughtful. "That's an idea. It hadn't even occurred to me, Mia. I'm so used to trying to keep you out of them... but I think... I think." The tentative tone in her voice was replaced by a determined one. "I think you're exactly right. Come."
We followed her toward the pulpit, then to the left and through a dark wooden door, into what must once have been the priest's private study. A queen sized mattress, mounted on a heavy platform of plywood that was suspended from the ceiling by an array of chains and ropes, dominated the tiny room. Strange sigils were painted on each of the walls, in a variety of luscious colors. You'd think a witches' chambers would be decorated mostly in black. Apparently not.
Apricot knelt and slid easily under the plywood, fiddling with something. After a moment a faint click came, and then she disappeared, feet first, into the ground. Mia followed. When my turn came, I crawled in to find an ancient looking trapdoor. A ladder descended into darkness, and at the bottom, holding flashlights, the two women waited, looking up at me. I swung my feet around and began to climb down. "Close the door behind you. It'll lock automatically", Apricot called up to me in a stage whisper.
When I got to the bottom, Mia handed me a flashlight, and gave me a quick, reassuring smile. I winked at her. She laughed softly and looked away.
We were in a cavernous, arched tunnel, stretching out of sight in either direction. There was no smell of sewer, no sound of subway trains. "Where are we?" I whispered.
"We're safe" said Apricot, and started walking.
"These are part of an extensive network of tunnels that run underneath the city", Mia replied, as we turned to follow. "They were built a long time ago, and used for all kinds of different reasons, by all kinds of different people. Now we use them."
This was not reassuring. I turned my thresholds down, as low as possible. "You and who else?" I asked.
"Just us", Mia replied mildly. "And the witches, Apricot's sisters and brothers. The protection spells avert any other unwanted attention." She was noticeably more relaxed, though her demeanor was more sober than it had been before the incursion of the Wasps.
Apricot looked over her shoulder at me, saying: "You will want your own solitude. Mia tends to relax more than is safe for others when she's down here. You can stay with her of course, you're both adults. But I'd suggest sleeping out of range. Her dream self gets pretty big when given room to grow."
Mia looked over at me, her eyes shining. "Somehow I don't think that'll be a problem".
Apricot stopped in her tracks and stood there, eyeing us both suspiciously, as if we were schoolchildren caught passing notes in class. Then she gasped, her eyes wide with surprise. "Something I don't understand!" she exclaimed. "How wonderful!"
And she turned on her heel and strode off into the dark.
©2018 Bennett Italia
