Absence makes the heart grow fonder
It had been long enough. To darn long.
I had to get it back.
Reaching into my dark closet, I searched blindly for my cloak. Even in the darkness, my hand immediately buzzed in recognition the moment they touched the surface of the fabric. It was soft and smooth against my fingers. Pulling it out, I shrugged it on my lean body.
Pulling the hood over my head, I let its inky darkness and warmth envelope me. It was strangely comforting. I stepped into the cool night, thankful for the long sleeves of the cloak. It kept a portion of the biting air out. Rubbing my hands together, I trudged forward.
My boot-clad feet were firm and loud against the tarmac of the silent and deserted road. Silence surrounded me, enveloping every part of my body. It was a companionable silence, despite the occasional hooting of owls, crickets chirping and silhouettes of bats flying around the moon-lit sky. The eerie ambiance didn’t bother me at all.
Soon enough, the house came into view. I stopped before it, taking in the huge door, dark windows and cemented walls of the small building before me. Without thinking further, I ascended the stairs, ignoring how they creaked in protest under my weight.
Raising my hand, I poked my knuckles out. Before I could have the pleasure of impacting the wood with my fist, the door flew open and a short stout figure came into view.
“You!” She pointed accusatorily.
“Yes, me,” I replied dryly, folding my arms across my chest.
“What are you doing here?” The Witch of the Dark asked, leaning against the doorframe laxly. Her robe-clad figure was completely shrouded by the darkness. Only her face was visible. She mimicked me, crossing her own stubby arms, lifting her chin to stare defiantly at me, matching my intensity.
“I want it back,” I said seriously.
The Witch laughed humorlessly, clutching her stomach for good measure. “You’re joking,”
My face twisted in a tight grimace, silently asking her if this face was one of a joker. I pulled my brows together, furrowing them. “Do you think I will come all this way just to joke?”
Standing erect, she rubbed her chin thoughtfully. Frowning fiercely, her eyes raked up and down my body indecisively. Dark eyes drilled into me, black lips turned upside down. Clearly, she was not pleased. “No. But what makes you think I shall just give it to you? We had a deal.” She reminded me, jabbing a finger forward towards my chest, “A deal!”
Oh.
She had to go ahead and remind me of my mistake. How could I forget the deal I made with the witch? Everyone knew it is never a good idea to make a deal with a witch, especially with this one. But unfortunately, I did not have a choice. I had to do it to save my father’s life. He had suffered from an incurable genetic disease. The Witch of the Dark had accepted to save him in exchange for something very valuable to me.
My heart.
And I wanted to get it back.
“I know.”
She opened the door further, but not letting me enter inside. That was fine though. I did not want to step my feet inside that dark abyss disguised as a home. It was a little too late at night to encounter a horde of bony skeletons or see blood-painted walls. It was safer for my sanity to stay out here. No matter how dark the night is, her house shall always be a thousand times darker.
“Please,” I resorted to begging. I could not battle her for it. She was one of the most powerful creatures I have ever met. Pleading was my only hope. I was not sure if it will help but I had to at least try. “I beg of you,” my voice sounded as desperate as I felt. “Just one day. Give me my heart for just one day. I miss the feeling of a throbbing thing against my chest.”
“Why the sudden interest?” she cocked here head to the side, her face a mask of interest. Like I said, a mask. I was certain she cared about it as much as she cared about dead bodies—not a single bit.
I sighed, deciding to explain. “Zack. My boyfriend. He delivers the most beautiful kisses. When he does, I can feel his heart beating against my chest. I only wish he can feel my own pulsing heart. Please, just for one day. I want him to place his hand against my chest and feel how fast it is racing for him,”
By the time I was done with that spiel, the witch looked positively nauseated, as if I have said the most disgusting thing ever. Apparently, hearing about a girl drone on and on about her romantic interest and kisses was not a thing of beauty for her. Ah, she preferred hearing stories of children being killed and souls getting devoured. Point to note.
Her nostrils wrinkled. Turning her head away, she stared into the distance. “No. I won’t. I am already in use of the heart,”
“Please. Can’t I have it for one day? I shall return it tomorrow.”
“Why should I give it? What do I get in return?”
Of course! She always wants something in return. There’s always a catch.
The witch continued. “I just want collateral in case you fail to return it.”
I frowned. “What do you want?”
“An ear.”
I sighed dramatically. For the next second, I pondered on the matter. It did not need to ponder for long. It was worth it. “I accept,”
A smile crept on her ugly face. “If you insist,” She reached behind. Out of nowhere, a knife appeared in her wrinkly hand. She brought it towards her chest. I watched unflinchingly. I watched as she slashed the knife fiercely against her chest. I watched as the area tore open without any resistance. I watched as black blood poured out of the spot. So black, one would think it was tar.
All I could do was watch silently.
She brought the inch-long claws of her hand to the bleeding cavity. Delving her hand inside, she tugged. Once. Twice. Then her hand returned from the hole in her chest, holding the delicate blood-covered organ in her hand.
My heart.
Oh, it felt good to see it after so long. Though it looked darker and most likely corrupted by her abject evilness, I didn’t care. It sat there, pulsing in her hands. Blood dripped endlessly from it, coating her fingers, disappearing into her sleeve and some on it hit the dirty threshold.
I heard the barks coming from inside the house. Soon enough, a dog forced its head through its master’s legs, coming out into the open. It was a little chihuahua, sniffing relentlessly. Ignoring me, the canine found the object of its interest. Its tongue darted out, licking the blood covering the floor, growling at intervals in appreciation.
It didn't take a lot to keep my composure and stay relaxed. I’ve seen much worse, believe me.
“Are you sure?” she asked for confirmation.
“Yes,”
“Ah!” I screamed in a mixture of pain and surprise when the knife slashed my own chest. It hurt. It hurt like hell to have you skin cut mercilessly. It was brutal and raw and I felt tears prick the corner of my eyes.
The witch laughed, her warped mind finding pleasure in my suffering. Without further ado, she thrust the heart into my chest. The organ sunk in, taking its rightful place.
The moment of pain was dampened by the relief of feeling my beating heart in my chest once more. I placed my hand against it, trying to make sure it is really there, to feel it. It was beautiful to feel it throbbing against my hurting rib cage. I was revitalized. The relentless aching did not register anymore. Even when she slashed my ear off to keep it, I was too busy getting used to my heart to cry out at the excruciating pain.
With my hand against my chest, I breathed. How I had missed it. Having it gave me a newly-found semblance of humanity. Contented, I smiled and turned around to leave.
“Remember to bring it back,” The Witch of the Dark yelled from behind me.
I turned, seeing the trail of my blood following me, dripping from my wounds. I caught view of the witch’s gratification as she played with my severed ear. I only hope she doesn’t end up feeding it to her dog or the monster she has under her bed.
“Yes, I will.” I whispered. “Mother,” I added as an afterthought.
***
**Title: Absense makes the heart grow fonder.
**Genre: Paranormal.
**Age range: 13 and upwards.
**Word count: 1750 words.
**Author name: Enjeck Cleopatra.
**Why my project is a good fit: In my opinion, it is well written and creative. These are a few of the prerequisies of a good story.
**The hook: To save her father's life, a girl decides to give away her heart. What happens when she goes to get it back?
**Synopsis: Linda had exchanged her heart to a vile witch in order to save her father's life. It had seemed like a good idea at that time. There comes a point in time where she needs it back. of course, the witch won't give it back easily.
**Target audience: Teens and adults.
**My bio: Enjeck Cleopatra is a student residing in a rural area in Bamenda, Cameroon. When she isn't writing, she can be found immersed in several scientific principles. Find her work on Wattpad and prose. One of her pieces is due for publishing on Grey Wolfe Publishing.
**Platform: the online community.
**Education: Currently in high school.
**Experience: My piece 'Talking books' was a winner in a writing contest by Grey Wolfe Publishing and is due for press soon.
** Personality / writing style: I prefer sentence fluency over grammar. I would rather include lots of discussion instead of description.
**Likes/hobbies: Soccer, writing, reading, tinkering, science.
**Hometown: Bamenda.