Could it have been Maura? Possibly, there was a familiarity, something vaguely recognizable beneath the skin-crawling tones, but it was just a hint of someone – or something - she might have known. Maybe in another life. But now what she heard was the aural embodiment of hatred, and that hatred was directed at her.
Buy why? What had she ever done to spark such strong emotions? Until tonight, Donatella had only whispered through life, barely being noticed by anyone except Maura, and being just fine with that. Because she hadn’t ever felt like she needed to be noticed by anyone else until tonight. Before this one special night, having her one true friend was all she ever needed. So if this was some perversion of her beloved Maura…
It's time, Little Girl.
Maura?
Something pulsed in the silence, like a muffled heartbeat. An affirmation.
Maura, please. I’m scared. What is this? Why is this? I don’t…
Shhhhhh.
Maura…
You’re all grown up now, Little Girl. I didn’t want to see it, but I do now. I thought you and me forever, but that was silly. Since when has anyone ever granted a wish to a witch?
But can’t we leave whatever this is and…
This is ME, Little Girl. This darkness is ME. I thought you should know who your Maura really is before I’m gone. You didn’t like when I let people see the costume of my flesh, when I tried to become more like you, so maybe it’s better you remember me as I am. As all witches are. We are the sisters of darkness between the light. I saw something in you, Donatella. I thought the time would come when you could join me completely. Could join us. I loved you, Donnie. But love is the one thing that can kill a witch quicker than any other. I always knew that, but I wasn’t willing to accept it.
But you’re my only friend. What am I supposed to do without…how am I supposed to survive? Where am I supposed to go?
Slowly the suffocating darkness began to fade and break apart like clouds abandoning a storm, revealing the scattered details of the home Donatella had thought she was returning to. The home Maura had made for them both. Only now it was just Donatella, warm tears streaming down her face as she crumpled to the floor and began to sob.
“Where am I supposed to go?”
The truth and Marcellus
Her voice was no longer raping the insides of my skull, but having this thing toy with me using Mom’s voice was far worse. I resisted the urge to lunge at the swirling mass of flesh and fluid because I figured that’s what she wanted. Also, because I could hear the memory of my real mother’s voice warning me against making a decision that could get me killed – or worse. I had never considered the possibility that there could be much of anything worse than death, but as I experienced this surreal scenario taking place during what was supposed to be my lunch break, it occurred to me that death might be far preferable to whatever kind of eternal pain this thing might have the power to inflict.
“Yeah. Just look at me,” I said sarcastically. “Who could ask for anything more than where I am right now?
“You could, Marcellus. That’s who. You could ask for anything you want, dear heart.”
I was standing there inside that huge, breathing bubble she had wrapped around us both, where I could watch the lunchtime crowd walking back and forth on the other side. It was like looking through a funhouse mirror as their shapes morphed in and out of various configurations, and none of them even noticed either me or this…thing… that was only a few feet away.
And that’s when I knew.
“It was you who killed my mother, wasn’t it?”
For the first time during our encounter, for the briefest moment, the witch looked uncertain, as if she expected something to happen. Maybe she expected me to lunge at her. But even if I had the power to kill her, which I knew I didn’t, it wasn’t her death that would give me what I needed at that moment.
“You said I could ask for anything I want, right?”
The witch just stared, I could tell already regretting her offer.
“So I’m guessing you already know forgiveness is off the table. What I do want is an answer; why did you wait so long? Why did you wait until she had a life? Until she had me? Why did you have to wait until you could hurt us both? Did you really hate my mother so much?”
The witch shook her head.
“If I had hated your mother then I never would have left, Dear Heart. I left because I loved her, and that’s also why I came back. I came back because the love I had for your mother wouldn’t die. And so I thought….”
“But why did you kill her?”
Slowly, painfully, that wretched thing who had first presented itself to me as a homeless woman stretched, pulled and contorted bone and muscle until a slightly built nothing-like-a-homeless-woman with skin the color of dark chocolate was standing there looking at me with this expression that couldn’t seem to make up its mind between hostility or fear. She wore a loose-fitting autumn-colored gown with wide sleeves that draped to the ground, and she had this short silvery afro that seemed to float on top of her scalp, the way seaweeds wave underwater.
“Your mother loved me,” she said.
“Maybe so. But then that makes me want to know even more why you would want to kill her.”
I could tell she was weighing whether or not to answer me, or maybe she was deciding whether to tell me the truth. And then…
“I killed your mother because I couldn’t forget her.”
That’s when I smiled, which confused the witch.
“You know what my mother always told me?”
She shook her head.
“No.”
“My mother always told me that the dead stay with you longer than the living. And now I know what it is I want. That is, if you’re a witch of your word.”
“And what is that?” she asked, trying to hide the nervousness in her voice.
“Kill me.”
TUNE IN NEXT WEEK FOR THE BEGINNING OF AN ALL-NEW AFROFANTASY DETROIT STORY!
Well, that was pretty weird. I'm pretty sure you're not copying anybody. Keep going.