Colin didn't know much about witches. In fact, the only thing he did know was that there was a witch living in the faraway woods, and that Colin's mother occasionally bought medicine from the witch for her incurable, difficult disease Colin didn't know the name of.
But witches and one medicine among mother's many were not something Colin was really concerned with, and it would have been unfair to fault him for this: he was only 12, at the beginning of his much-awaited adolescence, and his interests revolved more around friends, schools and his own hobbies rather than the strange, magical people in the woods.
Perhaps Colin should have known more. Perhaps he would have seen the warning signs had he understood the situation of his mother better, and the great cost each remedy mother used. Perhaps, had he known what he truly was dealing with, the carefree days of his still blooming youth wouldn't have come to such an abrud change.
On that unfortunate, sad day, the witch was at their house when Colin returned back from school and navigated his way into the kitchen to eat before tackling down his pile of homework. But before he could even start finding the hard, dry pieces of bread and the little butter they had left, Colin heard hushed sounds of an argument coming from mother's room.
Curious as he was, Colin sneaked closer to investigate the matter. In a manner accustomed to sneaking around without bothering his usually pained mother, Colin made his way to the doorway and took a peek through the half-opened door, only to see his mother crying and pleading to the witch.
"I'm sorry, I don't have the money right now! I can pay you next month!"
"You said this two months ago, and where are we now? No money, and yet you're still using my stocks."
"Please, I'm begging you!"
A fear overcame the boy as he listened to all this, covering his mouth with both of his small hands as not to let out a sound.
Would the witch do something bad? Would she stop giving mother her medicine? Would she kill mother?
Colin swallowed painfully, mentally trying to prepare himself to protect his mother if the witch were to try and harm her. He wasn't sure what exactly he could do, however, being only a child; a pitiful, malnourished runt with no strength to speak of. But Colin thought of it as his duty regardless of the outcome: father was there no more, and so Colin was the oldest person of the house right after his mother. And since mother was now in trouble, as the second oldest it was, had to be, Colin's duty to protect her no matter what.
"If you can't give me money, I will take something else from you," the witch then spoke, stretching out her words as if purposefully spiting the woman who couldn't pay her fee.
"T-take whatever you want," Colin's mother breathed. "But we don't have much of value. Some old clocks, perhaps, or books..."
"Oh, I don't care about those," the witch replied nonchalantly, and Colin saw she waved her hand almost absentmindedly. "There is nothing of worth in this house when it comes to objects."
The witch remained in a thoughtful, unsettling silence until she spoke again with an impish smile:
"Your oldest child... How old was he again...?
"Don't you dare!
Colin let out a gasp of horror, and this time he was unable to hide it. Taking a scared step back from the doorway, the floor underneath his feet let out a sad, loud creak and attracted the attention of both women in the next room.
"Well now, looks like he is right there," the witch smiled and walked closer. "I might as well ask the boy himself!"
Every fiber of Colin's being was screaming at him to run away as fast as he just humanly could, but none of his limbs wanted to cooperate with him: they felt cold and numb and absolutely refused to move no matter how he tried. And so the boy found himself merely leaning against the wall, seeking comfort from the sturdiness wooden structure, but to no avail - the witch was already there.
And while she was not an ugly looking woman by any means (rather, she was quite attractive at least in Colin's eyes), her demeanour and cold smile took away all and any positive things the boy would have associated with her. She seemed cruel and terrifying, her extended hand covered in a long, black glove as she reached for Colin's face.
Colin closed his eyes as he felt the long, glove-covered fingernails stroking his face, his body shuddering by instinct. The claw-like fingers then brushed through his almost white hair, and lastly the witch ruffled his hair as if she would have done to a dog or a cat.
"What a sweet boy you have," she finally spoke with a terrifyingly satisfied tone. "Colin, was it? How old are you?"
Colin didn't answer. Instead he kept his eyes tightly shut and his head lowered.
"Colin... Answer her," his mother urged, however, and hearing the pleading tone of her shaky words Colin had no choice but to obey.
"12..."
"Excellent... That's excellent," the woman muttered and kept stroking Colin as if he was her belonging already.
Colin didn't like that, the way she touched and stroked his head, but when he tried to meet his mother's gaze to plead for help, Colin was met with nothing but fear reflected in the woman's eyes.
He understood his mother couldn't help him.
"Then, I will take him with me as a payment," the witch declared and moved her hand away from Colin's. "This boy should cover the cost."
"I-I can't let you do that!" the other woman spoke and tried to pack up more confidence into her words. "Take me instead, but don't touch my children!"
"You?" was the answer, the witch's eyebrows raised as if she had heard a bad joke. "Don't be ridiculous. You're old; you'll die faster than he does, and I need a young mind to teach, and a pair of young hands to work - a child can still be tamed."
"I don't want to come with you!" Colin finally gasped, looking at the woman in front of him in terror, heart pounding his chest like that of a scared rabbit' cornered by a fox.
"Oh, but you will. I'll feed you, clothe you and teach you, and you'll have no say in it!" she replied and laughed.
"My name is Katherine, and I'll make you my servant. "
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