Last Friday was the launch of Brighton University Literature Society’s annual creative writing anthology. Entitled ‘Small Worlds’, and featuring fantastic submissions from students across the region, the anthology shows a diverse and imaginative range of poetry and prose, and is a testament to all involved. The launch gave us the opportunity to hear some of the authors read their own work, and indulge in a few celebratory drinks. The winner Ruby Speed’s brilliant short story ‘The Witch’, is published below.
The Witch
By Ruby Speed
There exists, somewhere, an island with no name which from above seems like an emerald shining a luminous green into the sea-sky. No humans live there, but the jungled forest is full of Witches. The rubber trees on the island live a thousand years, translucent-purple caterpillars as fat as a baby’s arm crawl over moss-covered rocks and tiny deadly flies flicker between pools of white light. Under the vast, dense camouflaged leaves, the forest air is suffocatingly hot and sweat-inducing; you can lose your breath there and never find it again. Deep in the heart of the forest corpse flowers hide intricate, colourful and delicious mushrooms for the Witches to eat, but no humans have ever tasted them. They are horrified by the flowers’ stench of decaying flesh and most flee in horror back to their ships, although it is only a very small number who have ever made it so far into the jungle. Humans are such frightened and stupid little creatures; not many of them have even gazed upon the island. Those who have, return home not with a Witch’s head on a stick, nor stolen exotic spices or fruits, nor impossibly beautiful but silent wives, as they vowed they would, but only with stories and warnings from ‘Witch Island’ and less men than they started their voyages with. The children of the adventurers listen wide eyed, and some won’t sleep for weeks.
Do not think that the Witches are evil, they are not. They did not choose to be Witches any more than you chose to be human, and Witches are the only things they know how to be. And just as the adventurers tell their sons stories to warn them of Witches, the Witches tell their daughters stories to warn them of humans. Both humans and Witches fear the other more than anything, but for very different reasons. Adventurers’ children are afraid of the Witches’ supernatural powers, their sharp teeth and wits. But there are legends which say that if a human boy can make a Witch fall in love with him, she will be transformed from a Witch into a beautiful doll-bride, and that is what all the little Witches were terrified of.
There was one little Witch on the island who had power over all natural things; from conjuring tiny flowers to controlling the forest’s oldest trees and fiercest beasts. Her name was Novi, and her mother was the chief Elder Witch. She was the most beloved and cherished child on the island; a little Witch Princess. On the day of her birth, the other Elder Witches showered the child with gifts; animals to eat with her tiny pointed teeth, a crown made from twisted twigs and the blood of a sacrificed beast which she was to drink. She lived a perfect life, until one day when Novi was little more than a child, and she walked by herself in the heart of the forest. She often wandered alone around the Island, but was forbidden to venture into the centre of the jungle, as her mother warned her:
“If a human finds you in the deepest depths of the forest, they will try to kill you and no one will hear your calls through the trees.”
But Novi was forgetful and distracted; a happy and brave young Witch who often disobeyed her mother’s many rules. Novi played with the pond of water in the very centre of the island, forging little moving figures from the water then watching them melt back into
the turquoise pool. A bird cried in the distance. The sun burned her neck.
And she heard a sound. It did not sound like any bird or insect or creature she had heard before. She paused, with small plants growing silently around her feet. She waited, hunched over, like a tiger waiting to pounce. Nothing happened. She threw a rock into the bushes nearby, and then heard a voice, unlike any she’d heard before.
The voice spoke in a similar language to her, but it spoke in simplistic sentences. She knew it to be the voice of a human invader.
“I…mean…no…harm,” said the voice in a slow, stupid way. “You…” said the human coming out from his hiding place and pointing at Novi, “are very…beautiful…Understand? Beautiful?”
Novi stood still where she was, she knew humans were cunning and evil, and knew this boy was pretending to be stupid. She said nothing and frowned at him.
“You,” he said pointing again, “do amazing things…with the water…very clever tricks”
“Thank you,” she replied reluctantly, “but it’s not actually a trick.”
“Will you show me?” he moved closer “Can you do it again?”
“Of course I can,” Novi retorted, “but you must stay over there where you are.”
The human boy seemed to understand as he stood still, waiting.
Novi regarded him for a moment then continued her water-conjuring. Whilst she did this the boy thought to himself: “What a beautiful and strange girl- I will make her my wife.” Novi had her back turned to the boy now, and concentrated on her little liquid sculptures. The boy approached her silently and took a ring with a tiny red diamond out of his pocket. He had heard the stories too, about Witches turning into good brides, and his father had given him this ring and claimed it would melt any Witch’s heart and make her fall in love. Before Novi could push him away, the boy grabbed her hand and stuck the ring onto her finger. Novi screamed as she saw the ring on her finger, and felt herself start to transform. She felt her skin melt away, and was sure she was becoming a speechless doll-bride. But she looked down at her hands, now covered with thick brown fur. She growled. The boy shrieked and looked up at the bear which now towered above him. She ate him in one mouthful.
Rapturous applause (and wine)
Ruby Speed and runner up with a copy of the anthology