A Sneak Peek Inside Craggle Hill
3
Eartha
I gazed out of my window and down at the village below as people gathered on Appleworth Common with their jack-o’-lanterns for the annual Halloween pumpkin competition. I used to love getting involved with that. Not only because I’d win every year, but the atmosphere was magical. Children chased each other around, laughter and conversation filled the air, and the smell of hot chocolate, warm apple cider and fire clung to the autumn breeze. It was wonderful.
But now when I looked down, I didn’t see, hear or smell any of it. All I saw were wicked people. All I heard was taunting. And all I smelt was the dampness from the soil that surrounded my isolated home. Everything about the village and its people now turned my blood cold with memories of how awful they were to me.
So what if some of the more conventional people disagreed with my more organic approach to healing? It didn’t give them the right to make the entire town turn against me. Finding and making cures from herbs and plants was what I did. It was what my mother did. What my grandmother did. Even as far back as my great, great, great, great grandmother. Helping people was in our blood. So what if we could actually fly on brooms and perform magic? We always kept it to ourselves, so what harm were we doing? I’ll tell you. None.
Hazel jumped up onto the windowsill and head-butted my stomach gently.
“Hey, beautiful girl.” I smiled as I stroked her fluffy black hair. “How are you doing?” She looked up at me and began to purr, her big brown eyes full of love and kindness. I smiled.
My cats, Hazel and Wart, were the only company I had these days. I rarely went down to the village unless I absolutely had to. I ate what I grew in my garden, and I had everything I needed. Occasionally I would run out of the more domestic things that I couldn’t make myself and would resort to taking my broom across the ditch I had dug years ago and down to the local shop.
I hated going down there. I hated scurrying down the roads with my head down, praying no one would see me in case they were horrid towards me. The whole town and everything about it made me anxious, but there was no way I was leaving my house on Craggle Hill. Even if it was surrounded by a village full of nasty, judgemental people, this was my sanctuary. My happy place. My home. I would never leave. I’d never be driven out no matter how wicked they were to me.
“Meow.”
I turned at the noise to see Wart strolling over, ginger hair on one side of his head ruffled from his six-hour slumber.
Wart hadn’t gotten his name because he had a huge boil or looked gross, but because he used to cling to Hazel like a bad smell. And Hazel would tolerate it when they were younger. But as they’d gotten older, Hazel had become somewhat of a moody teenager and wanted nothing to do with him.
I looked down at my ginger companion. “Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about you.” I patted the windowsill. “Up you come.”
He jumped up effortlessly, and I gave him a stroke, much to Hazel’s disapproval. She narrowed her stare towards Wart before turning her back to him, flicking her tail as she did. It was sad that they didn’t get on like they used to, and I hoped that as they grew older they would rekindle their friendship. After all, the three of us only had one another for companionship and love.
