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Rated: E · Fiction · Fantasy · #2064411
Sometimes, the good guys are the ones who have it wrong.
Framed

Marla ran through the streets of her village, no longer feeling at home there. She pumped her legs furiously, her dress dragging along the ground behind her. People glared at her from their porches. They would not be helping her. Not this time. They had covered her up for so long, and she had let them down. She had let everyone down. She stopped near Mrs. Lane's home. Mrs. and Mr. Lane were on their porch. She looked at them pleadingly. With one shake of her head, Mrs. Lane dashed Marla's only chance to escape. Marla refused to believe she was all alone. She couldn't give up. There had to be someone who would help her!

She ran and ran and ran, stopping everywhere she knew to ask someone for help. Everyone she asked simply shook their head, not even talking to her. Because she was a witch. And she had just placed an unbreakable curse on the prince of the kingdom. Marla kept running. If they only knew the truth about her, they would help, but nobody would listen. They knew they would be put to death if they did.

With every step she took, Marla cursed the prince's name. It was all her fault she was alone in the only place she had ever called home. It was all his fault. she had managed to hide her powers for all her fourteen years, and now she would die. Well, they would try to kill her. Nobody would know how to successfully kill a witch, but she would no longer be welcome there. She would have to find a new home. She would be all alone for real, this time.

She ran from house to house, until she saw a faint glow on the horizon. The villagers were coming to burn her. Her comfy life here was over. Everyone within five kingdoms would know she was a witch. She would have to travel so far, and just to find a place she might be welcome. Marla felt like crying, but she had to stay calm. She needed to, to even have a chance at escaping without having to be burned first.

She wasn't a bad person! They didn't even know the whole story! How come someone had seen her turn the prince into a hideous beast, but not seen him trying to poison his father? Marla felt a bit better picturing the look on the prince's face when he looked down and saw that he had fuzzy brown hair growing all over him. He had immediately dropped the vial of poison and spilled his father's goblet. At least the king was safe, Marla thought. At least something good had come out of this whole night.

Marla stopped running. The people outside their houses glared at her. Marla sighed. There was no escaping. On the horizon, she could see the torches burning, closing in from every direction. Marla looked down at her torn, ragged dress. It had been so beautiful, but it was ruined now. Just like everything else she had. Her house had probably already been burned down, she figured. It wasn't such a bad thing. Half of her belonging had been buried in the forest for many years. She had foreseen this day; the day she would be discovered as a witch.

She could see them now; the villagers. Their torches were raised in front of them like shields, and they already had a stake. She looked at it all with a smile on her face. Something about it was so funny. She could try telling them the truth, but they wouldn't listen. She knew they wouldn't. It was all alright, though.

Even if nobody else knew it, she had saved the King's life. She would die knowing she had done the right thing. She quickly raised her hand and placed a fireproof curse on her. She would have to practice her cries of pain, just to please the villagers. As they closed in, she could only laugh. This probably made her look even more wicked, but she couldn't help it.

They were all mistaken.

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