Ritual

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night a candle burned in the window. Anne set her rosary down on the table and took a deep breath. She looked at her face in the reflection of an old dusty mirror. Even with the minimal lighting she could still see the lines below her eyes, the deep creases around the corners of her mouth. The candle flickered as she saw flashes of her face as a child in front of the same mirror. Her little terrified eyes, her hands clasped in prayer, her mother kneeling beside her, the rosaries between both their hands.

For 39 years it had been a secret from her father, friends, for eight from her husband. An odd secret to keep and a difficult one at that. Anna picked up her rosary, her eyes fixed on the black candle, but halfway through she ran out of breath. She stood up and walked to the other side of the room, she leaned against the wall and slowly slid down till she was seated firmly on the ground, her hands rubbing her protruding belly.

Was she gonna raise her child to do this? was she gonna walk her out here in the middle of the night? Was she gonna explain that a few hundred years ago an ancestor of theirs got his mistress pregnant, that rather than take accountability he accused of her being a witch and for this she was burned alive. That while at the stake she cursed their entire bloodline and now once a year they had to light a black candle and pray the curse away. For fucks sake she’s a math teacher. Anne stood up and walked back across the room, she leaned over the candle and once more looked herself in the mirror, “fuck it” she whispered.

“Where the hell you been” Anne almost fell over surprised as she had tried to creep quietly back into the house. The kitchen light was on and Tom was staring at her from across the room, wide-eyed and furrowed brow. “It’s two in the morning Anne, where the hell have you been?”

“I just went for a walk” Anne stammered, clearing her throat and hanging her coat up.

“For two hours, you’ve been gone for two hours Anne!”

“I didn’t realize it’d been that long, I got a little lost back there, the baby wouldn’t stop kicking so I thought maybe a walk would help.” she explained as she dragged her tired body up the stairs to their bedroom. Tom followed angrily behind her,

“You’re gonna be a mother Anne, you can’t be doing irresponsible shit like this anymore”

“Oh tom, you get too worked up” Anne sighed as she clicked on the nightlight and began to undress. Anne couldn’t help but roll her eyes as she watched his reflection pacing back and forth behind her. A strange feeling came over Annes face then, she placed her fingers on her cheeks and took a deep breath.

“Oh what, now you’re annoyed me with Anne, you take off 5 months pregnant in the middle of the night and I’m not supposed to be upset, oh well it’s just Anne being Anne. “For fucks sake the whole point of moving out here was to try to live some kind of a normal life.”

Anne spun around, “I never wanted to move here Tom” she growled. Tom looked at her suspiciously as she turned back around and struggled to clear her throat.

“Jesus Anne you sound like, like I don’t even know, where did that even come from?”

Anne placed her hands on the dresser and continued trying to clear her throat. The lights in the house flickered a bit then before going out. Anne looked back up in the mirror. Her fingers traced the edges of her cheekbones, the shadows seem to be clinging to her cheeks making her face look sunken and her skin looked gray. Anne turned around to face Tom, and as she turned she watched him fall backward, “what the fuck is wrong with your face, you look like a stranger.”

“No I don’t” Anne quickly retorted, it’s just the shadows, but she couldn’t help but stare at herself in the mirror, transfixed by her own reflection.

“Jesus Anne, I don’t know even know what’s with you anymore.” Anne felt a strong pressure building around her head, and her eyes couldn’t help but dart around as some of the shadows in the room seemed to be moving around her now. Her eyes widened as she watched the shadows moving, dancing before gathering into one shadow and rushing into the mirror. Anne hesitated before raising her head, that was not her looking back. The color had completely left her eyes, they looked black and hollow, her lips had thinned, and all the subtle lines and wrinkles had sunken into deep caverns, till she looked 60. Anne slowly turned around to face Tom and watched as a look of shock and horror took over his face.

“Anne, who are you, where’s Anne?”

“Tom it’s me” she quivered

“No, what have you done with my wife?” Tom screamed now, lunging across the room and wrapping his fist around her throat. “Who are you and what did you do with my wife” he screamed.

“Annes’ head fell back then and a maniacal laugh ellipsed from her lips. “ I ate her” she growled. She shoved Tom back and sent him falling back onto the floor. Tom ran out of the room and a door could be heard opening and slamming followed by the loading of a gun. He re-entered the room with a shotgun drawn.”Where is my wife?”

“She’s burning Tom, Burning in hell” The beast growled. Tom leaned back as this beast crept closer and closer slowly pulling back on the trigger.

A squawk from a crow snapped Anne back into consciousness. Her head resting on the table, the candle had managed to fizzle out. Anne quickly reached into her pockets and pulled out her book of matches and relit it. She once more began feverishly reciting the rosary. She watched as strange shadows were moving all over the cabin. In all these years she had never let that happen. It’s funny how quickly superstitions and rituals seem silly, till the light goes out.

Anne left the cabin, it was nearly Sun up by the time she got back to the house. As she quietly entered she couldn’t help but wonder how she would explain this to Tom. Hopefully, he’d be sleeping. Maybe she could just tell him the truth. As Anne walked into the room, she was hit with the subtle scent of sulphur. The bed was empty and she could see Tom’s foot on the other side of the ground, he was passed out with a shotgun in one hand and a dead crow in the other. Maybe she’d tell him about the cabin and the witch another day.