It was December 4th when her body was found. Contorted into a position that would seem impossible to anyone who wasn't a master of yoga. A tangled mess which resembled a destroyed spider’s web. The expression on her face could not be instantly seen by those who found her. The blood had to be washed away before it could be seen. After that, her expression could only be described as "confused and hurt".
She was found in this condition above a huge concrete dam overlooking a huge clear river. Her tangled mess of a body lay on the concrete surrounded in snow with a small pool of blood that flowed from the gash on her head where it had collided with the ground. While this could easily be mistaken for the cause of her death, it was clear from the autopsy that she had been strangled. Her neck was grabbed and thumbs pushed against her oesophagus.
The girl was a twenty three year old witch. She manipulated the physical world by manipulating her perception of the physical world. Another way to put it is that she would create her own world inside her head. Yet another way to put this is insanity. Nevertheless she practised this every day. She gave herself the label of "witch", despite the idea of a hag on a broomstick, so that she would not be labelled with the more correct name of magician. She preferred the hag on the broomstick to the man pulling doves from the sleeves of his tuxedo.
Being a very awkward and shy, child and teenager she had very few friends by this point in her life. Despite having more friends than she ever thought she would in her younger days, she remained a recluse. Rarely seen and rarely heard. She never spoke about her family or upbringing. She was a borderline mute, walking mystery. Now a tangled mess of limbs on the cold, hard, concrete ground.
She was found at six o'clock in the morning by a young couple, only twenty five years old. And their daughter, only five years old. As well as their six year old beagle called Poppet. But theirs is a story all their own, this is a story about a twenty three year old reclusive dead girl.
Being such a shy girl in her youth she honed her skills on escaping bleak, upsetting world around her. She did this by exploring the realms of sheer fantasy that existed within her own imagination. This is where, she believed, her true friends were. The wonderful characters she imagined were far greater than anyone around her. Whether these be the people she met, saw on television or read in her piles of books.
Amongst her friends she created a character she called Marsletarp. This character held the place of her very best friend. He was eight feet tall, a long skeleton-like figure, dressed as a Victorian gentleman complete with top hat, tails and a long cane he carried everywhere he went. He had no face. Just a warm, glowing white light. The girl hated people’s faces. She only knew faces to express anger and disgust and hatred and disappointment. Nobody bothered to tell her about the good expressions. So she gave her best friend a warm, glowing white light instead of a face. This could never express these emotions she loathed.
He also had a deep, loud booming voice. The girl preferred this type of voice. It was far more unthreatening then shrill voices. People screamed with shrill voices. He was a simple character. Despite these characteristics he didn't seem to have any real personality. He was simply someone. Someone perfect who stopped her feeling alone in this huge scary world. His voice would make her calm in moments of anxiety and stress and he was always there. Just what she needed. A little girls best friend.
It was because of her characters, but mainly Marsletarp that she began to study magic. She wanted her creations to be realized in the physical world her body lived in, but mind left long ago. So she began to study at the age of seventeen. She absorbed every book, lecture, DVD and Youtube video she could find on the subject. It consumed her life for six whole years. Adding of course to her unintended public persona of a weirdo, but not deterring her from her goal. Partially because she had stopped caring years previous what people thought of her and partially because, being so wrapped up in her studies of magic that she failed to notice the people around her.
While her imaginary friends kept her company during this time, it's fair to say they fell slightly to the wayside. Which is ironic as the entire endeavour was taken on to bring them closer together. The girl knew of this but she figured it would pay off once she could perform magic. The imaginary friends, however, didn't see it her way. She had created them before the idea of magic had even occurred to her, they felt what she felt when they were created. So they began to feel abandoned and not really knowing why. She had left them to pursue this new goal of hers and they were neither loved nor needed anymore.
This sense of abandonment grew and grew and rage grew and grew. Though the girl would never know, they would never let her know. They were created to bring her happiness, not anger. Feeling the brunt of this emotion, of course, was Marsletarp. He had once been the most exhalted amongst these characters, he now felt as though he was a lowly peasant. Feeling left and forgotted by the little girl who created and loved him. He no longer loved her. The rage had grown over time and erased the feeling of love. He felt only resentment to his "best friend". Though he hadn't seen a friend in her for years. The few moments he was called by her he would hide his anger. It was lucky for him he was never given a face.
After six years of seemingly endless study, the girl finally decided that her levels of skill and knowledge were high enough to attempt the ritual she needed. This ritual, she read, needed to be performed near any small body of water. She didn't know how small this body of water had to be, so she opted for the lake. Even if it was overkill she found this particular spot to be rather beatiful, possibly due to the lack of people at 2 o'clock in the morning. A beautiful place for a beautiful moment, the moment she finally meets her best friend.
The ritual created a dark doorway which crossed the gap between the imaginary world and the world where humans lived. She could barely contain her excitement when the black vortex revealed itself in front of her. From the black circle she saw one thing. A glowing white light. The light that constituted as a face for her imaginary best friend soon to cross into the "real" world. He reached his long black leg through the doorway, his foot made a tap as it hit the concrete on the other side. He was really there. The rest of his eight foot skeletor frame emerged itself from the doorway. He replaced his hat.
As soon as he was out, the imaginary character stormed towards the girl. His long legs gave him remarkable speed as he bounded towards her. The girl looked in glee as he came towards her, arms outstretched. Glee turned to horror as she noticed the arms were too close together for a hug and the fingers were also outstretched and aimed at her neck. She was a quick girl. But not quick enough. His long, white slender fingers wrapped around her neck and his thumbs pressed against her oesophagus. No matter how much she twisted and scratched and attempted to scream, she couldn’t escape his grasp. He saw the life leave her eyes and threw her to the floor, cracking her skull open on the concrete. The last thing she saw was the blinding white light.
It was December 4th when she was found. Her body was contorted in a most peculiar fashion. Her head was covered in blood and her legs were twisted and her hands were wrapped around her neck.
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