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In all her splendor, inciting terror, the Grand High Witch embodied eternality and personified darkness. Absolutely nothing can destroy her.
But that, you learned it too late.
Above all, you did not receive any warning during your childhood. No story to spread terror in your dreams, no nightmare to prepare you for eventual outbreaks. No instructions to warn you of the bewitching of witches nor the supposedly harmless traps.
How could have doubted that witches were prowling around you? You were young, it was impossible for you to notice the bodily signs, so obvious if you'd receive the training to recognize them. The tips of square feet; overdeveloped sense of smell; the violet and shining look; self-confidence in each movement; itchy scalp.
But above all, how could one imagine that the most abominable witch had her eye on you? That she dissected your slightest movements, that she memorized your comings and goings as well as your preferences?
At first, you only glimpsed at Miss Eva Ersnt and her severe hair, her preference for mauve and black. The most striking thing, besides her icy silence, was her piercing gaze. Sometimes, when you think about it with all your strength, you think you can recognize, through her cavernous gaze, the monstrous repulsiveness beneath her body envelope.
The Supreme Witch loved to watch you from a distance with that deep look you never managed to forget. This strange woman you met on the way to school, you crossed path with again when returning home. You recognized her silhouette instantly, sitting on a park bench, in an alley in front of the fresh vegetable counter at the market, in the large library lobby, at the corner of the busy streets.
It haunted your movements and your thoughts, like the inevitable shadow behind your own silhouette, like the murmur of the wind between the leaves.
Just as you can still do today, you could easily remember the slightest physical details of this woman, as your paths crossed frequently, daily, assiduously.
Sometimes, the strange woman offered you a smile. Her perfectly sculpted and divinely red colored lips moved for you, possibly to make you smile back, or to intimidate you. Clumsily, ashamed, you did smile back, so she managed to make you do both.
Why Miss Eva Ersnt preferred you to all the other girls? Why did she spared you when her soldiers chased you? Again, you discovered the reason too late.
A pack of several hysterical women grabbed you, each member, to take you away. You've heard them mantra about paintings, frames, eternity, magic. You did not cry. Instead, you struggled with a vigor you hardly knew you possessed! Hits, spits, insults. During this tragic event, you sowed amazement among the witches. And that's where your mysterious woman showed up, at a distance, and she shouted a command that made your ribcage vibrate. Never before had you heard her voice - a scream - and you had to get kidnapped for her to finally open her mouth. In unison, immediately, the witches gave up their hold on you, you were released.
She protected you against these women. At first, you believed in her kindness and her protection. It was only years later, in the most difficult years of your adolescence, that you realized that Miss Eva Ersnt had ordered this kidnapping attempt to test your reflexes. The Grand High Witch wanted to see if her instincts were truthful, if she'd seen right, understood your nature. About your temerity and your resourcefulness, she was not mistaken.
Even today, you are brave, resourceful, intelligent, cunning and marginal.
Since that time when she miraculously rescued you from the clutches of these hysterical women, you fell in awe with Miss Eva Ersnt, who had meticulously engineered this slow possession of your being and this subtle custody of your spirit. She wanted you, Helga Eveshim, and had prepared everything for you to feel unconsciously indebted to her.
It was no longer a question of just watching you cross the street or watching you play in the park. Oh no, after the kidnapping, she wrapped you in her mauve raincoat to protect you from the rain. She was raising you up so that you would not walk in puddles. She walked by your side and her breath warmed your cold cheeks. She whispered secrets, encouragements, and complimented your qualities. Sometimes, she'd even put you in a certain emotional state, even trances, to test your reflexes. You never understood, but you liked her satisfied look so desperately. The violet of her eyes deepened, sometimes you were persuaded to see sparks. You loved how her cheeks presented wrinkles and folds, uncommonly, when her beautiful red mouth formed the lines of a smile. You have always loved her defined outline inclined towards you, with the moon behind her, high in the sky, hallowing the contours of her body.
Her great figure and the mystery she embodied pleased you, you did not want to deepen your research to get to know her. You loved her as she was, vaporous, elusive. It was not you who decided when you could see her, it was she who determined the frequency of your interactions. Of all the marvelous qualities you possessed, you did not have the foresight to see her ability to tame and manipulate you.
You wanted to impress her and be rewarded with her approval, before the big unveiling, before this terrible "accident" where you lost a finger.
You did not know that the Grand High Witch saw in you an incomparable utility. You were chosen. Miss Eva Ersnt relied on your strength of character, on your intelligence and on the ambivalence of your soul to take over witchcraft. She designate you for the succession of infernal powers incumbent upon the Grand High Witch. At a very young age, she had to start your training.
When you finally discovered her true identity, when you uncovered the horrifying creature hidden beneath her flawless skin, you almost succumbed to her invitation to join her on the throne as a heiress. Again, the Supreme Witch was right: the ambiguity of your soul. She unveiled, before your innocent eyes, both her disgusting form, both her diabolical intentions. For a short while, the Grand High Witch was fully convinced that you were going to accompany her in the darkness. She felt a consent at the tip of your tongue. During a short second, you, too, were convinced of this... Energy, power, control, supernatural faculties. You were spellbound, and above all, you wanted her to admire you. Until you really understood the issues, the responsibilities. Cruelty, monstrosity, loneliness, torment. You saw the ugliness of her soul. The hideousness of her appearance concealed under the features of a distinguished human being scarcely frightened you. You have never been afraid of physiognomies. It was the lack of ethics and the torment of such an commitment that scared you.
You refused. It was not a negation of a young child. You expressed a categorical rejection formulated in the words of the prospective adult you were going to become. The Supreme Witch understood all this. With a bitterness of greenish colors, she recognized the tenacity of your refusal and the maturity of your decision.
You have almost tasted the rage flowing her whole body. This resolution to choose you, this desire to educate you, the toil to seduce you: all this effort abandoned and fruitless. In the fury of her humiliation, colossal tremors seized her skeleton. And there, you finally saw the unfathomable horror that you had apprehended: the atrocity and the total absence of light.
A thick black cloud rose around you, you were blinded. Your ears could only catch the furious roars of her throat: cries of frustration, despairing complaints. For the first time, you wanted to cry.
You broke the heart she did not have.
Then, the excruciating pain. Your "very unpleasant" accident. She sliced off your finger, and then evaporated in thick fog of ash.
Did she dematerialize under the weight of disappointment? Did she slice your finger under out of impulse?
The pain you felt was concentrated in your heart, because you had one, and your heart was crying the outcome of your relationship. It had been used to beating, pumping your blood and devoting a vital place for Miss Eva Ersnt, who angrily vanished with one of your fingers.
You have long doubted she sliced that finger so she could identify you as you grew older, transformed into a woman, no longer be a child. You never crossed her hooded figure again. You even thought she had died as a result of your refusal to succeed to her powers. You thought you were responsible for the death of the Grand High Witch.
For so many years, you've been trying to rebuild Miss Eva Ersnt in your mind. What you accurately fear are the reasons why you still want to restore the memory of this woman. You do not dare to ask yourself the question. Without resistance, you simply let reminiscence up to the surface. Like that piercing look that never left you.
Fifty years later, you properly instructed your grandson. He is prepared to defend himself against witches. You took care of explaining that there is one superior to others, the Supreme, if she is still alive. You do not dare to confess your past, you are too mortified about it. Ashamed of which aspect, specifically? Do not ask yourself the question, avoid the subject.
Do you recognize the light of hope in your heart? Be honest with yourself. And if by preparing Luke for the possible appearance of the Grand High Witch, you also grace yourself to see her again? As if evoking her name could cause the Supreme Witch to materialize in front of you? This tenacity that she appreciated in you has never diminished, does that mean that Miss Eva Ersnt will manifest with her typical smile on the lips? Or rather, will she express an animosity, ready to face a second rejection? Will she still try to seduce you, to cut off another finger?
If you were the chosen one, but survived the refusal, perhaps you will have to prepare to face the Witch in a fateful assault?
Oh, nothing has changed, not even after fifty years separating you from the present and this traumatizing period of your childhood. In the tea room of this great English hotel, your unconscious recognizes her being, sitting at a remote table, distant from other people, shadowed. Instantly, you feel the pain of your amputated finger. The tears that flowed during your youth tickle your cheeks. Why do you want to smile?
The Grand High Witch retains the same refinement and the similar discretion that has allowed her to survive for centuries. Hidden behind a decorative veil that slightly obstructs her gaze, you can feel her eyes on you. Has she really stopped watching you, after all these years?