Sally the Witch
This is installment #3 in my several-part series, Shit I Wrote A While Ago. This one is easily the worst of all of them, and if I remember correctly, I wrote it for absolutely no reason. It’s from 1995.
Sally the Witch
Once upon a time (because all good stories start that way) there was a little witch named Sally. She lived in a little house near a bog in Wyoming with her Aunt Selena and her black cat, Bobsy. Alas, Sally was very sad. She had no other little witches or warlocks to play with. Sure, there was Henrietta, but she was just a baby witch who couldn’t even talk yet. Sally was lonely.
One day she went to Aunt Selena and said, “Aunt Selena, why aren’t there any little witches or warlocks around here?”
“Well, Sally,” Aunt Selena said, “there’s always Henrietta.”
“Henrietta!” Sally exclaimed. “She can’t even talk yet! She can’t even walk yet! She’s a baby!”
“You have Bobsy, he’s good company.” Aunt Selena wasn’t much help, in Sally’s opinion.
“I’m going to the city to find me a friend!” Sally told Aunt Selena.
“No, Sally!” Aunt Selena shouted. “You can’t go find a mortal friend, they’ll be afraid of you.”
“That’s crazy!” Sally said. “Why on Earth would they be afraid of me?”
“Because you’re a witch, silly,” Aunt Selena reminded her.
“But I’m just a little witch,” Sally said.
“But your funny black dress and unseemly purple hair might frighten the children,” Aunt Selena pointed out. “Wait until tonight.”
“Why at night?” Sally wanted to know.
“Well, first of all, if you go out when it’s light people might see you and call the police, but more importantly, TONIGHT IS HALLOWEEN!” Aunt Selena did a little dance as a sign of enthusiasm.
“WHat is HALLOWEEN?” Sally asked, doing the little dance because she thought it was part of the word.
Aunt Selena was purely horrified. “You don’t know about HALLOWEEN?” she exclaimed, doing the little dance as she said “HALLOWEEN.”
“No,” said Sally.
“HALLOWEEN” (little dance) “is the time of year when all little children dress up like monsters, dragons, fairies, princesses, cheap television personalities, presidents, witches, etcetera, etcetera,” Aunt Sally said kindly. “Which means you can go out and find a friend without looking really, really strange.”
“Now I understand,” Sally agreed. “Thanks, Aunt Selena,” she said.
At about 8:00 that night Sally went out to the city where she saw monsters, dragons, fairies, princesses, cheap television personalities, presidents, witches, etcetera, etcetera. She met some nice children, played games, got sick from eating too much candy, and didn’t have to go to school the next day.
THE END
Author’s note: HAPPY HALLOWEEN (and don’t eat too much candy)!
Was that boring as fuck, or what? 9-year-old me sucked balls at being interesting. It reads like a story from the October issue of Highlights. Interestingly, I’ve managed to capture several psychological truths: children don’t understand objective discrimination, babies are boring, schools can apparently exist to further the education of the sole area child, candy is tempting like the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge, and the police respond to witch-related complaints. However, if you change the word “witch” to any sort of slang term for a minority group, this story instantly becomes a poignant commentary of the trials facing underprivledged children in America. Therefore, I have to give it a B+
