Just A Poke:
******
“You need to chill out,” Merilyn said with a mocking voice, shoving a needle through the cloth doll in her hand. She only needed to stitch the hair in. Of course, she would be ripping it out later, but in order for the doll to work at all, it had to be complete. How stupid? Lyn rolled her eyes at the thought. Why couldn’t this be as simple as whispering a few words and wreaking havoc that way? At least then there’d be no evidence. But noooo. Dear Grammy thinks this will be more beneficial to me.
The witch’s grandmother had once been the same as her, angry and wanting to do anything to hurt the person who hurt her. It did no good. The person she was angry with thought she was crazy and continued down his hellish path, and she was left feeling exhausted from her spells, and unsatisfied with the results. Merilyn would only reenact it all, and Grammy wouldn’t allow that to happen. ‘Make a doll,’ she said. ‘It will bleed in your hands and soon you will realize hurting this boy is not worth the sticky and smelly palms.’ Lyn only agreed because her grandmother wasn’t in the best of shape- best to please her than to have her die and haunt me for being a terrible ancestor. There was little else thought beyond this.
“It’s not like I’m making out with her or anything.” Lyn’s lip lifted in disgust. She could just hear that dumbass’ voice. Soon enough, though, she’d be severing his vocal cords; that didn’t mean she’d ever be able to forget his voice.