You’ve probably heard of the tale of Hansel and Gretel. They sound like really nice people who help around and save people from witches – but they aren’t. They are actually horrid witch hunters practicing the Dark Arts.
My sister, Alexis, was a good witch who wanted to save people from the Dark witches and wizards. But then she died and I watched it all from a window. From then on, I hid in the forest and tried to find a way to get revenge on Hansel and Gretel. Of course, I knew that it was virtually impossible, but something deep inside me, something that raged fiercely like a fire, pushed me more and more.
It all started on a cool spring day. The sparrows were tweeting away happily in the havens of leaves above. Sunshine illuminated every part of the forest. Everything seemed perfect. Me and Alexis had finally finished building the candy house for children and adults who were lost in the woods. It had shiny windows made of sugar, scrumptious gingerbread walls and a door created with the finest chocolate in the world. A fence of candy canes and strawberry string acted as a border around the dwelling. There was a small space left for a gate built of marzipan. All of it was finished off with a shortbread door knocker and a single cookie stepping stone.
“The people will absolutely love this!” said Alexis excitedly, a huge smile on her face.
Later on in the day, I went to collect some food from the forest whilst Alexis stayed at the house. With me, I took my satchel and dark blue travelling cloak. I managed to gather enough mushrooms and wild berries for both of us. When I came back, I heard several voices inside, Alexis’, a man’s and woman’s. Suddenly, there was a loud smash. I looked through one of the windows and saw the owners of the other voices inside. The woman, who was dressed head to toe in dark-coloured clothes, was rushing to to get a broom and clean up a pile of shattered glass. Meanwhile, the man was apologising to Alexis for his sister’s ‘foolish actions’. He was clad in a checkered shirt, with colours of green and red blending together, and baggy, patched trousers. Then, I realised that a brown stick was sticking out of a pouch in each of their trousers. They had ancient runes and symbols carved on them. I couldn’t believe it! Could they be Hansel and Gretel? But if they were, why were they being so friendly?
Alexis went over to turn the oven on. As she twisted a knob, orangey-blue flames blazed behind the glass pane. She opened the oven door and walked over to a two-tiered cake sitting on the worktop. Just as she turned around, Hansel and Gretel immediately leapt to their feet, got their wands out and pointed them at Alexis, who suddenly started screaming. I wanted to go and help her, but my foot was being held captive by a gnarled vine snaking out of the ground. I pulled and tugged but it was no use. An impenetrable plant. Inside, the treacherous witch hunters waved their wands over to a spot in front of the open oven. Alexis was dragged to the same location.
“Ha! You thought you could hide from us? You were wrong!” yelled Gretel.
“W-W-What do y-you- want?” Alexis spluttered.
“You know what,” replied Hansel, evil drifting around in his voice. “We want to rid the world of all the good witches and wizards.”
Then, without warning, they stuck their wands out even further and shouted in unison, “TIMORIOS ET MORTEMIS!!!”
A strong wind blew through the house and splintered the window, making my cloak billow out behind me. I nearly fell back but managed to regain balance. Alexis jerked and choked. Then she staggered back and fell into the oven. Her screams were most unpleasant. It lasted for about half a minute and then there was only silence. The vine holding my foot released. Smash! A long object crashed through another of the sugar windows, shattering the peace that had once deluged the woods. I ran deep into the forest and went into hiding. One might say that I went crazy after spending such a long time in the woods, but they don’t know the truth. And as for Hansel and Gretel, well, I’ve heard they’re going to twist the tale again.