Necessary Task

“You’re a witch. Deal with it.”

“But it’s inhumane!”

“Honey, please, don’t go all Neo-Nevica-Age or whatever. This is what being a witch is: we gather ingredients from invaluable sources and use them for our spells.”

“But animals are living, breathing things! We can’t hurt them!”

“Tell that to your neighbour’s cat. She was in the trash last night; made such a foul mess. Probably going after the useless possum fetuses I threw out. And stop fidgeting.”

“How come she’s my neighbour’s cat when she does something like that, but when she brings me toads, she’s our neighbour’s cat. Correction: our neighbour’s good cat.”

“Sigh. Because, Avetha, a toad isn’t always easy to catch in the dead of night. Especially when you need it to be full moon-bathed. They scamper away too quickly; the moonlight keeps them on their toes. Cats do it much better. And in all my years of crafting and spelling, I’ve never seen a cat like Miss Popples do it so well. Don’t fidget, dear. Now, we have more than enough moon-bathed toads to last a lifetime. They’re not used in that many spells to begin with. What we don’t have is any cat gut, tail, brain stem, or cat eyes. I’m almost ashamed to call myself a practitioner with so few major ingredients on hand!”

“We can just go to the pound, buy some cats—”

“Hush, now. Nonsense. You know better than that. Paying for natural ingredients nullifies the spell. There can be no currencies attached in anyway.”

“Mom, I don’t want to kill Miss Popples.”

“Avetha, she’s getting on in years, anyway.”

“Then let her pass naturally and—”

“And what? Let her essence be utterly diminished by the time we found her? Or by the time the brainless LePans notice her corpse under their back deck? The Spirits are already too picky when it comes to identifying ingredients. It’s getting to where you have to use a gator’s gizzard the same day you take it out if you ever want to be invisible. It’s ridiculous! I tell you what, Avetha – hmph, stop slouching. I tell you what, it’s about time Trennothia put some new Spirits in place. Now stop sulking. It’s what every young witch has to do in her lifetime. It’ll be easy for you. She trusts you. She doesn’t bring toads to just anyone, dear.”

“That’s what makes it worse. She trusts me, and you expect me to kill her, to just… end her.”

“Honey, let me tell you a story. When I was about your age, I was supposed to make my first kill. My mother said I needed to get some unlaid duck eggs. You know what that is? You have to kill the duck and take the eggs out of the body. Stop squirming now. Well, after days and days of mustering courage, I finally went out to do it, but the birds had caught wind. I saw the ducks on the rooftop of the shed.

“They were all up there, even the males. I didn’t know what to think. Then, one honked and I heard something roll down the roof and hit the ground with a wet splat. I went to look and saw that it was an egg. Or had been an egg. The duck had purposefully laid an egg just so I couldn’t get it after I killed her. The rest of the ducks started honking and, before I knew it, I heard a dozen or more of the same sounds fill the air. To me, it was the sound of complete failure because those ducks only laid once a year.

“I went back to my mother to report my failure and she told me it was my fear of the task that had alerted the ducks. Before, they were docile and friendly. But once they knew what I had to do, they became reckless. She said I should’ve set to the task as soon as I was told, so the ducks wouldn’t have caught wind.”

“Mom, I don’t understand. Are you saying Miss Popples will stop coming and bringing me toads if she knows that I’m supposed to kill her?”

“That’s it exactly. If you let the task sit inside your head and heart too long, then she’ll know. Animals know, honey. Sit up. That’s why you use them in your magic: animals are inherently magic, all of them. I’m telling you this because, in the long run, you’ll realize your duties as a witch are greater than your duties as a humanitarian.”

“I guess it’s just different with Miss Popples—”

“Don’t slouch.”

“Sorry. I guess, I don’t know. I’ve known her for so long.”

“All the more why you need to do it sooner. Once she catches wind, it’ll take time for her to forget and trust you again. Those ducks didn’t trust me for two winters. By then, there were hardly any left.”

“I understand, Mom. I think I’ll go find Miss Popples.”

“Good, Avetha. You make a witch – and a mother – very proud.”



“Hello, Miss Popples. Another toad? It’s daytime so I imagine this isn’t moon-bathed, but thank you. Come here. Let me hold you. Now, Miss Popples, we have some business to discuss. I’m going to kill you.

“Don’t look at me that way. My mom says I have to. She says it’s important I kill you and learn my lessons sooner rather than later. I’m going to kill you and we’ll harvest your very best organs. Don’t squirm, Miss Popples. This has to happen. I have to kill you. I will kill you. I have to! Stop squirming! Oww!

“Sigh. G-g-goodbye, Miss Popples. I’m sorry. I’m… sorry.”

“Avetha, what’re you doing? What happened? I heard your scream.”

“She ran. I g-g-guess she caught wind. She knew, Mom. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’ll try with another cat. One less affectionate. Come here. Let me hug you. I’m still so proud of you.”

“Y-yeah, I’m p-proud of me too.”



Word Count: 1,000