The witching hour

Prolouge

"Scream and I'll slice your throat" I froze.
Suddenly everything went black.

Life was good, hard but good. We usually managed to eat enough each day to not starve or get sick, and we had a fireplace that kept us warm at night. My sister and I would collect firewood each morning.
Eventually it became routine, especially as the  colder months approached; wake up, collect wood, go home, do chores, eat, sleep, and then start all over again the next day.
It didn't help that no one else in our village liked our family and treated us worse than their chickens.
I guess that's what happens when everyone thinks you're mother is a witch. It didn't bother me much, my sister said it was because I was to young to understand. She was four years older than me.
She hated how we were treated always saying things like "it's not fair" or "we deserve better than this" but to me I was just happy that we had a family.
I would hear talk about people's parents dying from sickness or cold, leaving their children all alone.
We got lucky last time the influenza wiped through, it killed my father and my baby brother, but luckily my sister my mother and I are still alive.
I still remember the way my sister locked herself in the one bedroom of our house and didn't come out for days not even to eat.
I didn't know our father well I was so young when it happened I don't even remember what he looked like.
Our mother grieved in a different way than my sister, who did so in private. Instead my mother lost it in the middle of town square. Making everyone hate us even more.
Eventually people forget and move on from the aftermath of the flu.
We lived our lives normally and it was almost boring.
I never got a childhood like Jesabelle, my sister did. As soon as I turned eight My mother told me I had to do chores all day to make sure Jesabelle could go to school and get educated while I cooked and cleaned. I was okay with it because I had never known anything different. That was a year ago and now sometimes I wish I could attend classes and learn to read and write, but I know that could never happen. On occasion Jesabelle helps with chores, our mother doesn't like me going into the forest alone so she makes her go out with me to collect wood but she never carries any of it back. I never understood my sister and why she was the way she was.
I had always assumed that our fathers death turned her cold and mean.
One morning she wasn't home and I knew she had been out last night at the tavern.
She's not supposed to go there but she does anyway and then she goes off with different men each night.
Our mother always gets mad and tells her she's too young for such things but Jesabelle never listens.
That morning I still had to collect firewood with or without her. And instead of going around to the other houses and looking for her I decided to go own my own.

I slowly walked out past the field behind our small cottage, snow crunching under my worn out boots. As I reached the forest I could tell something was different. I couldn't smell it or see it, or even hear it for that matter but I knew something was wrong.
I continued on until I got to the usual spot where I found dry sticks. I couldn't carry very many since I wasn't strong enough, but I could haul enough back for the evening.
Before I managed to grab any sticks I felt something behind me, or better yet someone.
I didn't dare move.
Then I heard a voice, it was smooth like silk, but deep and full of power. It was in that moment I realized this wasn't someone who should be messed with.
"Scream and I'll slit you're throat" is what he said.
My heart was thumping against my ribs and I tried not to cry.
Suddenly everything went black.