Say something, I urge myself. Talk to her.
After all, when will I ever get the chance to talk to Ruby Rivera again? It’s not every day you get locked inside a prop room with your all-time favorite celebrity! Maybe if I strike up a conversation and act normal, she’ll see I’m not just some strange hiccuping/crying crazy girl and we’ll become friends! Maybe even best friends!
Let’s start with the Witch in the Woods.
Only children could find her, the Witch, led by foxes faintly glowing in the darkness between sleeping and waking. Together they traveled through dreamland until they came to an archway like an eye half open, big enough only to crawl through.
Beneath the stars, the moon a bouquet of blue-violet bruises, the Witch lived in a castle with turrets of unnaturally thick tree trunks and broad walls of entwined branches and leaves, the battlements formed by the oversize molars of some unfathomable animal. The crisscrossed bones of the portcullis gleamed in the milky midnight light as the drawbridge of melded cloven hooves lowered over rushing river.
There once was a boy who heard the Whispers.
He heard them late in the day as the lazy sun dipped below the treetops and the woods behind his house came alive with the magic of twilight. The voices came to him so gently he though it might be the win, or the first trickle of summer rain. But as time passed, the voices grew louder and the boy was sure they were calling his name. So he followed them.