Marr the Cursed

Marr the Cursed

Although only few people from the village ever come to the town, except for the annual autumn fair, I do not feel at ease here. The news spread to the town like wildfire. The tired cowl I put on whenever I venture to the market to thieve some bread or an apple or two to sate the demons in my stomach wards off the looks from the busy townsfolk and keeps me warm in the night in the gully, as the people here call the wet passageway behind the tannery that is my safe haven ever since I fled the village.

Luckily, I do not look much different from the human beggars that I often blend in with once I feel a strange look on my neck, except that their hair was coloured by the soot from the chimneys that keep them warm in the winter and mine are ... Well they are my mothers. Everything else I got from my father - my eyes, black as the tar from the docks where the ships have brought him when he came here; the hue of my skin like olive branches that he put on my mothers head when she told him about me for the first time.

Oh how I miss her and I know she still watches over me, for I can feel her necklace tightening around my wrist whenever I am thinking of her. Soon everybody will find out what the have always been suspecting, the candles will re-light ... She indeed was a witch!

I am Marr the Cursed and the witchcraft will show me the right way!