How I Lost My Pain - A Supernatural Tragedy told as Madison Motgomery

it is 3 in the morning, and i sit in the quietness of my closet - it matches my thought. i hold a lit candle in one hand, and my other is on top of it. i'm begging for something i once had and despised; something i dragged along with me throughout my career.

it was the commencement of the skeptics' search that drew me into the coven - the witches' circle. no one from the outside world knew we were what we were. we held a bond close to blood, we were sisters who sought to protect each other from the heretics with our small myriad of powers: telekinesis, divination, pyrokinesis, concillium, transmutation, descensum, and vitalum vitalis. only the supreme could perform seven of them, and the supreme i was going to be because i could feel it. they say that a new supreme is known when she has radiant health, which i can feel rushing through my veins as Fiona Goode - the current supreme - gets weaker and weaker. we grew friendly progressively as she saw a reflection of her perseverance and severe distaste for bourgeois people with a lack of ambition in me.

succeeding into a series of empowering women, i knew i wasn't deserving of the title of supreme; and so did Fiona. on the eve of the night of the Sacred Test for the Seven Wonders, she drew me into her cloud of portraits of previous supremes. she unravelled the story of her and her preceding supreme, how she slit her throat to obtain the Sacred Power. i knew it was my turn. it was my duty to take on the role and lead the coven into my glorious reign of elegantly intimidating witches. before i knew it, she did the same thing she did to Anna Leigh - to me. my blood was cascading through the rims of the rug and into the polished wooden panelling. my vision blurred, my skull weary. i don't remember anything further than that.

it wasn't until i was resurged by one of my sister witches that i was impaled by the groggy sensation tap-dancing over me, the gruesome, sandy taste, and the pungent smell of apparent death. i was still in pruney condition, though i managed to keep up with the day-to-day activities; then did it come to me, like a sudden storm surge, that i had lost something i once had. food tasted bland, cold showers weren't as refreshing, time went by particularly slowly, and boys didn't excite me much. i could stick my tongue into the throat of one and not feel a thing. i had lost my ability to feel.

so here i am, still trying to burn a hole through my hand. i probably have a third-degree burn now, but what's the point if you can't feel? i've just eaten everything in my pantry, yet i can't seem to be full. i have no thoughts, no ambitions anymore. i had always thought pain was the worst thing anyone could ever feel; the guilt-ridden, mind-eating type. i was wrong. it's the absence of pain.