When I first met you, you were crying.

I had been sent by my father to pick berries for dinner. I had always been told not to venture to far into the forest, for an awful witch lived near whom ate little children. Back when I was young, the tale had frightened me. But I had just turned thirteen, and wasn't afraid of Daddy's fantasy yarns.

When I couldn't find any fruits where I usually searched, I continued to walk, and found a long gravel path.

Berries forgotten, I followed the path to a large, dark, house. I knocked on the door, with no response. Was this house abandoned? I gently pushed open the door.

The house was full of shadows and cobwebs, with dusty furniture and dead plants. Not wanting to keep Daddy waiting, I was about to leave when I heard the distinct sob of a lonely child.

I creaked open the door cautiously, and found a girl about my age with long violet hair sitting on a small white bed with her face buried in her hands.

"Hello?" I said softly, not wanting to startle her. She looked up, her golden eyes brimming with tears.

I crossed over toward her, and knelt by her bed.

"What's wrong?" I asked. "Where is your family?"

"T-they're gone. I made a mistake, and now it's just me." She said, hiccuping softly.

I put my hand on her shoulder. "It'll be all right from now own. I'm here. I'll be your friend, okay?"

She smiled, a slightly bitter smile that barely reached her eyes.

"Okay. My name is Ellen. What's yours?"

"Viola."

And from that day forth, I decided I wanted nothing but to make you happy.

Every day, I visited. You told me that you were a witch, but I wasn't afraid. Those horror stories of my childhood seemed so far away.

We had tea parties together with your dolls and stuffed animals, and you even used your magic to conjure a pet for me. A little frog, my favorite animal.

Little by little, the house seemed to look different. No longer gray and dusty, it had windows, colorful paintings, and even new rooms I had never seen before.

The nature of your magic changes the appearance of the house, I learned. Knowing I had made you so happy and bright inside delighted me.

But you were sick, I knew. Some days I would find you in your bed, so in pain you could barely speak. I had wished so desperately I could help you.

So when you told me of the switching spell, I jumped at the chance.

"Vi, I've searched every spell in the books. Nothing can cure me forever."

"Oh no! Ellie, can't I help? Isn't there something I can do?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. There is a spell that can switch our bodies. I could feel healthy again."

"...But..."

"Oh no, not forever. I couldn't ask that of you. It would only last a day. I would walk in your shoes, and you in mine."

"Well...if it would make you happy."

"Very happy."

"Then...I'll do it."

I told my father I would probably be gone the next day. I told him me and friend Ellen would have a slumber party. He told me it wouldn't be safe for two girls to spend the night by themselves, and we started to argue. I never told him you were a witch. It would just complicate things.

The next day, I set out for your house, noticing the once-colorful walls had taken on a more gray hue. The floor was sticky with clear residue, as if the house were sweating. I paid no mind as I entered your room.

I didn't notice how your hair was swept over your eyes, and your legs obscured by the blankets of your bed.

I disregarded the bloodstains around the room, and your shaky voice as you read out the incantation.

Gray mist snaked from your mouth, curled around me, then you, and all went black.

When I awoke, my body was racked with pain. I couldn't see, and I couldn't feel my legs beyond the thighs. Every breath I took burned, but even still I screamed, my voice belonging to you. Sickness curled around my abdomen, pumped through my veins, seared through my head, and all the while I found myself weakening from all of the blood escaping me.

"ELLEN!" I cried, my arms reaching out blindly.

A hand gripped mine.

"Yes, it hurts, doesn't it," my voice cooed sympathetically. "This is how I feel every day.

"But take this," you said, placing a little bottle of blue liquid in my hand. "It will numb the pain."

The fool I was, I took it. Drank half the bottle before my throat began to burn. It slipped out of my hand and shattered to the floor.

"Goodbye, Viola." I heard footsteps, then the bedroom door creaking.

"Oh, and you have made me so happy." It slammed shut.

I briefly considered chase, but simply leaving my bed was an exhausting task. Then I remembered I was the witch now. I wanted you to come back, to undo this. I willed an obstacle to appear. I would ensnare you in your own house.

To no avail. Every time I thought I had finally trapped you, the house would give a hint, a clue, on how to escape. Before I even knew it, the house had begun to mimic how I felt. It was dark, terrifying, and labyrinthine, but it seemed to develop a sense of kindness as well.

And after all my efforts, once I had thought I had you in my grasp, you ran away, and with a final burst of magic, I strengthened my muscles enough to follow. I had to escape this. All of the pain.

And now here I am, confronting you. You tell me you'll never relinquish control. You tell me you'll live on in me, leaving me to die.

But you sound so happy, so free. A choked, painful smile forms on my lips. Perhaps you can have the peace this body could never give you.

Hurried footfalls approach. My father. My heart wrenched as he called me a monster. I tried to speak, say anything, but my throat was too far gone. When the bullets hit, it was almost a relief. I could feel my life ebbing away.

You left, you and my father. But as I lay there, feeling my heartbeats slow, bleeding out, the cold iron of the bullets lodged in my failing brain, I hear a small, delighted giggle.

You laughed. I had made you happy. I relaxed, giving into oblivion. All I wanted was for you to smile, and knowing you would live a life of joy gave me enough peace to let go.

Goodbye, Ellen.

I give you my best.