The Mimic

63

As y/n explored her hometown, that feeling of numbness begun to come back. Her face showed no emotion, and she kept a neutral composure. Nobody knew who she was. Nobody recognised her as the 'Little Witch' that they strived to remember. If she cried, nobody would understand the real reason why. To them she was just an outsider, a tourist to a tiny town. So y/n stayed numb. It was easier that way. She was able to push away the pain that way.

Y/n visited every store and stall, taking her time to look at all the homemade products up for sale. All the little trinkets and toys, all the jewellery and hand-sewn clothing, everything. But one store stood out from them rest. It was her father's old store. 

Her father was a shoemaker. The only one in town, and God, was he good at his craft. Y/n and her mother used to visit the store every day to spend lunch with him. It was never anything special, just a few basic sandwiches, but that didn't matter. The time they spent together was far more valuable. Y/n used to stomp around the store in the biggest shoes that she could find, off in her own little world whilst her parents watched from behind the counter. Life was good.

As soon as y/n stepped inside the store, she could feel the tears bubbling up again. The smell of leather and the chime of the bell at the door brought so many bittersweet memories back. She took a deep breath, smiling politely at the man at the counter as she begun to walk around the store. Everything was the same. Of course the shoes weren't, but the layout was, even down to the way each shoe was displayed. But, what caused y/n to freeze was the picture frames on the wall. They were photos of her and her parents. Y/n carefully stepped closer so she could have a better look, smiling fondly at the sight of it. The photo was in black and white, and displayed her mother and father smiling in front of the store, seeming as they'd just bought it. Her father was holding up a baby proudly - it was y/n - whilst her mother laughed and reached out to take the baby from him.

"That's the family of the Little Witch. They used to own this store."

Y/n was suddenly ripped from the happy memory by the man behind the counter, glancing over at him with wide eyes. God, he had no idea. "There's a remembrance site not far from here that'll explain the story a little better, but after they passed away my great-grandfather took over the store. My great-grandfather was his best friend, so we decided to honour them after their tragic deaths by keeping the layout the same. From what I know they were a great family. Gone too soon." The man explained with a sad smile. He turned the photo frame around on the counter to display a picture of y/n's father beside his great-grandfather. "Supposedly they did everything together." He hummed. Y/n took in a shaky breath as she listened, a polite smile on her face. She recognised the great-grandfather. He was like an uncle to her. He'd always take her out to play in the fields and give her candy that he knew y/n wasn't allowed to have. He was an amazing man. "Here, these are the directions to the remembrance site." The man smiled, holding out a piece of paper for y/n to take. "Thank you." Y/n said with a weak smile, taking the paper before she made her way out of the store. 

As soon as y/n stepped out of the store, she threw the piece of paper into the nearest trash can. She'd already been to the remembrance site. That used to be her home. She was the Little Witch. Yet nobody recognised her. She felt like an impostor in her own hometown, as if she was a missing puzzle piece. She didn't fit in anymore. Y/n was a girl out of time. Ripped from the happy life she was supposed to have and turned into a tourist attraction by her own town. Of course she admired the work they'd done to remember her and her family, but nobody alive understood any of it. To them, she was just another local story.