After the Apocalypse

an exceptional young witch

The first time she uses magic, it's done unintentionally at five years old.

She's in her favorite yellow sundress with her head done up in twin pigtails, a crown of fake wildflowers her grandmother had bought for her placed upon her head like a colorful halo. Her mother and her grandmother are talking in the kitchen in harsh, hushed whispers while she plays outside in the garden, excitedly running around and looking at every bloomed flower, every ripened vegetables and herbs that were in their prime. There was always just something about nature, about the plants in full bloom like this that made her feel so elated, so happy, she couldn't help but laugh happily at what the thriving nature makes her feel.

Her squeals and shrill giggles are cut off suddenly by a sharp sting she feels. She stops running abruptly and frowns at the feeling, holding her side with a tiny hand. She lifts up a corner of her dress to inspect her side when her mother sharply calls out her name.

Jumping slightly, the young girl drops her hand back to her side and looks up with innocent eyes as her mother comes out of the door.

"Mallory, what on earth are you doing?"

Even that young, Mallory could tell that something was bothering her mother, something was making her mad (though, she didn't know what). She folds her hands behind her back and rocks back on her heels. "I think I got stung by a bee," she finally admits, unable to look up at the woman.

Her mother crouched down and lifted up her daughter's dressed quickly, sighing heavily when she saw nothing there. "Mallory, Gran and I are having a really important talk. Can you please go deeper in the garden and play a little quieter?"

Mallory, still without making eye contact with her mother, nodded and scampered off further away from the house. She sat down in the middle of a row of tall sunflowers, picking up tiny pebbles between her fingers and rolling them around with a small pout. As she's making a small path of pebbles in the dirt, she feels that same sharp pain in her side, more intense this time. She softly calls out an, "Ouch!", and rubs her side stubbornly, looking again only to find no bump, no red area on her skin. She stands up and begins to walk back to the house, feeling a little scared at this point, when she sees it.

It's a small, fuzzy bumblebee curled up beneath a tall sunflower stalk. It's body is limp, antenna lazily moving around. As Mallory looks closer, she can see that the insect's wings are torn and broken, making the poor creature unable to lift itself from the ground. And though the pain in her side gets worse as she nears the bug, as her parents previous warnings about bees stinging echoes in the back of her mind, Mallory gently scoops up the bug in her palms and rushes back towards the house.

She has tears streaming down her face as she looks down at the bee, almost like she can feel its pain as her own and comes rushing in the kitchen a blubbering mess. "Mommy, Gran-Gran!"

Immediately, the two adults crouch near her, both worriedly looking over her. "Mallory, what's wrong swee-" her grandma starts in her naturally soft, caring tone, reaching for her granddaughter to check her over when Mallory's mother cuts in front of her and shoots the woman a dangerous glare.

Mallory's mother isn't as gentle as her grandmother would be when she checks the small girl over, twisting her around and roughly grabbing her face to check for any cuts or bruises. Annoyance paints her features when she doesn't find anything and she glowers at her daughter. "What is it, Mallory?"

The small girl looks over at her grandma for help, lower lip trembling as she holds up the bee with broken wings up for the eldest woman to inspect it.

"Mallory, put that thing down!" her mother cries out in fear and disgust, swatting her hands and causing the bee to go flying onto the floor with a tiny thud.