The Spell… a short story

Her only hope was cascading away in a whimsy of words appearing upon the walls.  This spell, the one she found in her great grandmother’s diary, the one she thought was only words of lore, now have meaning. 

And, from her childhood, she recalled the eerie words of her grandmother who often talked of witchcraft and her own mother’s ability to deal with undesirables who came uninvited into her home.  Even the small memory of her great grandfather, who she never knew, but who she had heard terrifying stories about began to make sense.  He had disappeared without a trace.

Isabelle accepted this fate seeing her existence fading into light, like the spell read, but she maintained her composure and watched her very being subjugated into nothingness.