• Martha was dancing and twirling around when I found her in the field. She confused me so much. At one moment, she seems sad and depressed and at another, she is free-spirited and excited. Her dancing somehow made me want to dance along with her. The way she moved was like the wind between the leaves. Her hands flew suavely in the air. I became mesmerized. It seemed that every day, she became more beautiful. I walked over to her and wrapped one arm around her waist. She jumped and looked at me. I put my hand in hers and held it up. Slowly, I moved ourselves back and forth in a slow dancing-like motion. Before I knew it, I was gazing into her eyes again. Her deep emeralds sparkled in the sunset. I looked deep into the emeralds, trying to unlock her hidden thoughts. Something had been on her mind, and I wanted to know what it was. I found nothing but beauty as I searched into her emotions. She quickly pulled away, wrecking my concentration. She began walking toward another end of the field with her arms across her chest. She slowly shook her head. She turned back to me with her eyes filled with tears.
    “Martha, what’s wrong?”
    I ran to her and pulled her into my arms. What was wrong with her? What had I done to do this to her? Was dancing with her something I shouldn't had done? Had I slipped up too far and shown my love for her without knowing it? I needed to know! I didn't want her to leave me!
    “Martha?” I pleaded.
    “Zeek... I can't do his anymore... I—”
    “I'm sorry I messed up! I had no idea dancing with you would make you sad! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!”
    She cried louder. She rested her hands on my shoulders. Without wiping her tears away, she looked up at me. I wanted to cry, also. I hated and never wanted to see her cry.
    “It's nothing to do with you, Zeek. It's all me. I've been denying it for so long. I don't know how long I can keep going.” She held her hands to her mouth.
    “What is wrong, Martha? Tell me,” I demanded.
    “No, Zeek, I refuse to tell you!”
    “I'm sorry, but I have to go. I have to leave. I need time to think. I can't think with you here.”
    My eyes grew wide. What was she talking about? I couldn't have her leave. I couldn't live without her. Whatever she had to do, when she came back, she'd find me laying next to a clock with a knife stabbed into my heart..
    “No,” I said quietly, “you can't leave. I'll leave. You can't leave!”
    “Zeek, enough... I'm sorry, but this is my only option for now.”
    She blinked rapidly. I wanted to wipe the tears from her eyes. I wanted all of this to stop. All I wanted was Martha and her happiness. I didn't want her gone and upset. She rubbed her hand against my cold face.
    “I'm sorry,” she whispered.
    She kissed my cheek and backed away from me. I wanted to leap up and grab her. I couldn't handle what she was about to do. She was a witch—in a matter of seconds, she'll warp somewhere else. She stood as still as a stone for a long time. Her continuous crying broke my heart one piece at a time. The wind began to spin rapidly around her. I gasped at what looked like a tornado forming. Martha clutched her hands into fists and looked one last time at me. She waved to me then vanished in the howling wind.