Chapter 6.

On one warm, bright, and sunny afternoon, the weather was very nice outside. The sky was baby blue and covered with Heavenly white clouds. The sun smiled down at the animals, as they placed flowers, leaves, and berries around John to honor his death. John laid peacefully at rest, as the beauty of the season of Spring continued to shine. The flowers were still blooming. Animals were wandering, and the water streams were flowing. Everything was at peace. The wind played a beautiful song to recognize John. The animals sung along. There was a smile on John’s face. He seemed happy and at peace. All of the animals of the grassland gathered around John. They sang more songs and danced around him, cherishing his presence. They wanted John to pass on, filled with peace, love, and happiness. Today was supposed to be a ceremonial day of passing and joy.

On the way home from what appeared to be another day of grocery shopping or fruit picking, the witch noticed the animals celebrating John. They chattered, giggled, sung songs, and danced in circles. She hated to witness so many joyful faces. She gradually walked up towards them at the celebration.

“What do you all believe that you are doing?” The witch questioned the animals with an evil glare on her face.

“It’s the witch!”

“It’s the witch!”

“It’s the witch!” 

They all shouted. Many of the animals ran away, while others attempted to hide behind trees and bushes.

“I still know that you all are there. This celebration will end at once!”

“No,” the giraffe said. “We are celebrating John. He did not deserve to die. He is our friend. The least we can do is make sure that he dies peacefully and happily.”

“Sssss,” the witch hissed at the giraffe. “You lame little girl.”

“We are not going to let you hurt our friend,” the coyote said. “You have hurt him enough. Just leave him alone. Let him rest!”

“Ssss,” the witch hissed at the coyote. “You stupid little boy. No one tells me what to do. I will do as I wish. I think that I should recall that I did you all a favor. Don’t you remember… a few months ago?”

“We don’t want to remember,” the butterfly flew up to the side of the witch's face and yelled into her ears. “You evil hag.”

“Be a good little boy, Gerald,” she replied as she lightly thumped the butterfly with her fingers. She started striking little sparks of fire on the ground with her finger tips. It startled the animals and frightened them.

“Just leave us alone,” they begged. The giraffe, coyote, and butterfly cried, as their tears flowed like rivers.

“Then leave,” the witch said.

Fearful, the giraffe, coyote, and butterfly ran away, along with the rest of the grassland animals.

The witch roamed towards John's breathless body, "there there my handsome purple prince." She spoke to John’s dead body as she gently caressed his cheek with her fingertips. “Such a handsome fellow.” The witch puckered her lips and kissed John’s forehead. “I always get my kiss,” she said to John. She dropped her basket, and gave John a hug, laid next to him on the ground, and gently caressed his chest. She held his hands. She tilted his head, so that she could look at his face. She continued to look at his face, but became angry. The happier and happier he seemed, the more resentful and angry she became. She squeezed his hands very harshly and clinched her teeth, until she could no longer take it.

“I will not allow you to die a happy man,” she spoke to him as words flung out of her mouth and spit flung onto his face. “Some of us will never get our happy ending!”

After the witch spoke, she raised her hands to the sky and stood still as she intensely stared at John’s dead body. The sky turned gray, and yellow lightning fell from the sky and struck John in the chest.

 “Huh!,” John gasped and took a deep breath. He looked at himself. He touched himself. He was surprised that his once cold body had become warm again. He spoke to himself as he wiggled his fingers, “What has happened? I am supposed to be dead.”

 “Hello handsome,” The witch chuckled. 

“Do you still want that kiss?” She laughed in an evil manner.

 “Just let me be at peace.”

 “No.”

“I have done nothing wrong. I just want to be left alone!”

“NO!” The witch spoke aggressively.

“Why won’t you leave me alone? Where are my animal friends?” John was confused.

The witch did not respond. She glanced at John and then looked around the grassland, as if searching for something.

“I will give you your purple oranges back,” John said.

Moments later, an old deer came along. The deer galloped through the grass and went to the stream. It leaned its head into the water and sipped until satisfied. The witch tapped her forehead with her index finger, as if she was brainstorming ideas.

 “Do you want your purple oranges back?” John begged and pleaded.

 “NO!” 

The witch yelled to the sky. She ran to her basket and pulled out a clear bottle with a white substance inside. It looked like white powder. Though not quick enough, John attempted to shield himself with his arms, just as the witch threw the substance onto John's body. Before he could fight back, it was too late. The bumps on his skin became more prevalent. His lips became wrinkled. His eyes had black circles around them. He looked down at his new round feet. He galloped to the stream and saw his reflection. Now, he was an ugly, old, purple deer-looking monster. 

A tear fell down John’s right eye, as the witch giggled and commented, “You shall never find happiness!” The witch strutted proudly on the dirt trail leading to her home.