The Good Witch Film Stars and Butterflies - Prologue

Prologue

Michelle

One memory is driving in the car.

     My body fidgeted in old fabric seats and my feet tapped up and down - though no music was playing. Sun beamed down on us through dotted clouds and dusty windows. I looked out to the houses and trees that flew passed my eyes, creating a blur of brown, beige and green. The air con was broken, so the air felt hot and moist which, as a restless child, I hated. I wound the window down.

     Mere seconds passed before Mum glanced over to me sharply.  

     “Isn’t it a bit cold in here?” She said indifferently.

I wound the window back up.

     I never really know how to talk about my Mother. She was one of those few talented women, who spoke with her eyes. She could bring down the proudest man on Earth with those eyes if she felt the need; she could turn a room cold.

     Unconditional love is apparently what we feel for family, although I’ve never been sure how ‘unconditional’ is meant to feel, nor how it made people act. I certainly didn’t think it would allow what happened when I was sixteen.