Peer Review by Teaston (United States)

Below, you'll see any text that was highlighted with comments from the reviewer.

Tap on comment to view. Using a mouse?

Hover over comments to view. On a touch device?

Girls of a Feather | prologue

By: efflorescence


    “Once, there was a witch named Antsje Pluk, and she liked to hide in the forest,” the story begins. “An evil heks, she loved children - after all, everyone knows they’re delicious. She would sprinkle them with salt before gobbling them whole, stuffing them into her mouth and licking their blood off of her fingers like it was licorice. She’d eat them if they were fat, lean, old, young, boy, girl - but she wouldn’t eat any nice children, only the naughty. Because only the naughty play in the forest after dark. She comes to you just after you breathe a sigh of relief, thinking you’re safe, creeping up behind you like a shadow. She’s as tall as a tree and as thick as a trunk, and don’t let her old age fool you. If she finds you, there’s no escape. She’ll drag you to her cottage, deep in the woods where no one can hear your screams or see your footprints, and she’ll pop you into her mouth like candy.”
    The twin girls gulped, gripping each other’s hands in fear. The wind groaned as it blew, rattling the house and the girls. They jumped up, running to the table and cowering underneath it.
    “Hush, hush,” Mam soothed, bending down to stroke their foreheads. “You don’t need to worry about Antsje Pluk. You know better than to play in the forest after dark, and I’ve raised you girls to be nice, not naughty, ja?”
    “Ja, Mam,” they chorused. They were both still afraid, but they knew better than to say anything. After all, they were good girls, and good girls didn’t question their mothers.
    Mam pulled them to their feet, smoothing out the wrinkles in their nightgowns. She herded them toward their bedroom, but one of the girls stayed behind.
    She waited until her sister and mother were out of the room before racing over to the window. She peered into the woods, looking for a sign to prove her mother’s story. All she saw was trees, their limbs dipping with the weight of time, and a bird, barely visible through the interwoven branches.
    She relaxed, her fear fleeing like the night at dawn, but something caused her to stiffen. The bird had turned to face her, and its eyes shone white, so bright it pierced through the darkness. Behind it, a shadowy figure grew and grew until it was as tall as the tree and as wide as a trunk.
    The bird startled into the air, cawing as it flew toward the house. It crashed into the window with a loud thud, and the girl jerked away, watching as it slid to the ground in a mess of blood and feathers. She looked up to find the shadowy figure gone, but she knew who it was.
    It was Antsje Pluk, and the heks had spotted her. She knew it.
    She was coming for her.

Message to Readers

This was written for the Open Novella Contest 2019 on Wattpad! Please comment below if you're interested in the story so I'll know if I should post the rest of the chapters. (If you want to read the entire novella, here's the Wattpad link:

Peer Review

Was this a true cultural story, or was it completely made up? (the part I'm questioning about being cultural is the part talking about Antsje Pluk the witch.)

My question is in the box above.

Reviewer Comments

This is an interesting short story piece.