The truth of Mila

Mila was looking at the bloodstain on the white handkerchief William had given to her. She was shaking. A fear was haunting her. She was afraid of herself and she didn't know if anybody in the world ever felt like this. Who is she? What made her? She remembered the time where Luke and she shared the stories of witches, the black magic. Is she one? What she could call herself?

"Mila, are you alright?" William's sound was thicker than she heard it first. Mila was in another world, a world belonged to weird human beings, who were born without parents, without a sperm or an ovum. Mila looked into his eyes. Is he lying? He is really old. Was his brain failing him? Is he mad? Old and sick people go mad sometime. And he is alone, just like her mother. Is he mad? Or her mother mad? Or both of them?

"Mila, call him now. You must go back". He continued, ignoring her silence.