I killed my Mother after she tried to burn me alive. She always thought I was a little different, and, one day, she just assumed I was a witch, beat me around the head and attempted to light me on fire. I got out, and, like most people, realized I wasn't too safe with her around, so I ran outside, got the shovel and buried her alive.

It took a few chances, though. People are surprisingly strong when they're fighting for their lives.

So, after that, I thought, why not become a witch? Develop the powers to protect children who were just like me. Little girls and boys who had Fathers who left them and Mothers who beat them.

There was a little catch when I traded my soul for eternal life and incredible power, though, apparently I'd have to devour souls of children or I'd starve to death. I was a little worried, but I realized that I could just eat the children who didn't really love me. Problem solved! But I wanted my children to have a wonderful Father, so I made one out of a pumpkin. One who happened to betray me and leave me to die in my own magical realm when I'd given him everything he'd ever wanted.

People can be so ungrateful, can't they?

Oh, and I suppose I'm cripplingly afraid of being alone, unloved and unwanted. I suppose you could say I've never really believed anyone has loved me for me; they just love the things I can give them or they love me because they were made to. Just once, I'd like for someone to look me right in the eyes and say, from the very bottom of heir heart 'I love you'.

But we can't always get what we want, can we? So I'll just help children who will never really care about me no matter how hard I try to please them, even though every time I do I think it'd be more fun just to starve to death than be rejected once more.