"Witch" Chapter 2 EDITED

Hey everyone, well when i first submitted chapter 2 of "Witch" it was in the same post as chapter 1, and i quickly learned this was far too much to post right off, as readers tend to veer away from big posts. This is the edited chapter 2, with things added, taken away, changed etc. I hope you enjoy it and review:

Chapter 2

Cross Examination

I didn’t sleep well that night, the complex concoction of nerves and excitement kept me up reading until finally, in the still of night my body eventually gave in, and let me fall into a difficult state of unconsciousness.

A blanket of perfect white greeted me when I looked out the window in the morning; the crystal snow lay there indolently. It was completely oblivious to the inconvenience it caused the world around it, but its spectral beauty compensated for its lack of manners.

The house was deadly silent. Dad was already at work. Mum and Annabelle were still in bed, Mum didn’t start work till ten and Annabelle had enrolled in college. Some people had all the luck in the world.

Flipping the switch on the kettle, I threw a tea bag into a mug and waited, impatiently, for the kettle to boil. The temptation to use magic flirted with me shamelessly; my own heart and impatience begged me to boil the water faster. This thought was soon squashed by my mind, which scolded like a teacher at my own weakness.

Grabbing an orange from the fruit bowl, I sliced it placidly into quarters before finally pouring my cup of tea. I added just a smidge of milk and fourteen sugars, the tea was near black in color; just how I liked it.

Sitting at the solid wood table I sipped my tea and ate my orange segments, quietly scared to finish and begin my journey to school. I had never felt this nervous; it was so frustrating that I should be this petrified about a new school.

It’s just a school; it’s just a school. The more I replayed my statement, the less I believed the sincerity of my own words.

It was impossible, being in this house, alone and afraid, not to see the gravity of my situation.

Dragging my body back up the stairs, I switched the power shower on and stepped into the bracing heat. The water seemed to hold me like a child, gently allowing my body to wake from its slumber by offering the promise of heat and comfort.

Running shampoo through my hair, the scent of peaches and strawberry’s filled the shower, making me smile gently. My nerves got the better of me; I couldn’t just stand here in the water I had to do…something!

The cool air stabbed at my skin, causing Goosebumps to spread like wildfire all over my body, grabbing a thick black towel and wrapping it round me, I stomped back to my room feeling sorry for myself. I loved the cold, but going from one extreme to another was an utter scandal.

I stood before my mirror, half naked and dripping wet, the image of me kicked caution out of my mind and urged me to take a short cut. Stretching magical abilities inside myself caused me to be dry in seconds.

I was dry, my hair was perfect and I was dressed in my favourite pair of jeans. The familiarity of using magic to aid me offered a small relief from my nerves. Magic was my comfort zone, an unseen friend in times of need. Now, in the stillness of the morning, when I couldn’t be caught…magic was no longer my friend, but a guilty pleasure.

My grey shirt and black jeans fell upon my body smoothly, my pale skin contrasted strikingly against my clothes. I was sure I looked ghastly, my hair was too long for a boy, my skin was too pale, I was too fat and I was sure to be behind in all the latest fashions. Oh well, your already going to be bullied for being the new kid, so why bother trying to fit in?

The clock struck eight; I hurriedly grabbed my bag from the foot of my bed and slid down the banister to save time. My key’s jangled in my pocket as I slammed the front door, deliberately trying to wake the rest of the house.

Rushing down the path I lost my balance, the ice beneath me betrayed my efforts to stay upright; I went down onto my side, the snow beneath me cushioning the blow. I hoped and prayed that none of the neighbors saw my tumble.

I walked deliberately slowly down the street - ice and snow greeted every step I took. I loved snow, I despised ice. I was in a hurry, and I had to take things slow. Just what I need.

The school bus was already at the stop when I got there, no student’s getting on but me. I stepped on diffidently, knowing that everyone on the bus was staring at me; I gave the driver a dollar before finding a vacant seat near the back.

Hushed whispers and gossip filled the air, along with the repugnant stench of perfume coming from the back, occasionally I caught snippets of chatter, some of it was about TV shows I had never even heard of, but most of it was about me. Gee, I thought to myself living in a small town’s gonna be fun.

Losing myself by staring out the window, I hadn’t even noticed that a girl about my age had slid next to me.

“Emily. Emily Harrison” she grabbed my hand and it shook it vigorously, before continuing, “You must be Tristan? We were told you were coming.” Her high- pitched voice laced with a heavy southern accent made her sound loud but friendly.

“Oh?” I replied “No wonder everyone’s talking” I sighed, smiling in return to hers. She was relatively pretty, her warm brown curls lying smartly at her shoulders while her brown eyes darted back and forth. Her smile was refined and welcoming, gently dimpling her rosy cheeks.

“Its just small town news, everyone knows everyone else’s business around here. You’ll get used to it.” She laughed; “So what subjects are you taking?” her keen voice soothed my nerves. I had never held so much conversation with anyone my age before; I silently thanked her for her enthusiasm.

“English, History, Culinary and Psychology” I answered obediently, before turning my body more fully towards her.

“Oooo, I think I’m in your English and Culinary class!” she squealed excitedly.

The bus journey seemed short, Emily kept probing me about where I used to live, what I do for fun and she filled me in on the entire goings on at the school. Apparently some girl named Susie had just broken up with some boy called David…Again.

The bus slowed as we approached the school, a medieval-modern structure that looked more like an exquisitely large mansion, rather then a small town high school in Canada. The tall towers stretched gallantly into the sky, as extensions of glass and red brick rooted themselves firmly to the ground.

A quiet elegance surrounded the whole building, a maturity and freedom that was lost among normal high schools, I could tell education was taken very seriously here.

Emily grabbed me by the hand and quickly dragged me off the bus, before anyone had even bothered to notice we’d stopped. I made a mental note to query her where she got all her energy.

Emily yanked me through the students, dodging and weaving as she led me up the front lawn and across the courtyard, I caught a glimpse of a fountain and a hedge before I was being dragged into the building.

It was bewitching.

The walls were crafted of finely polished oak and stretched longingly high above me; the windows were large and most were images crafted expertly from stained glass, depicting roses and swords. Oil paintings rested comfortably on the walls, old alumni, old principals and depictions of graduation ceremonies were the common theme.

“Impressive” I whispered, turning to Emily I asked “What’s the rush?”

“Oh, you are in my registration class, that’s how I knew you were coming, and we don’t want to be late do we? Because if you were late on your first day, you’d have to walk into the room with the whole class staring at you and that would be bad, wouldn’t you say?” she babbled her lips moving unimaginably fast. I had to admit the embarrassment of walking late into a room full of strangers, who were bound to be judging me, was an idea I didn’t like to entertain.

Taking a seat near the back of the room, the class filed in shortly afterwards, the hum of chatter and conversation carried into the room.

Emily left me to my own devices. To my disdain, people started to crowd me and ask me questions, firing them at me like darts. I was being felt out. I was being cross-examined. However, I detected no malice in my classmate’s words, no one tried to trip me up on my likes and dislikes; they were just normal people trying to get to know me.

For the first time in my life, I felt welcome in a room full of teenagers.

“Where are you from?” a blonde girl shot at me, her face eager and her eyes bright.

“New York”

“Ah, the big apple…why on earth did you move?” interrupted a short fat boy, before he sat himself on my desk.

“My dad just got a job at Bedford and Bremmer” Three mouths dropped at my reply, I already knew that my dad was working at a prestigious law firm.

“What do you think of town?” the blonde girl continued, shooting a scathing look at the fat boy.

“Uh,” I hesitated “It’s really picturesque” I hurried, as I tried to avoid direct eye contact with any of them. I hadn’t formed an opinion on Berrystone yet, picturesque seemed like a sure way not to insult anyone.

“Take your seats now please” sounded a strong, unyielding voice. It was Mr. Percival, a balding middle-aged man, dressed head to foot in tweed.

My classmates obeyed without question, a hushed silence descending into the room like a ghost.

Sitting at his desk, Mr. Percival pulled out a deep maroon file from his drawer, proceeding to a take a pencil from his inner pocket; He began to call names, as tired voices replied drone-line with the word ‘Present’.

“Tristan, Lancaster?” Mr. Percival’s voice punctured every syllable in my name, a slight surprise in his voice that he had a new pupil.

“Present” I timidly replied, aware that all eyes in the room, asleep or not, were directed towards me.

The bell rang moronically into the room, a high-pitched scream emitting from a red metal disc on the wall. I knew in those seconds that I would have a headache by the end of the day. Oh joy - just what I need.

Today was Wednesday. My heart jumped when I realized English was first – my favourite subject.

Emily was already ushering me out of the classroom before I even had a chance to put my timetable away, chattering like a June bug once again.

The corridors were packed with students; I was being buffed left and right as Emily led me ardently to English.

The classroom was bathed in perfect golden sunlight shining in through the back wall- a giant window of clear glass that looked out onto the sports field.

The sidewalls were bookcases that reached up to the ceiling; every inch of shelf taken up by a collection of leather bound tomes, the vast works of great literary minds stood before me and I couldn’t help but feel a note of respect.

The class filed in, Emily shoved a blonde girl out of our way and sat me in a seat near the front.

As the class was still settling, I dug into my bag for the reading list and my books, “Othello” by William Shakespeare was at the top of the list, we had already covered this in detail at my old school, but I didn’t care. I enjoyed English more than any subject in the world; reading was an avid passion of mine, and the chance to sharply question and analyze works by writers never slipped past me.

A tall woman with auburn hair swept into the room, her hair flailing wildly behind her. Miss Murray was incredibly well structured, like a live teacher version of Jessica Rabbit, her waist was tiny, but her upper body size was far past that of an ordinary’s woman’s’. As soon as she entered the room, I felt every man except myself sit up in their chairs.

“Good morning class. Oh, you must be Tristan?” her voice was deep and feminine, much like the way she sauntered over to me.

“Yes, I am” I replied, fully aware that my face was turning red.

“I doubt you’ll need your books, you can have a grace period, I don’t expect you to be able to participate in the analysis this morning” she continued in earnest, it sounded patronizing, but I could tell that she was trying to be friendly. “So if you would just like to take notes?” she suggested and I nodded obediently.

“Now, if you all did the reading, like I asked you to, you should have no trouble taking part in today’s discussion” she stated as she overlooked the class, her eyes were eager and searching. “Jealousy clearly is the tool that Iago uses to undo Othello. But what's his motivation? What reason does Iago give for destroying his superior officer?”

“Race?” A confident, questioning voice from behind me interjected

“Good Nancy, we can't overlook race. Anyone else care to contribute?”

“Cassio has my place. Twix my sheets, he’s done my office. He was passed over for promotion. Cassio was picked instead and people were saying that Othello slept with his wife,” a manly, well-spoken voice with a slight English accent sounded from the back. Miss. Murray’s face lit up with satisfaction; nervously I put my hand up.

“Yes Tristan, is something wrong?” she enquired. Every head in the room turned to me, looking at me expectantly.

“Oh no, I just wanted to contribute” I replied, suddenly regretting putting my hand up.

“Oh” Miss. Murray said, looking stunned, “Well, if you think you can, by all means please do” she continued skeptically.

“Well, uh, he sort of admits himself that his motives are... spurious” I gulped, remembering how to breathe, “He, um, he does things because he…he enjoys them. It's like he's not, not really a person. He's like, the dark half of Othello himself.” I finished, taking a quick glance around the room. Everyone’s mouths were agape, feeling like a scolded child; I sank deep into my chair.

“Tristan, really very astute. Please, feel free to contribute as much as you want” she complimented; causing me to glow slightly, it was clear to me I had not lost my knack for English.

The rest of the morning went blissfully well, discovering that I was ahead in all my subjects gave me the edge to impress all my teachers, a bit geeky, but it’s always better to have a teacher on side I concluded as I described in vivid detail Freud’s theory of psychosexual development.

I quickly began to adjust to being in a new school. Emily introduced me to her boyfriend Jake, who was about a foot taller than me, with long shaggy golden hair. His skin was a natural tan, with the odd freckle decorating his arms. He promised to keep me company in History and he also promised Emily he wouldn’t let me slip over on the way there. A reputation for being a klutz already? I thought to myself, slightly embarrassed; Great

History was dull. Weimar Germany bored me uncontrollably, we had already covered this at my old school, once was definitely enough. Jake kept me slightly entertained, occasionally playing scissors, paper & stone with me. He kept winning. I took to day dreaming and twining my hair to pass the time, along with the occasional doodle on my book.

As Jake walked me to lunch, a knot of unfathomable nerves formed in my stomach, tightly twisting and stretching. I felt sick.

As we got to the lunchroom, Jake pulled me by the arm to the right and out of the side door, the sudden cold hit me like a train causing me to jump backwards and wind myself.

Hardly breathing I enquired, “What… are…we… doing?” I managed, before being able to catch my breath and stand upright once again.

“The gang never eats inside, we go to the quad” Jake replied before picking up my bag and handing it to me. How polite.

“I’m not sure about breaking the rules on my first day”.

“We’re not. Its within the rules, we’re just the only people that eat there.” Jake replied, before once again starting to walk. His big feet clomped down the corridor; he didn’t carry his weight well. I had to speed-walk to keep up with the great strides his legs were capable of.

We turned the corner, before me stood four stone pillars being consumed with various plant life placed evenly on the corners of a square made of paving slabs. In the centre was a raised square which plaid host to a cherry blossom tree, unseasonably in full bloom. The delicate blossoms looked like pink snow upon the tree, the occasional breeze sending them down to the world, a gift from cruel winter.

Jake sat at the base of the tree, pulling his lunch out from his bag two hands entwined around his chest, before Emily popped her head around and kissed him softly on the lips. How sweet. How romantic.

They looked so different, opposites must definitely attract, Emily’s five foot three inch height, to Jake’s six foot six inch. Her chocolate brown curls to his warm honey straight hair.

“Trist, you’re breaking the rules on your first day? Shame on you” Emily joked; I glared at Jake before sitting cross legged beside them.

“Dreadfully sorry I’m late” came a familiar voice, a manly, well-spoken voice which had the slightest tinge of English, “Had to stop in the Cafeteria for a salad.”

I turned my head, to address whoever was speaking to us. Standing before me was the most beautiful man I had ever seen, his features were handsome and well sculpted, and his skin was milky pale - just like mine. His hair was a deep black, lighter than mine, but still dark. It was cut stylishly just below his ears, layered, with no visible parting and stylish gel spikes which made him look slightly university student rather then High school student.

His body was slender, but his tight t-shirt revealed that he had muscles a Greek god would be proud to have. He towered high above me, standing at approximately 6ft 4” his mere presence oozed masculinity laced with careful elegance and grace.

“Oh, please excuse my lack of manners” he apologized, looking down at me, “I’m Nick. Nick Hobbs” he swept into a bow jokingly, locking eyes with me. Nick’s eyes were a pure emerald green, they caught me in their spell and held me for what seemed like hours, and to my horror…my face seemed to boil as I blushed, a deep crimson.