A Witch's Curse (4 page)

“
What happened in it?”

“
It was not so much what happened when I was sleeping. When I woke up, I had the searing sensation that someone hit me in the face. That’s not normal, is it?”

She gave him a look of concern, more for his level of intelligence than predicament.

“
Don’t worry,” he said. “It wasn’t aggressive, it was more like a dog’s paw scraping against my nose. It was still an odd feeling.”

“
Maybe it was a ghost trying to come in contact with your dreamscape before you woke up,” Rose said.

“
Is that supposed to be a joke?”

“
Kind of.”

“
Oh. Well. That’s. Funny.” After the two moments of silence which followed had passed, she felt this was an inappropriate comment. “I mean, that’s way weird.”

Rose ate her cereal, thinking about confessing to Damian everything that had happened. Telling one of the closest people in her life that she was a sleep walker was the worst thing she could think of. Her Dad would not react well to the dysfunction of such an ailment, and would put bars over her windows and a heavy steel lock to keep the entranceway fastened. He would be well intentioned, but that scenario was not something she needed to see come to life.

Besides, the reasons behind her night promenades were too personal to share with anyone at this point. Even if she could not figure out what they were just yet.

Her father picked up a newspaper from the center of the table. He had always strived to keep up with current events.

Though he was one of the most well natured men Rose could ever hope to meet, let alone be fathered by, he had an odd and more or less morbid interest in scientific news reporting the new ways in which humanity could meets its demise.

He could converse about the likelihood of an ecological collapse as a result of global warming, and combine it with a high dosage of statistical theories describing imminent destruction of the earth’s populace by an asteroid in a few short years from now, and while throwing out these apocalyptic and macabre details, would have no issue with finishing his mashed potatoes.

“
Look at the name of the idiot running for mayor. Karen Chesterfield.”

It was then he bowed his head in slight shame. Even though they both had an equal level of contempt for the second parent, there was still that inherent sense of expected admiration men and women, boys and girls of all ages, are supposed to feel for a Mom. Even though they lacked respect for her, most days they at least pretended to try and act as if she was not as contentious as she had been in their past.

“
At least it’s not Karen Lynch,” Rose said.

“
Sorry,” he began.

“
Don’t be.”

“
Got it,” Rose said, sitting up and taking a hold of her purse. She kissed her Dad on the cheek and made way to the door. “I’ll see you later.”

“
You forgot one thing.”

She turned around, and he lifted up an arm. It was a millisecond before she saw him throwing her car keys in the air. She caught them and smiled in thanks. He did not take his eyes off her, nor did he even concentrate on the paper or his breakfast.

By the look in his eyes, Rose could tell that he was suspecting her of keeping a secret.

She parked in front of the school, making sure to lock her doors after seeing a group of kids who looked as if they had all just escaped from a prison riot passing by her vehicle. She got out and began approaching the building, before finding out she was early. Most students would be happy to be anything but truant, but she had learned over time that, unless she was with her group of friends it was better to avoid human contact as much as possible, since the odds of being picked on were inevitable, particularly by other girls.

Large groups of people were hanging out on the lawn in front of the building. Every major clique was here. The poverty liners, a group of people she had once been a part of during her freshman year. She felt sorry for them, and sometimes found herself racked with apology since the day her father had since been able to buy her fashionable clothes, therefore removing her from their insolvent group.

The Snobs were also out and about, giving angry looks to anyone nearing them who happened to not live up to their standards in any way. The Snobs were also sometimes called The Whisperers because of their tendency to lean in and say things into one another’s ears whenever a person different from them walked into their premises.

The steroid users were congregating together, most likely discussing which brand of muscle milk energy drinks they had consumed that morning to prepare for weight lifting, even though actual body building would not begin in any of the PE classes until a week was out and all of the Freshman had been trained to safely use the equipment.

The Loners could never be seen. The smart ones hid in obscure areas on campuses, whether it be behind faculty administration compounds or in the library, the one open space where at least blatant violence was not as probable. Rose identified more with the loners, even though she rarely had to hide in any place, except her studies.

Rose was not the least popular person, far from it. Most liked her, but the tormentors that had it out for her never cut her any breaks.

Such as the Cheerleaders. They were an offspring of the Snobs and Whisperers, or at least distant cousins. There were three whom she loathed, and each of them were together on the wide lawn in front of the campus.

Gina Radcliff was standing near the school’s maple tree beside the cafeteria, the sun‘s beams filtering through the branches and lighting spots of land at the trio’s feet. She carried her pompoms on the outside of her backpack at all times, so as to let it be known which social class she was a part of. Gina was obsessed with popularity, makeup, money, the top forty hits on music charts, and boys, but not just any type of boy. The only guys she would even give the time of day to were those who were wealthy.

It was as if she could copulate no more than with ones as rude as her. Rose tried to think of vicious insects that could only perform coitus with other disgusting bugs.

Then there were Gina’s cronies. Emma Banks was the first, a slender brunette who said she had plans of one day being famous. She never specified what her chosen occupation would be, unlike some girls who claimed to yearn for the spotlight in Hollywood. She said that her goal was to be famous, feeling that was enough to describe her future career plans.

Jessica Faulkner was the third person in their elite assemblage. Tall and covered in makeup, any ounce of attraction guys may have had for her was shut down after conversing with her. Her rapid-fire use of cuss words and vulgar slogans could make an illiterate life long wrestler’s vocabulary seem eloquent in comparison.

The three were looking at Rose as she approached the front hall. She put up her guard when noticing them approaching her. At first she considered going inside to run away, but then decided that she was ready now for confrontation as ever. Splitting from the scene would have been a sign of weakness, and that was something she could not risk. If something so obvious were shown, their attacks in the coming semesters would be unmerciful.

“
You’re wearing all black,” Jessica said with a snort.

“
You expect me to believe that’s an insult?” Rose asked.

“
Trent Reznor is so over,” Emma proclaimed. “What are you trying to do, bring the nineties back? Get real. You look like a groupie for Motley Crue.”

“
Emma,” Rose said, “your hair looks like you streaked it with clumps of mud. Are you naturally brunette, or are you just a red head who hasn’t washed?”

“
We hate you,” Gina said, as Emma stood back, looking more confused than insulted, which disappointed Rose. “We’re going to make your year a living hell.”

“
How’s your Dad, freak?” Jessica chimed in. “I’d ask you how your Mom’s doing, but then I figured out that, oh yeah, you don’t have one!”

Rose wanted to jump forward and rip an eyebrow off, but refrained. She decided to get them back at a less noticeable time. Involving oneself in a fight on the first day would not be conducive to being liked.

“
I’ll see you later,” Rose said, trying to repress the anger from coming out in her voice. Before she opened one of the doors, she turned around.

“
Oh, and Gina?”

The three girls looked at her now, obnoxiously satisfied.

“
You’re a camel spider.” She said this before turning around and going to class, happy to have remembered the name of the ugly bug after all.

4

Home economics was her first scheduled class. The room was a spacious white chamber, with tons of kitchen supplies hanging in every corner, despite how clutter was not an issue. The class was lit up by the streams of sunlight pouring in through the wide windows overlooking most of the grounds.

Her first two minutes in this class came with both good and bad news. The good news was that two of her friends, James Klepasky and Melinda Lowenstein, were there as well. Melinda had known Rose a long time. James, on the other hand, had possessed a friendship with her for a short year, and he always struck her as surprising. His claim to avoiding beatings on a constant basis was the fact that he wrote for the school newspaper, and did so often with popularity. Rose did not always appreciate his articles, but they did seem to gain him some respect in a few circles.

When choosing groups, an activity that was supposed to be done in a random raffle, they had manipulated the cards so as to sit next to each other at the same table, so as to be a team for the next quarter.

“
How did you do that?” Rose asked Melinda, leaning in and murmuring this in her ear when they had found their seats.

“
Easy,” Melinda said with a mischievous smile. “We pocketed the actual cards, and instead of reading the true names, we chose who we wanted.”

“
You can thank me for that genius maneuver,” James said.

“
That means there are two people who will just sort of be standing up there,” Rose said, shifting her gaze across the room.

At first, the three felt bad about having done this for a split second, until noticing that the two left out were Jessica Faulkner and Emma Banks. The bad news was how the three blue and gold wearing, upbeat torturers were also in the same period. Rose looked at it positively, because at least she had friends who provided a sort of shield from her rivals.

There were two other kids standing at the forefront, waiting for their names to be called and not having that wish come true. Rose would later decide that the evil cheerleaders had decided to do the same thing as they had, which in turn explained the other couple left out.

Grady Bell, Lake Pine High’s quarterback, was staring directly at Rose with a smile. She caught a glimpse of him and then looked away.

The assignment for that day, a semi-grueling undertaking given by Ms. Locke to everyone first thing in the morning, was to make banana bread and chocolate cookies. They would shape them after mixing their own dough.

At one point while immersed in the project, Rose caught James winking at the cheerleaders.

“
Ew. You don’t find them attractive, right?”

“
No,” he said. “I just know it disgusts all three of those chicks when a gothic like me tries to flirt with them. Deep down I know they want me worse than even you do.”

“
In your sick dreams, James. Melinda over here might be willing.”

“
Shut up,” Melinda said, rolling her eyes as she put the cookie sheet in the oven. “When I graduate, I’m not going to marry someone whose idea of a good date is a night staying inside and listening to heavy metal. The man I’ll have put a ring on my finger is going to be a CEO or a lawyer or a veterinarian or something.”

James said with a smile, “I’ll have you know that Liz Brosnan’s in love with me.”

“
Really?” Rose and Melinda said in unison. Rose thought about how beautiful Liz Brosnan was.

“
Well, she has a crush on me. She doesn’t know it yet.”

“
Right,” Melinda said. “The same way that Jackie Calster loved the poetry you wrote about her, until she read it.”

“
Jackie’s restraining order’s been lifted,” James said.

“
Or how Melanie Thompson loved the skimpy dress you bought her until you gave it to her,” Rose said.

“
Sure, she told her father that a weird boy at her school gave her a hooker’s dress, big deal. Even after a death threat, I’m still going strong. Okay, so I haven’t had the best luck with women.”

Rose began to feel slight contrition about picking on James, even if it was all in good fun. “I’m sure your day of being a ladies man is coming up. No offense, but if you start asking them out, you have a better chance than you did with the preps and the socially obsessed.”

“
I don‘t think you stand a chance in hell,” Melinda said, washing a dirty plate in their work station’s sink.

“
I should,” James said, deep in thought after hearing Rose’s suggestion. “I stay away though. Most of them have boyfriends.”

“
Break ups happen all the time,” Rose said. “If they’re seeing someone, they’ll say so, and if they just had a split, you’re in luck.”

James said something back, but she could not concentrate. Rose felt a burning sensation on the back of her neck. It was not overpowering or even literal, but rather intuitive. She turned around and saw Gina staring at her with a look one would give to a murderous psychopath put on death row. Rose felt the urge to get her back.