#readyforabun

It sounded so bizarre to the girl. Witches? Those were just stories told to children, or stories of the past where the ignorance of people had led to the death of countless women accused of witchcraft. They didn't really exist.

Yet here she was, on her way to New Orleans because someone had come in contact with her mother after the story of what had happened to Charlie had gotten out, claiming she was a witch and her presence would be welcomed and encouraged at Ms. Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Women. When the men had come to take her, she was terrified. She was also angry. How could her mother let these complete strangers take her away?

Life can change over night. It could change in seconds, really. She didn't kill Charlie. It was a brain aneurism, they were being so demented, believing that she was a witch.

Though maybe she was starting to believe it herself. How else had someone so healthy suddenly died when they'd gone to do something that was supposed to be a symbol of love? Maybe witches did exist, and she needed to face the facts.

As she emerged from the car, the girl glanced at the tall building before her. It was huge, and it was beautiful. She barely had time to appreciate the architecture as she was ushered through the gate and into the building, eyes widened as she took in the long, elegant hallway leading to a grand staircase.

"Holy shit..." she breathed, hearing her bags placed down behind her and the men were gone. She was completely alone, in a foreign place, and she was a little scared.

"Hello?..." she called hesitantly, picking her bags up slowly as her eyes darted around nervously.

" What?"

The blonde broke her stare by shifting her eyes down to her hands as she nervously pulled at the threads of the shawl that was draped around her arms.  She often found herself staring at the older woman, she had no idea as to why..but she became hypnotized by the witch. Her wisdom spoke through to the swamp witch, and the fact she actually respected Misty rather than calling her a swamp rat had made the Cajun girl almost awe struck since kindness had been something Misty thought died at the stake with her.

"I - I.."

She searched for a reason to defend the impolite act she had just been caught in. Though the only reasons she could use to Justify her stare only made her stutter and turn red.

"I’m sorry Miss Cordelia I.."

Her darkly shaded eyes drifted from the floor up to the blonde’s face. The look that reflected off her deep blue hues spoke clearly as to why she was staring. She felt frozen in Cordelia’s gaze again, she hadn’t realized she had been holding her breath as chills shivered down her spine causing her to exhale a shallow breath.

"…I won’t do it again."

          Peering unto Miss Robichaux's Academy with a spiteful gaze, she mourned the Misty who once died there. Permanently wounded. How long had she been gone? Steps failed her until courage prompted the young woman to proceed forward in search of Zoe or Cordelia. The only figures worth her broken trust. These grounds were haunted by the spirit of a past soul; her own. And even so, the familiar setting appeared different. Closing her eyes for a brief moment, the world around her grew warmer.

          Opening her eyes to find herself within the exterior, her efforts to not break down into sorrow had failed. Biting down on her lower lip, her diminutive steps guided her only so far before sentiment had overwhelmed her.

                    ❝Help.❞ She spoke out softly, still unable to find her voice. The screams of her Hell still repeating in the depths of her conscience.

         Heels click down the stairs of the academy, smoke wafts behind the blonde while she makes her way into the kitchen. It's been a hard day of lounging, tweeting, and bitching for the starlet, so of course she needs a drink. Hands pull open cabinet after cabinet, soon a groan escapes her pink lips.