Page 10 of Poison

My stomach decides now is the time to protest at the lack of food, growling so loudly it could be heard through the whole house, no doubt. I growl at myself, I should have had more to eat at the party, but how was I supposed to know that she would do what she did?

Well, no use crying over spilt milk, is there? With a huff, I grab my bags sitting by the front entrance and trudge up the stairs. Doors line the hall at the top of the stairs, and my chest clasps in on itself again—this place is made for loads of people. I wonder if I ask Miss Furnell, would she be able to find me a box room or something? Something scrapes across the floor downstairs, and I jump out of my skin as I spin around with a hand to my chest, nearly toppling head-first down the stairs.

I knew this place would be haunted. “You hear that, Casper? I know you’re here but can you give me some peace for one night?” I throw out into the open and chuckle when something crashes to the floor.

Was that a friendly reply, I wonder? I hoist my bags up again onto my shoulder and make my way along the bland coloured hallway. Seriously, if my aunt was in charge of the decorations she would have had flamboyant colours everywhere! But this has to be the beigiest colour beige I have ever seen. Opening the first door I come to, I can’t not smile a little. The room beyond is huge, it has to be three times the size of my room at my aunt’s house.

My limbs feel heavy as the effects of earlier crash over me—this one will do just fine and, honestly, I don’t really want to go and explore the other end of the house anyway. I shuffle through the room, my legs getting heavier by the second. There are a TV and sofa on one wall, and on the other wall there is another door leading to another room or closet maybe. I dump my bags on the bed and have a look through the door, relieved to find an en-suite.

I push my bags off the bed onto the floor with a thud and face-plant on to the mattress. Within seconds, my eyes are closing.

* * *

My neck is killing me, and I try to roll over to get myself more comfortable when something starts screeching from somewhere near where I dumped my bags. I scramble off the bed, nearly landing in a heap on the floor, before I grab the bag that’s currently vibrating across the thick, soft, dark-grey carpet. Yanking it open, I find a tablet having an episode with the screen flashing—What the heck is this?The screen flashes as the tune begins to pick up in volume. Then words begin to flash on the screen, making my brows furrow.

Good morning, Poison!

Today is the start of a brand-new day, please find in your emails: a list of your lesson plans and a map around the grounds. Just remember not to stray on your own or you might not make it back. Please attend your first lesson promptly, Mrs. Havendoom is waiting for you.

I open up the email app on the tablet and there it is, an email with a link to my lesson plan and map.

Monday AM:Clan History

Monday PM:Battle Class

Tuesday AM:Charms/Incantations

Tuesday PM:Witch Origins

Wednesday AM:Healing/Advance Practice

Wednesday PM:Shifting

Thursday AM:Potions Class

Thursday PM:Nature Basics & Apothecary

Friday AM:Magic 101

Friday PM:Familiars & Care

** Please be advised Elemental Control is an elective class on a Saturday on the training field**

Damn! I know my aunt made me attend all family functions even though she would rather I didn’t, but she only had me there to save face. To show she’s accepting of me even with me having no abilities, but what people don’t know is I was hauled up in my room the rest of the time and only allowed out for certain things. I’ve seen some of the clan witches and their familiars but do shifters have them? But looking at this schedule I feel seriously unprepared for most of this.

Clan history, I know will be one of my strongest subjects but the others… how do they expect me to survive Shifting and Magic 101? Let alone have me attend Battle Class, what the hell is wrong with these people? I give it a day before I’m in a coffin because this place has taken its next victim.

Another ping comes through on the tablet, I look down to find a message flashing above a countdown timer on the device, one that I didn’t set, but I know that whoever issues these things is telling me to get my butt in gear. I read over the message.

Also please check your wardrobe for all academy issued uniform.

I rush over to the wardrobe, disgusted that they know my size as I pull a couple of hangers out of it. They’re filled with a perfectly ironed skirt in the burgundy tartan colours of the school, with a simple white shirt, and a navy blazer with the crest over the breast pocket.

After the quickest shower in the world and brushing my teeth, I rip the white fluffy towel off myself and throw it over my shoulder, pushing my arms into the shirt. I quickly do the buttons up and pull the skirt over my head, even though I don’t like the idea of having to wear one. My aunt always told me to avoid creases to pull it over my head. Next, the blazer is on and I feel like the clothes have their own magical signature, like they’re trying to suffocate me because they know I shouldn’t be here.

The tick of the numbers on the tablet are really starting to make me want to smash it.

Wait!

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