Nightingale

Chapter 6

The next morning, Fable woke up bright and early. She leaped out of bed like an excited child, and flung back the curtains to reveal a cold, but crisp, sunny day. As the morning light seeped into the room, she felt its lovely warmth kiss her cheeks and give her skin a healthy, golden glow. Immediately, she rolled up her sleeve to check her wrist, and was relieved to see the mark was still there. She reached for her hairbrush, and began to release the knots in her thick, brown hair, giving it a gorgeous sheen and silk-like texture. Fable then walked to her mirror and examined her face. She looked naturally bonny, but today, she felt the urge to enhance her big, blue eyes with a lick of mascara and a touch of eyeshadow. When she was done admiring the fluttery, black lashes, she decided it still wasn't enough, and proceeded to paint her lips with a red-pink lipstick and rouged her cheeks with a corresponding blush. Wow – she thought to herself –I am a breath-taking beauty this morning. She slipped on her school uniform and headed downstairs.

When she reached the bottom stair, she suddenly noticed her mother sat on the kitchen floor with a cup of coffee. She was gripping it with both hands, and was shaking.

"Mum... Are you alright? I... I'm sorry for my behaviour last night. I want to say sorry to you and auntie. Will you forgive me? Can I have a hug?" whimpered Fable, a little surprised to see anyone up at this hour, and even more surprised at how desperate she sounded for her mother's forgiveness.

Her mother looked up and smiled at her daughter weakly. "My, my" she said. "Isn't my little girl a stunner and so grown-up. Of course you can. Come here."

She beckoned Fable to sit by her side, and the two of them cuddled together on the floor.

"Go wake your aunt up, love" said her mother after a moment. "She was angry with you last night but I told her not to be. I think we are all a bit confused about what happened last night, and we don't even know where that old woman went. She said she had to smoke a pipe or something, but she never returned. Now we aren't sure if we were both just dreaming it all up. God knows what was in that tea." The pair both laughed together, and Fable stood up, offering her mum a hand.

"I'll go up then" said Fable.

The stairs creaked loudly as she ran up the stairs. She paused for a moment before her aunt's door, feeling anxious to knock, but followed through with apprehension. Silence. She knocked again. This time there was an answer.

"Come in," a low voice answered.

Fable opened the door incompletely, and stuck her head into the room. Her aunt was lying in bed in last night's make-up, the eyeliner smudged across her cheeks ."You look a mess" poked Fable, trying to break the ice. Vanessa smiled.

"Yes, I know, missy. And you look like a tart" teased Vanessa.

"Thanks." replied Fable, sarcastically.

"Really though, how come you made such an effort for school?" asked Vanessa.

"No reason, really. Anyway I have to go soon, so I wanted to apologise real quick about last night. I didn't mean to shove you and act like a brat. I had a really crappy day and took it out on you – so, I'm sorry." blurted out Fable, apologetically.

"Oh god, don't remind me. I acted like such an incompetent fool. I'm sorry too. Just forget about what I said about that woman. You were right. She was probably just another pretender. She was talented though. I still don't know how she did it..." contemplated Vanessa. "Oh well, off you go."

Fable felt her aunt was just saying that, and was still in complete awe of the old woman's magical powers. She didn't want to tell her aunt that she had in fact met the witch in the strangest of circumstances, and had even made a pact with her to turn her into a bird. It was quite preposterous. It had to be kept a secret from everyone she knew. That's why she had to wait to try out her new power. She had to pretend everything was normal and go about her usual school day, and wait patiently until the evening.

Fable slung her school bag over her shoulder and stuck a single headphone into her right ear, and began listening to music. It was time to leave the house and meet her friends in the usual spot by the chestnut tree. Christie and Lucia were standing chatting, and laughing at some memes on their phones. They looked up as Fable approached, alerted by the crunching sounds of shoes trampling over fallen leaves.

"Good morning, sunshine!" called Christie, with a grin on her face. "How come you're all dolled up now?"

"Oh my god" gasped Lucia "She looks amazing."

Fable blushed. She didn't often get compliments from the teens her own age, despite being a very pretty girl.

"Thanks, guys," smiled Fable. "My aunt called me a tart... It's not that much make-up though is it?"

"Nah. I wear way more than that. Come here, let's take a selfie" said Christie, linking arms with Fable.

The three of them kicked their way through the layers of leaves merrily, and joked and giggled all the way to school, where they eventually separated and went to their morning classes. Fable never cared much for Wednesdays, as there was no literature class to look forward to or literature teacher to fawn over. The first class of the day was none other than cookery. What a joke cookery class was – thought Fable, as she made her way into the kitchen. She hung up her school jumper on the rack, and slipped on an apron over her thin, white shirt. While she was taking her jumper off, she heard a few whistles from some boys in the back, and this made her want to curl up and hide under a table. She hated immature boys. She was maybe even starting to regret the extra effort she'd made with her make-up, if it was inspiring such a reaction from those idiots. Today the class was making brownies, which made a change from the usual pasta salads their teacher prescribed, and Fable was actually enjoying stirring the dark mixture while thinking her thoughts. What would happen to her clothes if she turned into a bird? Would she be left stark naked like those men in werewolf movies. How would she know how to fly – would it come naturally, or with practice? Most importantly, where would she go to make this transformation? The woods were usually quiet, but still, there were walkers, riders and occasionally strange, dangerous people hanging out there. But if she went at night... there wouldn't be anyone at all. The woods covered a large expanse, so it was unlikely she would be spotted on the off chance there was. I better text my mum – thought Fable, surreptitiously sliding a phone out of her back pocket when the teacher wasn't looking.

Going to stay over at Christie's tonight – don't wait up :) xxx

She knew her guardians wouldn't care enough to check. She was a good girl and they would take her word for it. Fable continued to stir, humming happily as she did so, eagerly wishing away the rest of the daylight hours...