Bruja

⠀↳⠀1.4

( F o u r )
2013

The harsh sound of a drill went off throughout the dormitory as red flashing lights seeped through the glass window above the door.

Graduation day.

For the longest, she has been waiting for this day to come.

Ever since she stepped foot through the doors of the Royal Crown Academy.

Ever since she started training to become an assassin—what they molded her to be.

Ever since she was put to the test to prove she was worthy enough to graduate.

Ever since she announced what her purpose was for attending.

Ever since she wanted revenge on the person who killed her parents.

Removing the blanket from her body one last time, she turned to her side to reach under the already-made bed and pulled out her sandals. She stood and slipped them on, the leather sending chills up her warm body as a gentle waker-upper.

After her hygienic morning routine in the bathroom, she went to her closet to retrieve her uniform. Displayed like a proud masterpiece was a disaster.

The second portion of the final left her red and black traditional dress a bloody, cut-up mess. Her leather boots needed polishing, her flower crown was missing some red roses and black leaves, and one of her fans had a split down the middle of the lace fabric.

She remembered one of the spells she learned was to help fix things, almost like it wasn't there before. It was handy when she fought in uniform and got scratched up pretty badly. While her body did the healing, her attire could not.

Looking at the dress, the crown, and the boots, she twisted her hands three times in front of her chest. On the third twist, she extended her hands enough to touch her elbows and pulled back, letting her middle fingers hook onto each other and release.

In front of her eyes, the dress began stitching together its tears and removing dried blood like disappearing ink. The lace of her fans combined into one design, and the blades shined like never before. Roses and black leaves grew on her crown, and her leather boots polished themselves. Seeing the mishaps disappear like it wasn't there before never got old.

Glancing at the glass window above the door, she saw the flashing red lights stopped.

A voice spoke through the speakers, "¡Treinta minutos!"

Thirty minutes. The seniors, including her, had thirty minutes to change into their uniforms and meet in the auditorium.

She packed her things the night before except for what she needed in the morning. After graduation, they were able to grab their belongings and leave. They weren't allowed to stay or come back unless it was for something serious. It was one of the reasons why the upper class never befriend the lower.

Grabbing her flower crown, she sat down at her vanity to begin her makeup. She made sure she put the crown on correctly without having any strands of dark hair poking out. She used white face paint as a base and black for the eyes. Switching between black and red, she would create her signature sugar skull design: a red rose on her chin, a black cross on her third eye with a spider web above it, red dots surrounding the black of her eyes, black lines to represent the teeth over her red lips, and a few other lines to fill in the spaces.