𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋 | lady lesso

one

I don't hate my mother. Not at all. She raised me to be a brilliant, strong minded, and creative child. She herself was born brilliant; born bad and a little bit mad (as she prefers to phrase it). She can, unfortunately, forget that I was supposed to start my education at sixteen and also be extremely harsh in situations that do not require it. 

She's a gorgeous woman who 'killed' a couple of Dalmatians and turned them into a coat. Her hair (which is one of her best traits, but remains uninherited by me) is half black, half white. And she is truly evil. Cruella DeVil was not ready to raise a child though, and would have served better as the countries most cherished designer. 

I place my black, manicured nails on my suitcase - which doesn't have nearly enough room for everything I wanted to bring with me, but true evil must make sacrifices. Besides, the one good thing my mother did was teach me to use my magic from a young age; so crafting materials is a simple spell away. 

I can, of course, perform more complex spells, but that's beside the point. This, however, does come with the expense of draining what magic I do posses since my full potential remains unlocked. 

I was informed by my mother that the school's choice of transport is airborne and so I have mentally prepared myself for such distasteful travel. However, I won't voice my complaints as my mother has come to see me away.

"Child."

"Mother." Her eyes narrow and she fixes me with a stare I have familiarised myself with over the past eighteen years - nearing nineteen. 

"Remember the alternative choice remains open for you. Whilst you're there do not disappoint me or tarnish our family name. And for the last time, do not let them force you into that despicable clothing."

"Of course, mother." I nod, keeping my expression neutral.

"Use this to your advantage. If I had it my way you wouldn't be attending."

"Thank you, mother, and I will. Do try to get over whatever feud you and Artie have. Don't kill each other whilst I'm away.." I smile slightly, knowing that I'll miss the boys and the manor dearly. 

"I wont make any promises - he's been particularly irritating recently. Now be gone, will you." And with that, she stalks off, dogs padding behind her in adoration. Family bonding over. Thank all the spotted dogs.

Her dual-coloured hair was but a dot in the distance when the sky started to go red. A dark, bloody red that has the full moon battling for dominance. I'm not a fan of colour myself, but at just the sight of a red so deep I can't help but be thrilled.

A shadow peeked its head through the gates, eyes staring at my soul. He looks homeless and put me at unease. I was never informed of a shady looking figure that would signal my arriving transportation. I move closer to the iron and it speeds down the drive. 

I push open the gates, case following after me amidst the darkness. "How peculiar, let's get this over with." I sigh and shout at the smoky character at the end of the drive. "Well? Come on, then you imbecile!-"

My words are cut off by talons gripping my shoulders; definitely ripping my dress. I groan and try to get a better look at it as I'm lifted from the ground. It's all bones. I find it rather inspiring, actually. I'll have to make something later. I grip my suitcase tighter as we ascend into the clouds. 

It flies for about half a minute when the clouds part and I see it. The two schools. One is brightly coloured, round dome roofs that reflect sunlight. Soft clouds float around it - the sun shining off them in the distance. This I identify as the School for Good. 

The other school, however, I find much more interesting to look at. Its roofs are jagged points, so sharp that it looks as if I could cut myself on them. A giant grey mass consumes the castle - blocking out the sun and its light. So this was the School for Evil. I'm going to enjoy it here. I just know it.

The bird starts to fly towards the bright coloured school, and a churning feeling starts in my stomach. "I swear if you drop me at that school, I will hunt you down, kill your family, and feed them to the wolves whilst you watch." It seems to change its mind as our course changes to the darker school.

A vast grey body of water lies by the school, and soon, the undisturbed surface is a mess of ripples. People drop like stones from the sky. "You better not drop me in the water either. Put me on the bridge-" The bird starts to gather more height as it turns to the bridge, spiralling until I'm dropped alongside the others.

The water is coming up on me fast now. I clutch the suitcase tighter and brace for the landing when I'm caught again by dark talons. The bird glides down close to the ground before releasing me. I land on two feet - scuffing my Converse, but oh well. "Thank god. Farewell, dear bird." I celebrate as it flaps away.

The bridge has quite the effect on how the School for Evil looks - before it was scary, now it's spine chilling. I smile. I walk through the front entrance, which is strangely guarded by large wolves, and continue to move through the corridors to the main hall. They glance uncertainly at each other as I pass them by. 

The other students are filing in from the water bound entrance - dripping and dirty. I cast a spell to make sure my hair is back to normal and my dress is fixed; I can't be looking windswept on my first day. First impressions are everything. Clearly, these children know nothing. Or they don't care.

I look around, admiring the schools architecture.

A tall woman stands in the centre of the room. She has red hair with a triangular shape to it, and I notice her walk is more like a lazy stroll. Her whole figure is rather bewitching. I also noticed the antique cane she swings around on occasion. She's watching us all - deciding who will be the star student this year.

Her body turns as if she senses my stare. I straighten up as her eyes meet mine, my head tilting to the side with a smile. They're as blue as the ocean - an ocean I would gladly allow to drown me. An ocean surely full of secrets and danger. 

Her cheekbones are defined and direct my eyes straight to her lips, plump and glossy. And then there's her skin , the perfect porcelain to compliment her curly red locks. Her style is also attractive. It could use a little more tailoring or my fine handiwork, but it's not bad.

The only thing I'm reminded of is a quote I read somewhere a long time ago: 'art disturbs the comforted and comforts the disturbed'. I'm definitely comforted. This woman is a masterpiece. Da Vinci, anyone? I realise how long I've been staring; so has she by the looks of it. Her pretty lips curl into a sadistic smirk.

I should have attended this school so much sooner.