Grey Days

Chapter Four: The Blackwood Family

Zena always used to tell me that first impressions aren't the best impressions.

But what if your first impression your fist to her jaw?

And a whole lotta blood...

It all happens so fast that I can't even react. She calls me a broad and says that I was going to pay for that, and before I can laugh in her face, she has me slammed against a wall.

She moved so swiftly, no human should have that speed...

Her breath is cold against my skin as I try to break free. Of course, she doesn't know that this wasn't the first time I'm being been strangled. Or perhaps she does, as her eyes fill with even when she sees the marks on my skin. I kick her—I don't know where, but at least it gets her off me.

Now, I'm not known for being a calm and reasonable person. I'm hotheaded (I'm a Fire Witch for God's sake!) and I will punch if you're mean to my girls.

So, I do the only plausible thing and in a matter of seconds, my fist has collided with her jaw. I hear a crack and then I see the blood. It trickles down her chin, in small droplets. The strange part is that she doesn't even seem mad; she grins and something wild flashes in her eyes.

She jumps at me and we scramble down the hallway. A crowd has formed, and somebody tries to pull her off me.

"Ingrid, stop! You're gonna kill the girl!"

Well, whoever this bystander was, I don't want his help. I am perfectly capable of demolishing this girl on my own.

Somehow, I manage to roll her over and was now on top.

"You scamp!" I yell. She grabs my neck, and for a moment I think she was going to snap my neck—or kiss me, 'cause who knows—and she throws me aside. I hit the wall, feeling fingers wrap around my arm. I recoil, stumbling to my feet, blurry eyed.

"Seriously, Ingrid," someone says. "Ma and Pa can't keep bailing you out of trouble."

"Ugh, she started it," Ingrid says, to whoever was trying to help me.

"Oh, don't be so pompous," I say.

"You wanna talk about pompous when you just called me a bimbo?"

I look around at the few students who had watched, not being able to make out their faces. They're blobs of white—and slightly less white—skin, in brightly coloured dresses and sweaters. I blink, about a dozen times, and everything comes into view.

"What, you wanna go next?" I scowl. I don't say this to anyone in particular, perhaps to all the five kids that were watching. I'm sure I could easily defeat them, probably by burning them on accident.

They scatter and I turn on my heel to face this Ingrid girl. That's when I see who was trying to help me. It was that swine, the one from before.

"Oh, it's you," I scowl.

"Yes, it's me," he says. "If I had known that you were my new foster sister, I would've been much nicer."

Oh God, I'm not nearly as smart as I think I am. How did I not recognise them as siblings? The same dark raven hair, pale skin—though she's even paler than I am. The high cheekbones, straight and long noses, pointed chins and sharp jawlines, too. Though their eyes are different; hers a striking green and his are a misty grey.

"Ew, I have to come live with you?"

"Don't sound too happy," he says. "Regan Blackwood, what's your name?" He holds his hand out to me, as if I'm going to shake it.