Carmiabell: The Black Apple

Chapter 15

Alma Umbermoon White was an early bird. I mean, I thought I was early, but she made it an art form. She was one of the twelve students rewarded for showing up to school before the sun even thought about rolling out of bed. If "constructive studying" was just a fancy term for flirting, then the principal had it nailed down.

The last time I woke up before sunrise was on the previous year's annual Neporian holiday-not just because it was my favorite day of the year but also because I couldn't wait to show off my new dress. Who knew the next time I'd be waking up so early I'd be spying on someone like a full-blown psychopath? They say wonders shall never end, but I think my life was just a series of bizarre surprises.

As I peered through my window, the weakly glowing liquid in the liquid-timer had barely struck a third. If that thing wasn't up to something, I sure was. The night seemed to be extending its roots and burrowing into the day's solitude. At least, that was how it felt. I squinted towards Mr. Tom's roof-no sign of life. The gloom wrapping his house made it clear: no one was awake.

I couldn't see my other neighbors' houses from where I stood, but who would be awake after midnight? Not even Mrs. Tuth, a vampire, my newly discovered senior-year Alchemy teacher, was up to anything, I hoped. Still, one of my neighbors.

The relief of knowing I had two close targets to spy on at school was almost enough to mask my anxiety. But there were still loose ends to tie up. My black spot-the alley-was empty. I squinted, half-determined to bolt at the slightest twitch in the shadows. Nothing. Just me and the oppressive darkness.

With a sigh, I returned to my bed, battling the restlessness clawing at my mind. I could fool everyone, but I couldn't fool myself. No way was I getting any sleep while knowing that I could be under an ancient curse that could blow up at any moment, leaving me with some dramatic illness. So far, I was still in one piece. Nothing about my body seemed out of whack, just that persistent unease I was starting to suspect was a side effect of poking my nose where it clearly didn't belong. My skin? Still fair and ginger, thank you very much.

Maybe the curse was insidious, creeping in like a venom that would devour me without my knowledge and leave me hanging by one foot in the afterlife-if I was lucky. I shook my head, knowing that my best friend Ya (pessimism) had a knack for the dramatic, but this time she could be right.

To clear the air, I needed to research medieval diseases. I bet I could dig up some juicy tidbits before leaving school on Monday.

As the first light of dawn peeked through my curtains, I could feel the sun calling to me. Everything was all set for my secret mission. For a low profile, I opted for a casual green skirt, a faded pink blazer with some missing buttons, and a pair of brown boots that made me feel like I could conquer the world-or at least my school.

I raced down the stairs to find my mother already awake. "You're up early today," she said, aware of my terrible concept of time.

"I want to catch up on some notes," I lied with a guilty smile that could put a Cheshire cat to shame.

"Okay then, Mrs. Books." she chuckled at her own broken humor.

"You should have breakfast." She pointed towards the dining table, where a feast fit for a queen awaited. Anything to avoid arguing with her ON A MONDAY when I had a SECRET MISSION to attend to.

Unlike other Mondays, my mother had prepared yet another culinary delight from my grandmother's recipe book. I could smell it from a mile away; the network of enticing aromas was practically yelling, "Eat me!"

"Do we have visitors?" The last thing I wanted was one of my mother's friends showing up, droning on about how school had changed me and what a perfect daughter I was-while I had a fish to catch.