The Cursed

Chapter 2

Cassie

I woke to the soft glow of morning light filtering through the heavy curtains, casting long shadows across the unfamiliar room. For a moment, I sat still, my heart pounding in my chest as my mind scrambled to make sense of my surroundings. The bed was too soft, and the sheets didn't have that familiar vanilla scent. Then, like the slow unraveling of a dream, it all came rushing back. My parents abandoned me. I sat up and took in the room - the antique furniture, the shelves with strange looking objects, the dark wood paneling. This was my new reality. The door to the room creaked open, and Sophie stepped inside, her face bright. 

"Morning, Cassie. How'd you sleep?" she asked, her voice cheerful as if we'd been old friends. 

I managed a small smile, still disorientated. 

"Okay, I guess."

Before I could say anything else, my gaze caught something that almost caused me to collapse. Sophie reached her hand out towards the chair where she draped her sweater the night before, and to my disbelief, the sweater floated into the air, gliding across the room until it settled into her outstretched hand.

I scooted back on the bed as if cowering from an attacking snake, my heart racing. 

"How... how did you do that?" 

Sophie glanced at me with a puzzled expression. 

"You're kidding, right?" 

"No," I replied, my voice edged with panic. "I was about to ask you the same thing."

Sophie's eyes went wide, and she gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as though she had just realized something significant. 

"You don't know," she whispered, almost to herself, before quickly lowering her hand. "You don't know, do you?"

"Know what?" I asked, panic buzzing through my veins. 

She hesitated for a moment before leaning in further, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. 

"This is a school for magic." 

I stared at her, the words not fully registering. Then a burst of incredulous laughter escaped my lips. 

"Magic? You mean like this is a school for magicians?" I asked, still laughing at the absurdity of it all. 

But Sophie didn't join in. Her expression remained serious, even slightly offended. 

"Not magicians," she corrected gently. "We prefer the term spellcasters."

My laughter died away as I saw the earnestness in Sophie's eyes. 

"This has to be a dream," I muttered, shaking my head as if trying to wake myself up. "Magic isn't real."

Sophie tilted her head, her eyes narrowing with skepticism. 

"You've never done magic before? Not even by accident?"

"No," I insisted, feeling frustration. "Because it's not real." 

"You wouldn't be here if you weren't a spellcaster," she said. "The headmistress would have never let you in." I didn't say anything, just sat there. Sophie watched me, her expression softening. "I know it's a lot to take in, but I promise it's real. You're here because you have magic, even if you don't know it yet."

As I walked with Sophie walked through the labyrinth hallways of the school. The sound of our footsteps echoed off the stone walls, mingling with the low hum of the other students. The ancient hallways were alive with energy, filled with the excitement of students preparing for their first class of the day. I tried to focus on where Sophie was leading me, but my mind kept drifting, overwhelmed by the surrealness of the situation. Everywhere I looked, I felt eyes on me. Students paused mid-conversation to glance my way. I felt like a lab rat being scrutinized. Whispers followed me. A quiet murmur rippled through the crowd as we passed by.