Rose Red - Sandwiches, Paint and Werewolves

Chapter 1 ~ Surprises aren't always nice

If you dont like swearing, tough.

First chapter.

Im jiggling in my seat.

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It came back three hours ago. Those binds didnt work either. They were the last ones in the book. Oh no. God no.

"Hey, Ginger! Like what is up with your clothes?"

I looked up from my pathetic self portrait, just in time to see Chloe, blow a bubblegum bubble. Her golden hair streamed down to her shoulders, angelicly (and chemically) waved.

Oh how I wanted to tear all of it out of her pretty, empty little head.

No, I couldnt think that. I needed to calm down, otherwise Chloe would have yet another "little accident". Breathe Rose...

"I know, right! And WHAT is up with her hair?! What a ginger minger!"

Count to ten. They said that is usually helped.

One...

Two...

No,it wasnt doing anything. As usual.

"Have you heard about her sister? Aparently she's as much of a freak as this one is!"

I clutched at my paintbrush, trying to remember exactly WHY I couldnt murder her.

Oh Yes.

She was the Headmaster's daughter.

Right then.

Headmaster's daughter. Headmaster's daughter. Headmaster's daughter. Headmaster's daughter. Headmaster's daughter.

Maybe I needed to think about something else. Something nice.

Kittens for example.

"What is her families problem? They're all, like such weirdos!"

Kittens clawing her eyes out while she screamed.

"Hey, Freak!"

I slowly opened my eyes, only to find myself surrounded by the Devils minions, with Head Bitch standing proud in their steed. They used their favourite (and only) strategy, forming a circle around me.

"Arent your family like SUCH a bunch of weirdos? I mean your Grandma for one...."

That was it.

SNAP.

The bitches jumped up, looking fearfully at the paintbrush I had just obliterated. Some of them began edging away from me, finaly feeling the danger radiating off my skin, unconsciously trying to save their skin from the black tendrils of constant bad luck which was basicly envoloping them.

In a few weeks, they were going to regret they have ever messed with me. That is, if they managed to work out the connection with their tiny brains.

I doubted it.

"What did you say?" I ground out, glaring straight at Chloe, wanting her to look just like that paintbrush I just completly destroyed.

She shifted uncomfortably, putting her hand up to her hair, as if she could feel the big black blob settling in it. She looked like she wanted to back down now, but both of us knew it was imposible. The whole class was watching.

Waiting.

She tried to stand up straight and put up a bravado, but it took a fool not to notice that she was trying to edge away from me. Edging right under a shelf stacked to the brim with paint.

Perfect.

I watched elatedly as it fell on right on her head, splattering across her designer clothes and dyeing her face and hair a lovely blueberry colour.

The whole class laughed at her as she run out of the room screaming "Daddy!"

Even though she was a selfish bitch who had just insulted my family, I felt a prick of sympathy for her. And with my sympathy, the real me came back.

Oh God.

Oh Grandma.

I did it again, managing to make a worse mess of it than last time. At least last time, she only slipped. That could have happened to anybody. Paint on the head wasnt a regular occurence. If it was the insolubale kind, it would make it even worse. She'd tell tales on me to Daddy for sure, and with only a scholarship holding me to this school and no credit card to bail me out, I might as well wave bye bye to Greenwich .

So that's how I ended up skipping school for the second time in my life, trying to calm myself down with the sound of the leaves. The forest was always my happy place, my private paradise, my safe house. It never failed to calm me down, to make me find a solution to some problem.

Well.

Except for when Grandma disapeared.

I fell back, letting my red hair mix with the bark of the tree I was leaning against. Except for the ocaisonal wishfull thought which broke through my self - control, I tried to exclude her from my mind completly. It still hurt me to think about her, so usually I just didn't.

A branch snapped nearby, making me jump. I peered around the tree I was sitting, now hiding behind.

Holy Shit.

A wolf bigger than five meters perched in the clearing, staring, his black fur highlited by the few spots of the sun shining through the trees.

His green eyes staring........staring into mine.

Oh FUCK.