The Veilor

Chapter 7: Triggered

   Still unsure of what had really happened the last time she was at the Principal's office, Cornelia lay in bed after a long day at school and an even longer evening at work. Wondering if the 'massage' and 'Miss Wardwell's words' had all been fruits of her wicked imagination. 'Could they be? Well...I wouldn't mind if they weren't' Cornelia blushed at the ludicrous thoughts. 'But, no surprise your mind would come up with that. You've only known her for a week and a half but there's all that time you spend thinking of her you damn idiot!' she scolded herself. For a few minutes, her mind went blank and she concentrated on her breathing, trying to calm down but not for long, as the thoughts came back. 'She is a stunning woman!! Her impossibly gorgeous eyes, that waist and her burgundy lips that are the color of the richest wine...' Cornelia's thoughts clouded and she bit down on her lower lip, continuing to develop the images of those elegant pale arms and slick long fingers, massaging her exhausted body and giving it the tension-release it so much desired. All her muscles burning, Cornelia closed her eyes moving her hand down beneath the bed sheets, her cheeks flushed and thoughts occupied by the brunette beauty.

   The next morning Cornelia woke up later than usual, her vision still clouded from sleep she turned to the alarm clock on her bedside table 'Wednesday 8:12 AM! Ohh!' she groaned, not wanting to get out of bed. Her head turned back to the ceiling as she closed her eyes for a moment, but the realization hit her fast. "SHIT!" Cornelia jumped up from her bed and clumsily got to the chair, where her school uniform was neatly folded from the night before. "What?" she frowned looking at the sexy black lace see-through underwear 'But I swear that I...' Cornelia gave out an annoyed grunt, she was sure that she placed her normal school appropriate underwear there the night before but right now there was no time to lose, so she grabbed what she had and got dressed.

   "Hurry up!!! Hurry up!" She repeated to herself while running downstairs. Running past the kitchen, she wanted to grab her packed lunch but some unknown force pushed her towards the front door and she tried to reason with herself, deciding that she could afford to buy some lunch during the break time.

   The roar of the car's engine stopped only when she had finally reached the school's car park. Running out, she slammed the door behind her and ran, making it to the first class seconds before the bell rang. "Close match!" Cornelia heard a familiar voice coming from behind the teacher's desk. Freezing on the spot her eyes desperately searched for Eileen. "Unfortunately Miss Canmore isn't here today. Please, take a seat here" the voice continued and Cornelia turned around to see the free space on the front desk right before Principal Wardwell. She swallowed a lump in her throat and hurried to the desk. With a small smile and a nod in Wardwell's direction, Cornelia was seated and the class began.

   Double English went by, faster than usual, they were studying poetry, Wilfred Owen in specific. One author that Cornelia had been very fond of, his 'Dulce Et Decorum Est' was one of the darkest and most moving poems that had stuck to her soul. She stood up packing her bag up, still slightly dazed and in thoughts, she was slower than the others and before she knew it, there were only two of them left in the classroom. "Your poetic knowledge is rather impressive Miss Moore, you are bound to score high marks on the upcoming mock exams in January if you continue this way," Principal Wardwell said sweetly and the compliment regarding her knowledge made Cornelia shiver lightly. "Thank you, Wilfred was an amazing poet, his words are just so sensual. If I may quote 'Red lips are not so red as the stained stones kissed by the English dead.' Within these words, there is such beauty and the greatest pain of loss." Cornelia picked her bag up "If you'll excuse me, I've got to get going for now but I'll be in your office at 13 o'clock." With this, both women exchanged their goodbyes, and while Mary would have loved to explore the subject of poetry to a deeper extent, she had to let the girl go, for the time being.

   The next two periods seemed to drag on a little and Cornelia lost concentration one too many times. Eileen had never shown up to the classes and the more time went by, the worse Cornelia felt. As the bell rang, indicating the end of classes for the day Cornelia got up and headed over toward the dining hall. A school lunch, though nothing that seemed appetizing, had to do for now. A small salad and a green apple were the only edible things in the canteen that she'd dare give a try to.

   She walked to the farthest end of the dining hall and sat on the empty spot of the corner table. A group of other female students sitting there, didn't seem to mind her presence; they had a big banner that said "WICCA" on it. A young girl with short blonde curly hair smiled at Cornelia and then looked around the table "Seems like most of us are already here, hence I am happy to announce the first meeting of our second year of 'Women's Intersectional Cultural and Creative Association' open." The girls around the table gave a cheer and clapped, their eyes glowing and sparkles of joy for the great work ahead beaming from them. As the cheering and clapping quietened down the blonde continued, "Last year 'WICCA' was able to go through the list of forbidden literature and bring back to the library shelves over 40% of books that were previously placed on the banned list. With Miss Wardwell as our Principal for this academic year, I believe that we are in very good hands to increase that number to new records. Giving the students of Baxter High the freedom of choice and exploration of the creative world of literature." A small rattle of clapping followed after the introductory speech. Seeping on some juice Cornelia's attention was getting more and more drawn into what this group was about. "Khm khm" the blonde girl cleared her throat and continued "But 'WICCA' isn't only about literature. As some of you know, in last year's summer term we started to expand on helping female students' that are going through rough times or are being bullied. There is one member that I want to mention today. Eileen Canmore..." Cornelia's heart sank deep in her body as she looked back at what had happened in the classroom the other day; she was drawn out of her thoughts and returned her attention to the speech.

   "After Eileen's break down over the last week of the last term, she began to be bullied by the football team group in specific. Last night a website went up" the girl pulled out a laptop from her bag and opened it up, working on bringing up the website that she spoke of. Cornelia's phone beeped and she glanced down seeing a reminder to take her medication. 'Damn!' she scolded, realizing that she had left the meds at home along with her packed lunch. By this time the girl that they seemed to refer to as 'Sabrina' had got the website up and running and the girls took turns to look at it one by one. "It's called the demonology chronicles and was created to make fun of Eileen, after the stories she told the school counselor. The information was strictly confidential but his son Jason sold the recordings of his father's and Eileen's sessions." Cornelia's phone buzzed again and she jumped up noticing that it was 12:55 and she had to hurry, getting her bag she rushed past the laptop, slowing down for only a light moment. On the front page were very graphic drawings of demons. Many demonic creatures, staring back at her from the screen. Cornelia froze, looking at them. Her stinging eyes picked out on a few names that she knew well 'Astaroth, Hathor, Beelzebub, Asmodeus' a wave of fear shot through her, not letting her continue reading. Acute pain sticking her every muscle as she watched their drawings. 'What sort of sick bastard would draw this, leave alone post that bloody shit?' she thought tormented while stumbling away from the dining hall. Her body shaking 'If Eileen really saw them? Could she? No, no, she can't have... or... I must help her!'