I watch as the ending credits of American Horror Story scrolled up the screen. By far this was my favorite season… Coven, “They got it pretty accurate, didn’t they?” the girl in the bunk above my head was leaning over the rail to watch my now black screen.
“I guess you could say that,” I mumble and snap the laptop closed, “and snooping is rude.” She makes a face down at me before pulling herself back over the edge and disappears before reappearing on the other side of the room.
Mary Ellen St. Peters. That was her name. She came to this Coven no more than a month ago and all the girls already believed she was to be the next Supreme. Of course this was a load of horse shit. We have only had a Supreme for ten years. The minimum that there ever was, was only twenty-five. Besides, Ms. Goode is a far better leader than any other coven in the country, perhaps the entire existence of witches all the way back to Salem; and I was not going to let a little Brat Doll try to ruin us.
The small bell in the kitchen rang for breakfast. Ding, ding, ding…
Girls of all ages ran into the halls and made their ways down the grand staircases of the old New Orleans house. I could hear their footsteps echoing in my ears as I made my slow descent behind them all. Their giggles and little voice were like a sharp pain to my eardrums as my feet stomped onto each step as I grew closer and closer to the floor.
“Darling, on Wednesdays, we wear black,” Mary Ellen sat, back straight, legs crossed, in her chair next to Ms. Goode.
She was right, every girl, every woman was dressed in black whether it be a dress or a simple shirt and pants. I look down at my white t shirt that read, ‘Normal People Scare Me’ across the front in bright read ink, “Yeah, what about it, Sweetheart?” I ask mockingly with a slight smirk.
“Girls, please,” Ms. Goode says with a warning look before taking a drink of the wine that sat in front of her.
I give a little bit of a sigh and flick my fingers as I turn towards the door. Mary’s bowel splashed up at her and into her lap.
“You did that on purpose!” she shouts and hits the table.
“What are you talking about?” I roll my eyes and looking over my shoulder at her newly stained dress, which is probably French silk.
I let out a blunt laugh before covering my lips, “I did not do that,” I say shaking my head and continue my walk towards the door when something yanked on my hair, sending my feet up into the air, making me land on the back of my head, “You fucking-”
Ms. Goode stands up quickly, her chair shooting out, “Mary Ellen St. Peters and Elsbeth Zaria both of you need to simmer…”
I slowly move up from the floor and touch the sore spot on my head, “Ms. Goode, I didn’t do anything! This is bull crap,” I stand up to my feet and lean against the wall.
“You just didn’t want me looking better than you,” Mary says standing to her feet and making a face, “you thought you could ruin my dress. Admit it.”
YOU ARE READING
Bitchcraft
ParanormalElsbeth is different from the rest of the girls in the Coven. She was only allowed to be housed in the New Orleans Academy since her mother, a former witch, had passed before she was ever a year old. The girls treat her like the staff (Kyle), as if...
