Natural Evil

Chapter 4 - Mrs Carraway

Soft light flooded through the black curtains, finding its way through the cracks each time the slightly open window blew wind past. I'm not a morning person but I don't procrastinate when getting ready; mother and father liked it that way. Charles was on 'waking up Blair' duty every morning for as long as I could remember, but now that he was gone I had to rely on myself to wake up.

Trudging out my room with toiletries in hand I saw Vivian doing the same. Though this time her hair was up in a messy bun which wasn't as wonderful as the ones normal teenage girls fawned about. Her face was bare and a matte caramel compared to the dewy look yesterday; I had to be honest here, she looked just as beautiful now as she did yesterday, maybe even more so without all the shimmer and shine that coated her skin.

"Morning," my frog like voice must have scared the girl as she dropped her things and yelled in fright. "Sorry!" I whisper, careful not to wake the boys up.

"You are a quiet one, hon," she gives a soft smile as she picks up her soaps, all, of course, coloured pink.

"Ready for today?" We walked down the chilly halls which were lit up by the flames of each candle every so often.

"You bet, I can't wait to graduate, get rich and own half of eclipse!" Vivian was tall but I felt as though her childish personality would have fit my short stature. "What about you?"

"I'm... I'm actually not sure," for a while I pondered options, weighing pros and cons of different careers that eclipse had to offer. I had no doubt Father wanted to pass the family business down to me... though he would have preferred to pass it to his son... if he had one. It's odd how gender can sway relationships.

"Well, what classes are you taking?"

"Weapon mastery, Toxicology, Evil fine arts and prostitution studies,"

"Well shit, you really don't know what you're doing!" The half amused laugh I let out didn't seem to be notice by Vivian as we reached the female bathrooms. "Hopefully we're in the same classes, sugar!" With that she left me standing alone, the shower tap turning on from the stall she took as her own.

I stood looking at the black and white tiled floors who's pattern continuously copied and pasted across the large room. The painted walls of dark neutrals lined every corner, the black oak dado along the wall added class as glass panes with thin curtains tied back with fabric rope. Each stall, or rather room, was equipped with a toilet, bath, mirror and sink. The wallpaper was stripped red, everything was marble, a small chandelier hung above a soft rug.

"Fancy," I mumbled as I walked into a corner room. "Let's see how this goes,"

~~~

Soft cotton fabric rubbed up against my skin as I slipped on the outfit my family had chosen as a representation of my status. Mother had gotten Charles to iron all my clothes meaning they were lacking in a single wrinkle. Father had bought me an entirely new closet to represent the family; this meant neutral colours and appropriate clothing, something a girl would wear in a catholic school. It was a baby doll dress that reached above my knees coloured a navy blue as a lighter version of the fabric tightened around my waist and short sleeves. Along with this, the same colour matched the collar and necktie that was too formal for my liking. Grey knee high socks with blue bows lay under the Mary Jane's father had gotten made for me to wear every day.

With my satchel packed with the needed items, I placed a small dagger in my dress pocket considering my mother said she saw her classmate get stabbed first day there.

Wonderful.

Before school though, breakfast was a must. Swiftly exiting my room I run straight into Damien.

"Shoot, Sorry," with a roll of his eyes, he straightens out his black coat and maroon turtleneck.

"That's alright, just be careful who you bump into," his hands brush off the flint on my sleeve before he pats both sides. "We wouldn't want that pretty face being slashed on the first day," before I could reply he was out the door.

"Aw," I jump at the sudden noise coming from Vivians room. "He called you pretty,"

"He was being sarcastic," Vivian laughs at my quick reply. "Stop laughing at me, Vivian,"

"Bleh, don't call me Vivian, Viv is fine,"

"Right, okay... well I'm heading to breakfast," she salutes and retreats back to her room where erotic music flowed out from.

~~~

Chalk against the blackboard filled the room, silence full of anticipation for the first class fogged the air. A final thump against the board makes everyone jump, a slender old woman turns around with a bored look.

Her cat-eye framed glasses bulged out her hazel iris' as her slicked back greying hair pulled at her hairline a little too much. She wore a emerald green blouse, tight fitting and a few decades old, evident from the patches and stitches at the seams. The lint-less pencil skirt, which seemed to be a reoccurring fashion choice with female teachers, held her slim legs close together, leading down to her pointed kitten heels.

"Weapon mastery," she started off, her distant voice rung throughout the room, strict and harsh. "In this class you will learn about weapons, how to use them, and their history," eyes kept on her as she paced along the aisles of desks.

"As if she's the teacher," a boy who would soon regret his words, whispered from behind you.

"Excuse me?" The teachers voice hisses from his right.

"N-nothing," in a swift motion the boys hair was yanked back, his neck bare. His yell of discomfort made students lean forward, awaiting his consequences. The woman's thin fingers, nails coated in blood red lacquer, swiped up the victims fountain pen and brought it to his neck.

"A classic fountain pen with a reverse oblique tip, the perfect weapon," she traced a line across a prominent blood vessel on the side of his neck. "A single puncture to this artery you would die in a matter of minutes from blood loss, imagine what I could do with that girls Bowie knife in her pocket,"

"W-what-" the boys trembling words left his mouth as I look down at my dress to see the outline of my dagger pushing against the fabric.

"If I were you, I would watch your words carefully, Mr Gretch... is it?" the loud gulp he took gave the teacher a signal to let go, knowing he learned his lesson. "My name is Mrs Carraway, I hope that introduction spoke many words,"

"Definitely," I mumbled quietly enough that it just missed her ears. I looked back as she passed, catching sight of Damien sitting in the back, paying full attention to the current introduction. Class went on as such until the bell rung in the halls signalling time to change subjects; other than my four chosen subjects, normal classes were added such as Mathematics, English and History—history mainly for political pride of eclipse.

~~~

A/n: Yay! Another chapter! Hope it was good!