Coven| The New Generation

Prologue: The Chorus.

As I sat in my seventh grade chorus class, I sighed as our teacher told us to start singing. While most kids in my class were singing their hearts out to Tomorrow  from Annie, I mouthed the words. This class was mandatory and I couldn't escape it. My mother made sure to tell me everyday not to sing out loud. It was a very weird demand, but she would yell at me any time I asked why. After a minute of pretending to sing, I noticed that my teacher was staring at me. Her eyes were locked on my lips. She stopped playing the piano and stood up. She walked over to my side of the room.

"Ms. Williams. Is there a reason why you're not singing?" She asked, folding her hands in front of her.

Mrs. Hansen was an old woman that wore ugly pantsuits every single day. She wore tennis shoes and an old- looking clip in her hair. Three years ago, her husband died of cancer. The ninth graders say that she was really sweet and kind before her husband died. Then after she came back, she turned into a witch. Her goal was to make students miserable. It seemed that she didn't like children. Or teaching. So why was she still working here? I'll never know. But as I sat there, thinking of an answer to her question, I knew that the student she was going to pick on today was me. I sat up straight and looked around the room. Everyone was waiting for me to answer.

"I was," I said sheepishly.

"Really?" She asked, crossing her arms. I nodded.

"Do you take me as a fool, Ms. Williams?" She asked.

I shook my head. "No," I answered.

"Do you know how many years I've worked as a teacher?" She asked.

How could I ever know that, you old bitch.

"No," I repeated.

"47 years. I've been teaching chorus classes for 47 years. And in those 47 years, I've developed the ability to sense when my students aren't singing. And you aren't singing," She said.

"I was singing," I responded.

Everyone was staring at me. Their eyes had more sympathy than color.

"Come down here," she ordered.

My cheeks became a dark red color; like a tomato. I knew I was done for the moment I started walking to her. I faced her. Even though I was thirteen, I was two inches taller than this grown woman. Her breath smelled of coffee and mint. She looked up at me and smiled. Not a friendly smile, but a "you're screwed" smile.

"Why don't you sing for us, Ms. Delilah?" She asked.

"By myself?" I asked nervously.

"Yes. By yourself. Is that a problem?" She asked.

I stood there silently.

Yes it is, you old bat. I wanted to say.

But I just stood there, frozen.

"It shouldn't be a problem if you've been singing with the class," she said.

My breath was shaky. I didn't know what to do.

"Go on, sing for us," She said.

I opened my mouth. I looked her in the eyes. I took a deep breath and started singing.

"The sun will come out, tomorrow. Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow, there'll be sun."

As I kept singing, I noticed that Mrs. Hansen's smile dropped and her face was pale. Her mouth was open slightly. Her eyes were wide. Wider than I've ever seen.

"Just thinking about tomorrow, clears away the cobwebs and the sorrows 'til there's none."

I was starting to think she was impressed (based off of her wide eyes and open mouth) but then she started shaking slightly. And her eyes were rolling into the back of her head. The shaking got worse and worse.