April Witch - REVIEW THIS STORY

Written by Stella
Last updated: 01/02/2007 02:01:11 AM

Chapter 2

Ah never considered th’ matter o’ my own looks before. As much time as it took ta put on th’ makeup in th’ mornin’, Ah was always able ta look through the mirror. Foundation, powder, eyeliner, lipstick. The makeup kept people from lookin’ at me straight on. Their eyes would always slide offa me at the last minute, just like the princes on the tower o’ glass in that fairy tale with the ending Ah forget.

The middle was always the most interestin’ ta me anyhow: the moment when Rapunzel’s prince falls into the thorns an’ blinds himself or the wild hedge o’ roses growing up around Aurora’s castle, that instant when the Beast almost dies on account of Beauty’s reluctance ta leave her family. Ah’ve had plenty o’ time ta think ‘bout things like that ‘cause the x-men have become nomads.

With the institute destroyed, the professor missin’ an’ our secret revealed ta everyone who ever wondered, it’s not like we can go back ta school any time soon. Storm rented rooms. Logan rented rooms. Heck, even Scott an’ Jean do. They posed as married couples. Sometimes Jamie pretended he was their son. We would all sneak in the back way.

Some o’ the younger kids seemed ta be enjoyin’ this. It was a big adventure with room service. It was an extended field trip. Mr. McCoy taught class best he could with everyone crowded ‘round his legs like storytime. Ah couldn’t pretend ta listen ta more facts ‘bout the Battle o’ Hastings when there was so much else that might be done.

But the thing is, Ah didn’t do anythin’. Ah watched my face an’ tried ta figure out if Ah was pretty. The shapes fit together the same way, but the picture changed. It was like lookin’ out through a window. At first all ya see is the outside, but then somethin’ on the window catches your eye--a half-smudged hand-print or a flyspeck--an’ then there’s nothin’ else ta see. Ah looked at my face an’ most times it was just me, but sometimes it was Jenny starin’ back.

Ah caught whispers in my ears. Ah kept ‘em ta myself. They faded like smoke. Ah looked and looked. Ah broke mirrors in secret.

It was eight days since Remy left when Ah got the package. It wasn’t much an’ at first Ah couldn’t think o’ who mighta sent it. Everyone’s eyes were on me. Even Mr. McCoy stopped in mid-sentence just ta stare at me an’ the package.

“This is none o’ your business,” Ah told them gruffly an’ ran outside, clutchin’ the small box so hard into my chest that Ah’m sure it left marks.

My fingers shook as Ah ripped at the packing tape. Inside Ah found somethin’ wrapped in a white paper bag. The time it took ta remove the bag was almost too horrible ta stand. Ya have ta understand, Ah’d never been sent anythin’. The box was my little world apart from the x-men an’ the tiny rooms an’ the worry over the professor.

Inside, there were two squares o’ pastry, smallish with powdered sugar squashed into the tops. Ah put one in my mouth. It was heavy with the fullness o’ somethin’ fried that’s gone cold. Ah chewed it eagerly an’ swallowed, welcoming the sensation o’ it in my stomach. Sweetness lingered in my mouth, even as Ah heaved a sigh an’ turned ta go back ta the overfull motel room.

“It’s good,” came the whisper from behind me. Ah shut my ears an’ licked my lips, concentratin’ as hard as Ah could on my honeyed lips.