Hello, everyone. I'm finally back after I don't know how long and I've got a fic for you. It's darker than I normally write (in my opinion) and I don't really know where it came from, but I wrote it at one in the morning so please excuse any mistakes.

Disclaimer: The worst witch belongs to Jill Murphy, I'm just borrowing the characters for a while.

Darkness. That was all she could see. Her nerves were getting to her and she could feel herself shaking as she searched for the phial that was, supposedly on the bench in front of her. Her hand only shook harder as it closed around the glass container.

"Hurry Up! A good witch should be able to identify a potion by smell alone."

Her hand trembled as she clumsily removed the cork that sealed the phial and cautiously brought it closer to her face only to have it roughly shoved towards her.

"I said hurry up, Miss Hardbroom! Didn't you listen to anything I've said?"

Was she supposed to answer? It didn't sound like a rhetorical question, but Mistress Broomhead took immense pleasure in toying with her already broken mind like this. She decided to be brave, whether she answered or not she'd be wrong. Just hold on she thought as she drew up all her courage. "Yes" came the whispered reply followed by a blow that sent her falling until she hit the unyielding stone floor. Seconds later, she felt an excruciating pull on her head as her mentor grabbed a handful of her hair, which had come free of its usual bun earlier in her 'lesson', and heaved her to her feet.

Tonight's session with Mistress Broomhead had been one of the easiest to handle until she was told what she'd be learning. The lesson was to be on identifying potions by smell. Instead of casting a spell on the rack of phials containing the potions that needed to be identified by the tall girl with dark hair, Mistress Broomhead had a better idea.

The girl knew that her Mistress knew all of her deepest fears and exploited them fully during their private lessons, therefore she knew that the girl's biggest fear was a fear of the unexpected. A fear of not having control. As soon as she'd been told what she was expected to do during the session, her tutor had started to shoot jinxes at her. In truth, it was just one jinx shot at her over and over again.

She tried to defend herself against the bolts of red light that were being shot at her, but one of Hecketty's jinxes hit her hand and spread through her body. It felt as if every nerve ending it past was set on fire as it spread and rendered her unable to move. She was much as she tried and struggled to move, it was hopeless. So the girl watched helplessly as her tutor grinned maliciously at her and moved her hand in a painfully slow motion as she prepared to cast a spell.

Time slowed down as Broomhead released a bolt of bright white light and it made its way towards her she tried desperately to move, to defend herself, to at least turn her head away, but it was too late and the spell hit her square in the face. The girl was blind.

Tears leaked from the corners of her, now milky white eyes and she didn't notice as the spell binding her was lifted or as her knees buckled and she fell into a sobbing heap on the floor.

What felt like an age passed and the only movement was the girl's shoulders heaving with the force of her sobs. She was still unable to see anything but a vast black abyss. A gentle touch of a caring hand resting on her shoulder brought her back to reality. She held her breath as the hand resting on her shoulder moved and a strong arm wrapped around her frail form and tried to lift her to her feet.A small groan escaped her as she realised just how much weight her sessions with Mistress Broomhead added to her emotionally as well as making her feel like she was going to topple over at any second if she didn't have any support. She felt herself being gently guided across the room and helped to sit down at one of the benches.

"Richard?" She whispered as a large, work worn hand held hers. Richard was the only person who was or had ever been this gentle with her since she could remember and it occurred to her that she hadn't heard him enter the potions lab, but she supposed that she was too upset to notice. She hadn't heard Mistress Broomhead leave either, but the dragon had probably just vanished and left her to her misery like she always did. Maybe her distress at being blind had left her somewhat muddled. At the feeling of Richard's hand on hers, her sobs became just that little bit louder and more free.

"Shhh. It'll be alright."

Richard's low soothing voice cut through the sound of her heavy breathing as he rocked her and lifted her hand, that was entwined with his, off her lap and rested it on the work bench in front of them.

"It's alright, she's gone." He whispered to her as he started to draw soothing circles on the back of her trembling hand with his thumb.

"It's not alright. She knows. She has to know, she's been harder on me lately... Richard, I-I can't see." The last part of the sentence was a frightened whisper.

"I'm sure that it's only temporary, even she's not that harsh. Besides, how on earth could she know? We've been so careful."

"She called me Miss H-Hardbroom, though." She let out a choked sob. "I'm just sc-scared." She sounded weak, because that's what she was. Weak and broken.

Richard squeezed her fingers together tightly and pinned her hand to the bench.

"R-Rich, you're h-hurting me."

Then she felt something that was wrong. Richard's hands started to shrink and they got smoother and colder.

"Oh, we wouldn't want that now, would we?"

The girl's breathing got heavier as Richard's voice began to get higher and she realised that she'd just given away her biggest secret,or at least that she was hiding something, and there was no way that she could deny it. Her Richard was morphing back into the person who was impersonating him. Mistress Broomhead.

"What are you hiding from me then, Miss Hardbroom?" She knew, of course, but it was one of Mistress Broomhead's favourite tactics in torturing her student to play dumb and taunt her until she admitted to any wrong doing whether she was guilty or not.

"N-Nothing, M-Mis-Mistress Broomhead. I-" She took a deep breath. She was so nervous and she could feel her heart desperately thumping in her chest and she could hear it pounding in her head. "I d-didn't mean anything that I said."

"Didn't you?"

Snap.

The girl whimpered and tears spilled down her face as she realised that there was more to come.

"Tell me the truth, Miss Hardbroom."

A snap. A scream.

"You've been keeping secrets from me!"

"I haven't!" She screamed. "Please!"

Snap.

"You shouldn't tell lies." Mistress Broomhead's voice stayed calm and level throughout the girl's torture . She didn't seem to care.

There was a hard pressure at the base at the next finger on her student's left hand and the young witch attempted to brace herself for what was to come. She knew that she was at the mercy of her mentor, helpless and in a vulnerable position. She wasn't even able to see.

Her hand was dropped and nothing else came. For that, she thanked whichever deity was listening. She was being left alone, but like every good thing that had ever happened to her, it was short lived. A searing pain that slashed from her left shoulder blade across to the small of her back caused her to could feel herself getting weaker, her breathing getting heavier. The pain came again and she was forced on to the floor.

Footsteps. She could hear Broomhead's deliberate footsteps trying to prolong the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of the girl's stomach which came with knowing something was coming and only being able to wait for it. The slashes running across her back were sending a steady flow of pain through her and, despite waiting for whatever was coming, she couldn't help but yelp from both the pain and the surprise.

Hecketty sported a sick smile on her face as she watched the excruciating pain that she was causing. Her most faithful student was on the floor writhing and screaming as her face twisted and contorted and Hecketty's magic enveloped her. The magic came from one of the darkest parts of her soul and was a deep shade of violet. It was almost black, like her heart. With a lazy flick of her wrist the girl's screams, that had been the only sound in that dark room, were silenced even though the young witch's chest still heaved as she attempted to force a sound, any sound out of her.

A pain that she'd never felt before engulfed her. Her head was being jammed into a vice and every single nerve ion her body felt as if it was burning and then being frozen. It was pure agony and now, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't scream to show her pain. She was light headed and knew that she wouldn't be able to take much more. Just as she was on the brink of passing out and leaving all her pain while she wandered in the realms of her subconscious mind, it stopped. She had just enough strength left in her to push out a few stuttered words that she hoped would appeal to her mentor's humanity and the bond that should naturally exist between them. "M-Mother, p-p-please."

No punishment. She'd been forbidden from addressing Mistress Broomhead as her mother since her father had left them. Still, she had received no punishment for breaking the most important rule that Broomhead had. She'd really been spared anymore pain so she clutched her head with one hand and her abdomen with the other, crying openly for the first time in years.

A gentle hand ran down her face, accompanied by the sweet smell of perfume.

In truth, Hecketty was surprised at how her daughter had reached out to her and that she still had some feelings for the girl that was in front of her as she crouched on the floor. "Constance." The softness in her voice surprised her. She hadn't been this gentle with her daughter since her husband passed and left them. This was wrong. Constance leaned into her hand and continued to sniff as she stroked her hair. If her fairytale was ripped away from her, Constance shouldn't be allowed a happy ending either. She'd make sure of it. Grabbing her hair, she pulled Constance up so they were nose to nose.

This evening was full of surprises for Constance, for one small minute, she thought that she had her mother back and now she was being cruel again. She just didn't understand.

"No matter where you are, who you're with or how far away from me you think you are. Remember this, Constance. I own you and always will. I gave you life and can take your life matter how hard you try you'll never escape it. You'll never escape me. That's your lesson tonight and I hope you've learned it." After she'd given Constance her warning,Hecketty released her daughter and got up to leave, but there was one thing she had to do first. She kicked her daughter's abdomen as forcefully as she could and as a farewell she spat at her. It was the ultimate humiliation for Constance. "You're a disgrace." With that she lifted the spell that had made Constance blind and left her battered, bruised and bleeding on the floor to fend for herself.

XxXxX

The next day, the life of Constance Broomhead-Hardbroom changed forever. Richard Hardbroom was found dead and what little love she'd ever had for her mother was destroyed after what she'd done. Constance had lost the two most important people in her life. Her husband and her daughter.

She had to get away from her mother and her memories. She left the WTA and her mother behind and looked for a job anywhere when opportunity knocked in the form of Cackles academy. Constance Hardbroom now had the fresh start she wanted, but reminders of what she'd lost were all around her in the girls that she taught and her memories were always with her and would always be. Her mother was right, no matter how hard she tried to bury the past, it came back to her in her dreams. She would never be able to escape her past or her mother.

"She haunted me then and she's still haunting me now."

Well that was longer and darker than what I normally write. I hope you all liked it.