"That's Constance Hardbroom, the girl whose mother died."
Whispers went around the school yard, these girls thrived on gossip. When Mrs. Hardbroom died they had felt sorry for the girl who rarely talked, who sat out on the games they played at recess, who was the teacher's pet. Constance had forced a smile and had let herself be comforted by girls who never gave her the time of day.
But soon the other girls saw that there efforts to reach her were futile and Constance was forgotten. No one wanted to play with the shy girl, who now only talked to give an answer to the teacher. No one wanted to play with the pale girl in black, in fact the only thing they wanted to do was make fun of her behind her back. But Constance still knew and this only added to the hurt she was feeling. She did the only thing she could do; threw herself into her school work. All she did was study. She stayed in during recess under the artificial lights, and at home...well at home she did all she could to forget.
Her father spent all his extra time in his study. Coming out only for dinner and to sleep each night. He had loved Alexandria more than life itself and when she had been diagnosed with a rare lung disease he had done all he could to make her comfortable. The doctor said it wasn't fatal, it was just painful. He never imagined that his wife would die. He knew Constance hadn't done anything to cause her mother's death but unconsciously he blamed her. There was little talk at the dinner table, except for Charity's incessant battle. She was so young when her mother died she kept asking where her mother was. "She went away for a while," her father kept replying and soon Charity stopped asking all together.
Charity was now 8 years old and was the exact opposite of her sister. She was a very talented artist, she spent all her time painting. She failed horribly at school and her magic wasn't at the level it should be. But her father didn't scold her, instead he praised her for her art. Constance worked hard and succeeded at everything, but there was no praise for her, only a "good", while Charity's art work always provoked a kiss and a smile from her father. She saw how painful it was for her father to look at her. And it wasn't just her mother's death, it was because she was growing to look more and more like her mother each day. Charity had her father's tawny hair while Constance had her mother's jet black hair and straight nose.
Since her father was gone so much, it was her responsibility to look after her sister after school. Constance would watch as her sister flew home on her broom, surrounded by her group of friends. It hurt so much to watch her sister, who seemed perfectly happy and content.
"Come on Connie, what do you wan to play today," her sister shouted as she came bursting through the door, sneakers tracking in mud and hair coming lose from her two braids. She was such a mess sometimes.
"I don't know, how about terror tag," Constance said starting to smile, her sister made her forget some times, "You know, we'll both separate and try to scare each other. First one to get to 7 scares wins."
And the girls eagerly set out to prepare themselves. Constance knew that her sister would take forever to find her so she set off immediately with a plan of action. She knew she wasn't supposed to use magic but she put a transparency charm on some sunglasses so she could see through doors. Her sister was hiding under her bed and as Constance could plainly see, her hands were on her face pulling her mouth open ready to scare Constance. With a quick jump, Constance fell to the floor and shouted boo. Her sister shrieked, then giggled. "Oh Connie, no fair," she shrieked.
Constance ran out of the room quickly to find a new hiding spot. She chose the hall closet. "Oh shoot," she thought, "I left my glasses on the bed upstairs."
She waited until she heard footsteps approaching the closet, she wasn't going to wait for her sister to find her. She put her fingers on the corner of her eyes and pulled them back. "Gaaaahhhhh," she screamed jumping out of the closet.
"Constance Aurelia Hardbroom," it was her father's voice, "what are you doing."
At that moment her sister came running down the stairs and gave her father a big hug. "Dad, you're home!!" He smiled and gave her a hug, then turned to Constance and said, "Constance, you are older, you are supposed to set an example for you sister." Constance hung her head in shame.
"Well, I had hoped to introduce a young lady tonight but Persephone, this is my oldest daughter Constance and this is my baby Charity," he said to a blonde woman standing next to him that Constance had just noticed. "Lovely to meet you both," she said.
"Girls, go get washed up for dinner. Why Charity, you are a mess, Constance go help your sister. We will be having a guest for dinner. I'm going to make my specialty chicken." Constance took her sister and went up stairs as quickly as possible. Who was this woman. Was she a friend didn't even want to think about it.
Dinner was friendlier than usual. Her father asked both of them how their day at school was and proceeded to talk to Persephone about the girls. "Constance is at the top of her class and charity is the best artist I know," he said with a smile. "Well, I'd love to see some of that art sometime" "Sure" Charity replied with a grin. Constance couldn't believe her sister. Why was she being so friendly. There was something about this woman that wasn't right. Sure she was beautiful, but Constance could tell it was a cold beauty, the woman's skin looked like ice and her eyes were a sharp blue. No not a sharp blue, more of a malicious blue, Constance thought.
Whispers went around the school yard, these girls thrived on gossip. When Mrs. Hardbroom died they had felt sorry for the girl who rarely talked, who sat out on the games they played at recess, who was the teacher's pet. Constance had forced a smile and had let herself be comforted by girls who never gave her the time of day.
But soon the other girls saw that there efforts to reach her were futile and Constance was forgotten. No one wanted to play with the shy girl, who now only talked to give an answer to the teacher. No one wanted to play with the pale girl in black, in fact the only thing they wanted to do was make fun of her behind her back. But Constance still knew and this only added to the hurt she was feeling. She did the only thing she could do; threw herself into her school work. All she did was study. She stayed in during recess under the artificial lights, and at home...well at home she did all she could to forget.
Her father spent all his extra time in his study. Coming out only for dinner and to sleep each night. He had loved Alexandria more than life itself and when she had been diagnosed with a rare lung disease he had done all he could to make her comfortable. The doctor said it wasn't fatal, it was just painful. He never imagined that his wife would die. He knew Constance hadn't done anything to cause her mother's death but unconsciously he blamed her. There was little talk at the dinner table, except for Charity's incessant battle. She was so young when her mother died she kept asking where her mother was. "She went away for a while," her father kept replying and soon Charity stopped asking all together.
Charity was now 8 years old and was the exact opposite of her sister. She was a very talented artist, she spent all her time painting. She failed horribly at school and her magic wasn't at the level it should be. But her father didn't scold her, instead he praised her for her art. Constance worked hard and succeeded at everything, but there was no praise for her, only a "good", while Charity's art work always provoked a kiss and a smile from her father. She saw how painful it was for her father to look at her. And it wasn't just her mother's death, it was because she was growing to look more and more like her mother each day. Charity had her father's tawny hair while Constance had her mother's jet black hair and straight nose.
Since her father was gone so much, it was her responsibility to look after her sister after school. Constance would watch as her sister flew home on her broom, surrounded by her group of friends. It hurt so much to watch her sister, who seemed perfectly happy and content.
"Come on Connie, what do you wan to play today," her sister shouted as she came bursting through the door, sneakers tracking in mud and hair coming lose from her two braids. She was such a mess sometimes.
"I don't know, how about terror tag," Constance said starting to smile, her sister made her forget some times, "You know, we'll both separate and try to scare each other. First one to get to 7 scares wins."
And the girls eagerly set out to prepare themselves. Constance knew that her sister would take forever to find her so she set off immediately with a plan of action. She knew she wasn't supposed to use magic but she put a transparency charm on some sunglasses so she could see through doors. Her sister was hiding under her bed and as Constance could plainly see, her hands were on her face pulling her mouth open ready to scare Constance. With a quick jump, Constance fell to the floor and shouted boo. Her sister shrieked, then giggled. "Oh Connie, no fair," she shrieked.
Constance ran out of the room quickly to find a new hiding spot. She chose the hall closet. "Oh shoot," she thought, "I left my glasses on the bed upstairs."
She waited until she heard footsteps approaching the closet, she wasn't going to wait for her sister to find her. She put her fingers on the corner of her eyes and pulled them back. "Gaaaahhhhh," she screamed jumping out of the closet.
"Constance Aurelia Hardbroom," it was her father's voice, "what are you doing."
At that moment her sister came running down the stairs and gave her father a big hug. "Dad, you're home!!" He smiled and gave her a hug, then turned to Constance and said, "Constance, you are older, you are supposed to set an example for you sister." Constance hung her head in shame.
"Well, I had hoped to introduce a young lady tonight but Persephone, this is my oldest daughter Constance and this is my baby Charity," he said to a blonde woman standing next to him that Constance had just noticed. "Lovely to meet you both," she said.
"Girls, go get washed up for dinner. Why Charity, you are a mess, Constance go help your sister. We will be having a guest for dinner. I'm going to make my specialty chicken." Constance took her sister and went up stairs as quickly as possible. Who was this woman. Was she a friend didn't even want to think about it.
Dinner was friendlier than usual. Her father asked both of them how their day at school was and proceeded to talk to Persephone about the girls. "Constance is at the top of her class and charity is the best artist I know," he said with a smile. "Well, I'd love to see some of that art sometime" "Sure" Charity replied with a grin. Constance couldn't believe her sister. Why was she being so friendly. There was something about this woman that wasn't right. Sure she was beautiful, but Constance could tell it was a cold beauty, the woman's skin looked like ice and her eyes were a sharp blue. No not a sharp blue, more of a malicious blue, Constance thought.
