Slight gore and panic attack warning.

Chapter 4 Growing up

Two weeks later

I was going to stay away from everyone, and live in my own world…until another incident forced my hand.

It was this day when little Anna and her gang would regain their freedom…with an abundance of hate for me, unfortunately. I was sitting quietly at the table, eating that horrible and megear sludge that they call food and reading a book, when my first 'vision' hit me like a ton of bricks.

One minute I was delivering sludge into my mouth, my eyes roaming over the pages of Jane Eyre, the next, my mind just slipped. It was the weirdest sensation, in my mind, I saw myself rapidly slamming into my bowl of sludge, while the book was ripped from my hands by a maliciously grinning Anna, yet at the same time, I have not moved from my spot. I could see both the reality through my eyes and the image at the same time, like each of my eyes was looking at a different thing. The image seemed to flash across my mind while I just sat there.

Shocked out of my book, I subtly looked around, looking behind me using the back of my spoon. And there she was, my personal tormentor herself and her gang in all their glory. I quickly ducked my head to the right, while taking a look at my page number from the corner of my eye before slamming the book shut and ticking under the table. By the time the girl, one of Anna's cronies, reacted, she had already slammed her hand into my sludge, causing it and the metal spoon to crash onto the floor with a loud bang. The quietly murmuring hall instantly became dead silence. You could hear a pin drop. The nuns were glaring at the girls.

Instantly, I knew I needed to get myself out of trouble. So I acted. I bit my inner cheek as hard as I could, thinking about the death of cute puppies and kittens (I know, it is cruel, but hey, I am not the only one crying now, am I), tears flooded into my eyes, just in time for the old nun to stop in front of me.

"What happened here?" Sister Maria asked.

"An…Anna….and her f…friends slammed her h-hand into my food." I sobbed out convincingly.

"Is this true?" She asked, glaring her infamous death glare at Anna.

"Yes, bu-"

"I am very disappointed in you, young ladies, I thought you knew better than to waste the scarce food the lord has given us! Detentions for a month!"

"B-but-"

"No buts!"

"Yes, sister." Anna replied, giving me the stink eye. I looked up a little from my timid victim act, and smirked. Anna and her gang caught my smirk just as the nun was turning her back towards me.

"But sister! She's evi-" Anna started, but was rapidly cut off.

"No buts! Or I'll make it a year of detentions!" Sister Maria roared. She rubbed her forehead, then quickly started heading towards the exit of the hall, no doubt to have a drink of whiskey from her hidden stash.

"This isn't over!" Anna hissed as she passed by, I merely raised an eyebrow and smirked evilly, might as well cultivate that image for my own safety. She shivered, a full body shiver, muttering 'freak' as she left.

I thought I had gotten off the hook, but I underestimated the power of Anna and her gang's gossip. It started with the whispers, then slowly became more, glaring, and people trying to trip me or shove me into walls. It is hard to dodge everyone, considering I am literally three years old. The nuns were also keeping a very close eye on me, giving me no chance to try and practice wandless magic that I had wanted to since flinging Anna and her cronies away. I did nothing suspicious at all during the months but they still tailed me, while the rumours grew. That girl has a serious imagination, seriously, saying that I made a deal with the Devil, trading my soul to make myself a demon who is smart and pretty? Thank you for calling me pretty and smart but that is just ridiculous, I am three. THREE! I can't even use magic consciously yet! The annoying thing is that I overheard the nuns considering an exorcism on me, just in case. Needless to say, I am not very impressed.

So on a Sunday, I decided to put on a show to prove that I am not a demon. First, I confidently walked into the church, in full view of all the nuns, I reached into the holy water, and behold! My hand is completely fine! I made the holy cross, with the holy water, then sat in the front row of the mass, and in full view of everyone, opened the Bible and read aloud. Then I prayed. Like everybody else. I even partook in the holy communion. Although I am pretty sure that I am not supposed to drink wine at age four. But it helped with the rumours a lot. By the next Monday, all the rumours had paused. Afterall, how can you accuse someone of being a witch or a demon if she literally does stuff that demons and witches famously get burnt by, unharmed?

1886

As the year passed, I mastered the violin and the piano. My reputation as a quiet prodigy gained me very few friends. Some nuns were quite happy to tutor me in literacy and mathematics, afterall, it will not do for an angelic child to look angelic, play angelically, only to speak like a barbarian, with no knowledge of anything else. It is also much easier to make more money if I am well behaved and endear myself to the crowds. It was a humbling and humiliating experience to learn basic maths again. I know I had a lot of experience in it, vaguely remembering the now almost unintelligible calculations I used to perform, it is also very painful, knowing that I am losing my memory of my previous life, some things trigger them, like seeing the maths, or a machine, I will get the urge to take it apart and put it back together, like meeting an old friend.

I held on much tighter to any memory I have of the Harry Potter franchise, seeing how I am in its world right now. Mostly, it is random ideas from fanfictions, and the general plot of the series, like a dark lord who was the second worst of the century called Tom Nipple or something to appear tried to kill a kid and failed and somehow the kid now had to kill the bad guy because of a prophecy or something just as ridiculous. Oh, and people can turn to animals and Dumbledore is a manipulative old coot. And something about mind reading and countering it with occlum-something. My only idea on how to potentially protect the mind is turning it into a fortress. I think it was supposed to help with memory or something. I think that was from Sherlock Holmes, what did he call it? A mind palace?

After my first bout of accidental magic, and the 'Surprise, I am not a demon!' fiasco, I spent my nights meditating in the washroom after everyone was asleep, I can't risk anyone witnessing me floating or something like that! I don't think it will happen, but there is no reason to risk it anyways. I also spend time organising all of my memories neatly, afterall, from what I could remember from fanfictions, it was the basis for occlumency, and I can't have people digging through my head, no matter what.

I tried to do wandless magic, but that only ever resulted in me looking constipated, while my objective stood still, and at most, the pencil rolled over, almost mockingly so. The worst was that it only happened when I felt like tearing my hair out. It is so frustrating. Like grappling with a slippery, invisible and almost intangible force with my mind. I could feel a little stretch in my head when I did manage to make the pencil move, and that already exhausted me. It is times like these that I wonder exactly how powerful Tom was as a child, he did start doing wandless magic at around six after all, I think, only one year older than me.

I started my meditation a few months before my fourth birthday. It took me over a year to finally organise all of my mind into an intricate mind palace, it was not too hard to allocate locations in the palace to my memories, afterall, it can be anything I want. My end product is a fortress on an island. With a bright marble entrance hall, and bright marble and limestone rooms on the upper levels. One of the rooms on the upper levels hids a staircase, which leads down to the dungeons. In there, the walls were made from dark black marble tiles, lit by green and blue flamed torches, with an unnatural coldness that seeped into people, giving the place an eerie feeling. Deep down, after passing through several dungeon cells, where torture tools hung on the walls (to dissuay any potential intruders), was a secret vault. Inside, is a mahogany library, where my past life memories lie. There is a computer search system in the library as well, but I really enjoy the idea of a secret library. I reinforced the idea of the walls with steel, and surrounded the island with a sea, and a night sky where all galaxies and planets are visible.

Finally, I added a tiny ice slate far away in the ocean, where I hope anyone that tries to read my mind will be forced to stay instead. I soared in the sky, inspecting my work, then with nothing but a thought, I teleported inside the palace, walking through each room. It's not that weird that the laws of physics do not apply here, I am inside my own mind after all. What was weird, was that after building the palace and storing away my memories, I found a weird room that I did not build. It was in the dungeons, but it was surprisingly warm. Inside the room, was a glowing ball of flame, it was a beautiful green-blue, like the depths of the ocean at night, both bright and dark at the same time, which pulsated like my heart. I placed my hand on it, then the world fell away.

I was soaring in my dorm. I am tethered to my body, and yet I was free. The symphonies of all living things and things that were once alive rang around me, a beautiful, discordant harmony. While the song of my blood singing through my veins became even more apparent. The world is bathed in multicoloured lights, unique to each object, each with its own unique tune. Is this what magic really is? The ambient energy that connects all living things? That influence time and space itself? I looked towards my orphanage, the walls were glowing dimly, as if though the building materials were alive at some point in the past, but was no longer, only bathing in the afterglow of life, my gaze swept towards the other orphans, I could feel their intentions, and their thoughts, but they glow so much dimmer than myself, but still are much brighter than their surroundings.

However, unlike me, they seemed to have no 'core', as I dubbed the ball of fire, it seems that they were just glowing softly throughout their body, whereas when I looked towards myself, I could feel the bundle of fire, curled around my heart, head and navel,while connecting all of my limbs with cables, spreading out with its vague outline like mist all throughout my body. The occasional strand curled at the edge of my skin, almost breaking free only to snap back in, The link between my heart and my brain was especially thick, and had a bright white strand, where the fire pulsed in joy.

I have a feeling that I was seeing my soul.

If everything is connected, then would I be able to move things in my room? At that thought, I pushed my 'glow' towards a book on my bed with my mind, it seemed sluggish and hard to move, almost like moving a muscle I have never used before. After half an hour of pushing, I got frustrated, then in anger, I focused all my frustration into my limb, instantly, the glow turned into a darker aqua, and zapped across the room, grabbing the book, and bringing it over to me.

So, apparently the magic is much more similar to the force than I thought. For me to get it to work, I will need to channel my emotions, like the way the Sith do, because the quiet will as taught by the Jedi is way too slow, and doesn't seem to work in this world anyway.

1888

After the incident, I finally started my training in wandless magic. At first, I tried to move things with my mind, I mean, it is afterall, an unspoken rule that moving things with your mind is the first thing everyone needs to try if they ever found out that they had superpowers. I then moved on to trying to control my fellow orphans, to ignore me when I didn't want them to bother me, or to briefly peer into their minds, it was surprisingly easy, as they really don't even think about guarding their thoughts. Over the years, I practised creating light and flames in my palms, then making animals dance to tunes that I played, I also practised transfiguring old rocks and pebbles into toys when I got bored.

My playing also got much better to the astonishment of the patrons, and the immense approval of Sister Alice. Afterall, now that I have heard the perfection of music that is magic, how could I not play better? It would be an insult to life if I did not, even though my playing still felt like sandpaper scraping against concrete compared to life. I channelled my emotions to play in a very pale replication of the symphony of life. My mastery gained me chances to perform in front of various audiences that the patron wanted to impress or show off to. I hated the fact that I was, in a sense, being used as a tool, but the attention of the various patrons gained me chances to intermingle with higher class society, which was a good exercise for how to interact with the purebloods in the future, and the chance to basically manipulate them into hiring tutors for me in various languages to not and I quote, "let this talent go to waste". Not to mention it would be pretty embarrassing if I could not read the title of the song I played for them or worse, not know the song they wanted me to play because they were in another language. Since I am given this chance to literally accomplish anything I want, I am not going to let it go to waste, even if it requires me literally reading others' minds, then manipulating my words to innocently remind them of their regrets and desires.

I also made some progress with occlumency, from what I remember, it was supposed to hurt a lot when a person created mental shields, as they would be forcing their magic through their brain, reinforcing neuro pathways in the process. But my unique outlook on magic helped a lot. Instead of forcefully shoving magic into my brain, where it is not meant to go. I slowly increased the amount of magic in the blood flowing to my brain. Then I entered my mind palace, drawing on the magic in the blood already there, and guided them into the walls and structure of my palace. It is kind of like slowly using plants to grow a wall or an armour like a tree instead of forcefully shoving a battleaxe through everything before building it all up again using the broken wooden planks. Sure, my way takes a lot longer, but I am only six, so I still have time before Hogwarts. This also makes my magic flow better, not to mention that since it grows with me, instead of a hard shell that I cannot get rid of, my brain will be better developed and more adaptable to change. Not to mention how by slowly pushing more and more magic through my veins, I look better and feel better. My magic core also grew a lot, like a muscle, the more I moved it, the bigger it grew, it also became a darker shade, the more I practised aggressive magic. A great side effect is that my body almost glows nowadays, my skin looks too healthy to be human, and my features also seem to have that supernatural glow to it, making me look even more angelic. With the (un)fortunate side effect of stunning a lot of people. It is almost impossible to walk through the streets casually now, almost everyone will stop and turn to stare at me, their jaws almost always dropping to the ground. I am almost certain it is the magic that is always curled around my skin nowadays, while I know how to push it out, I don't know how to pull it back in, and the result? Is this.

My life has been going pretty well for an orphan stuck in the past. Anna and her gang have tried to frame me and bully me for numerous things over the many years, but oddly enough, every single one of their attempts failed, at the last possible second. Like the bucket of dirty and freezing water that she was going to dump on my head suddenly levitating and dumping itself on her head, the pencils and pens of mine that she broke somehow repairing themselves, it was pretty funny seeing her gang tear their hair out when I use a pen that they clearly broke the day before.

Then they tried to frame me for witchcraft.

I mean, ouch, true but ouch! The nuns considered getting an exorcism for me after that, but I convinced them otherwise with my charisma. Seriously, where has this been all my last life? I needed it so many times before, it's like a cheat code to life! They did not get me an exorcism on account of the fact that I am a great source of income, and that Lord Cunningham convinced them otherwise by lining their pockets. I also convinced the nuns that I am not a witch by entering the church and touching holy water under their full gaze. It didn't fully dismiss their suspicion, but charming them with my violin certainly helped. After all, how can a sweet child who looks and plays the violin like an angel be in cahoots with the devil? That happened when I was five, so I was able to establish a sort of calm truce with the bullies. Sure, they still tried to bully me, but I kind of used the weird double vision thing to avoid them, and the rumours about being a witch was enough to make people leave me alone, most of the time. Is this what it was like for Tom Riddle as well? I can't help but start to pity him now, if that's the case, he didn't even have my advantage. Kids are mean, but I still won't hurt them if I can, they are, after all, kids.

This changed when I was eight.

1889

I was walking down the hall towards the library. By now, most girls avoided me and jumped to get away from me all the time. I had a chance to finally learn a bit of wandless magic, and used it liberally along with the weird future-seeing ability that I had. One group, however, did not get the hint and still tried their best to bully me, resulting in a lot of humiliation on her side. The group? Anna and her cronies. The second I approached my corner, a vision overtook my mind. I was first tripped through the door into my room. Then a gag was quickly shoved down my throat, as hands grabbed me from the darkness, pulling me up right. Anna's voice whispered in my ear, "Let's see how you like this, freak!" A sharp, searing pain shot through my stomach, then warm liquid spilt on my thighs. Then another sharp pain, this time, through my chest. Throughout all this, Anna's infernal giggle echoed, while the other girls gasped in horror, I felt my limbs going colder and colder. "Quick, use her blanket to soak up this mess, and leave her in her bed." Then I was moved, my wounds screaming in pain, and dumped onto my bed, I tried to move my hands to stop the flow, but they were oddly slow and stiff, like they are only halfway attached to my mind, the world spun around me, my voice too weak to even scream. And it was cold, oh so very cold. So cold that my limbs are there but not really. I am frozen, I can't move. My chest is burning, but I can't move. I am freezing. I am burning. The last thing I saw as the crimson liquid seeped from my chest and stomach, through the gaps of my fingers, was Anna's blue dress splattered with blood, like oddly pretty flowers as she left the room before the vision world went dark.

I froze in my path.

Did…did I just witness Anna murder me? Quickly, I thought back to what Anna was wearing this morning, she was in a green dress, so there is a chance that it will not happen for another few days. Actually, on second thought, I have never even seen her in a blue dress before. If that is the case, this is the furthest in the future I have ever seen. Other than the really weird one where a really coldly handsome young man with blond hair in black, militant clothing who has power literally rolling off of him in waves standing in front of me as he duelled two other young men, half hidden by an old wooden table. One with auburn hair with a torn expression on his face, the other with brown hair, and desperation and…triumph? in his eyes, while I was laying on the floor behind the blond for some reason, completely frozen.

It took six months of paranoia before Anna received the dreaded blue dress, and another two before she did anything out of the ordinary while wearing it. During these six months, every night, I waited until everyone was asleep before creeping into the washroom, carefully triple locking the door before I started practising my wandless magic. I focused on thinking about the toilet being silent, where no sound could get out, but can get in, then I grabbed my magic and shoved. Instantly, I felt my magic touch the walls, and it ran through, sealing the sound inside. I focused on the more aggressive spells, testing them on a poor rat that I summoned to the bathroom. I glared at the poor rat, shoving aside my pity for it using occlumency. I imagined my pity to be a soft fluffy cloud that I shove into a room and turned the wall into a steel safe.

I summoned my hate, imagining it as Anna as she was stabbing me. Hurt. I commanded mentally. My magic took a much darker colour, as it angrily snaked towards the rat. Have you ever heard a rat scream? Let me tell you, the sound it makes can give children a run for their money. It squirmed, as if it was burnt, and struggled. I stopped the spell after a few seconds, I didn't really want to hurt the innocent rodent. As soon as I did, I felt a slight drop in the amount of energy I had in me, like I just ran a marathon. I focused once more, this time, thinking, burn, burn like your blood is acid. My magic once again took a darker hue, this time only slightly lighter than before as it once again snaked and clamped itself around the rodent. Then parts of the rat started sizzling. The rat shreked as it burned.

Stop! I mentally yelled. The rodent still shreked, but its wounds stopped getting bigger.

Heal.

I commanded while thinking about the exact anatomy of the rat and how I wanted each part to heal, imagining each part knitting together, like the dissection of a rat performed in reverse, the skin flawless. My magic, now its normal shade, touched the wounds, instantly, they tried to knit together, but instead of the perfectly recovered skin I was expecting, it was a horrible scarred mess. The rat shrieked even louder than before during the whole procedure. Less than a minute later, it died. I almost screamed in frustration. I need to be able to heal myself if I do get stabbed! I had already been inside some of the libraries of the rich families when they invited me to play my violin and read all the medicine books. I also dissected enough rats to know their anatomy! This should have worked perfectly! Why was it not working? Frustrated, I sneaked back into my bed, this is enough practice for a single night, next time, I will be in contact with my magic core while I do this, so that I can see what is wrong from a magical point of view.

Imagine my surprise when the next night, I saw the rat die because it was fighting my magical residue with its own life force. It was weird, it was almost as if there was meant to be some ritual or something of the like to stop this effect. I tried healing a cut on the rat, and to my surprise, it worked. There was still a scar, and the nerves are probably wonky, but it worked. I managed to figure out what the limit was before the attacking began, it was weird, because non fatal and non crippling wounds can be fixed, no matter how big or small, but the second the wound has a chance of turning fatal, such as a cut to the neck, the rat fights my magic, like there is some hidden law about healing things that would be dead. (Years later, I will learn that there is in fact, a way to heal people from the brink of death, and it is called necromantic healing and highly illegal.) With the path of healing out, I focused on hurting the rat, until, with a simple look, I could break the rat's arm and twist it in an unnatural angle without a second thought. More than once, I woke up in the middle of the night from a nightmare of Anna trying to kill me. They were interceded by nightmares of a vision that I got one day. A horrible vision of dead bodies, of children, of soldiers, in scorched battlefields. Bodies burning, their dead faces staring accusingly at me. So much blood, so much death. In the scarred Earth, trenches laid everywhere. The smell of thick metallic smoke filling my lungs. I can't breathe, mutilated corpses, strewn all around crows pecking at their flesh. I need to stop this. I can't stop this. I feel like I am losing my mind.

Then my dreaded day came.

Anna was wearing a blue dress. She was also oddly happy. I peeked inside her mind, and found the plan of murdering me. Almost identical to my vision. The only difference being the lack of blood splatters on her dress in her imagination. I need to teach her a lesson she would not forget, and scare her cronies enough that they would leave me alone. A plan formed, as she not-at-all subtly stole a steak knife as we cleaned up the meal. Everyone saw her, a peak in their minds confirmed that, and yet, no one did anything.

No one.

Not even the nuns.

Incredulous, I focused my mind onto the nuns who were blatantly staring at her with interest, their thoughts filled my head.

Well, I guess it's time to prepare the coffins. If Anna does kill that freaky Seraphina, we will be able to get rid of two pesky girls. Her death will save more money than her performances earn anyway.

No way, okay, that was weird, maybe this is a one off thing? I know Sister Julie hates me, surely the others will not sound so…happy? Maybe they are just blackmailed into complying? That's got to be why they are doing nothing! I focused again, this time, picking another target, ignoring the cold shiver that ran up my spine.

Ah well, there goes the Devil child, good riddance, too. She is too smart and too perfect to be natural, now she will be gone soon.

No, nononono. This is a fluke. Two nuns, that's like two out of seven in this hall. Maybe the two are just extra close!

Sigh, another death. Not the first time, but it certainly solves problems. I will miss the extra income she makes through her performances though.

A…am I just a tool? I should not care. I do not care! I…I am, I should be a grown up. I…I should not care about this! Even if I feel more and more like an actual child the longer I am here. No. I know they think I am a tool. I…I accepted it long ago. She is still another outlier. Yes, that's it. Surely not everyone hates me.

Really? Stealing a knife while glaring at your target? Good job Miss Obvious. Oh well, she was a useful tool. But she's too troublesome, unnatural…

Tears welled in my eyes. I…I tried my best to be good. I did all they asked. I never caused trouble. Why do they hate me? I quickly searched through the thoughts of the rest of the nuns. To my immense disappointment, they all went along the same lines.

Die! Freak!

Finally, we get rid of her. Good riddance, Devil child! I wish I could kill her myself!

She doesn't deserve to live! That perfect freak of nature.

Finally, I stared into Sister Alice's eyes, one of the only people who has treated me in kindness here.

Finally back to my peaceful life. Never liked that girl anyway. Who does she think she is, playing so much better than me? She is too young to understand those emotions she expresses in her songs on her own, she must be possessed! Good riddance. I hope she dies. Painfully.

At that moment, I felt a part of my heart shatter. I never thought I cared about their opinion, I never harmed them either. I have been nice. I played by the rules! I did all you asked of me! I have been a major source of extra income for the orphanage, and yet, you are so eager to see me dead? Why? To see another child end my life because you could not without facing the consequences? Am I really condemned for my intelligence and my single outburst of accidental magic?

Fine.

If you literally see me as nothing but an inhuman tool, whose death will only benefit you, I shall not grieve for the destruction that is to come upon your world. In fact, I will herald it! I will raise hell upon you all! For no child deserves my fate! No muggleborn deserves to be shunned for their magic! You will regret this!

As soon as the hall was dismissed, I headed towards the library. As I read, my vision became blurry, as tears slowly dripped down my cheeks. I read, but the words in the books were too blurry for me to understand. After reading for a few hours, I snuck out of the library, making sure that the librarian, Sister Isla, did not see me, before heading towards my dorm. I wiped my eyes, making sure that they are not red or puffy. Time to spring the trap, I guess.

Summoning a pair of mice, I sent it ahead, into the hallway where my dorm was. Within seconds, I heard twin screams, which were quickly cut off, as I controlled the mice to jump into the girls' mouths. Subtly levitating the mice a bit, I steered the two girls, so that they trip into my dorm. I slowly walked towards the closed door, the second the girls fell in, I heard a wet, meaty thud. Then the gushing of liquid.

Anna stabbed the girl. Anna stabbed the girl! Who would have been me. She tried to kill me! I don't want to die. I don't want to die! How DARE she try to kill ME! A dark silvery aqua haze descended over my eyes, covering me in a cold detached haze.

I threw open the door with wandless magic, slamming and locking and silencing it behind me. To the immense shock of Anna. Who paused in her crazed stabbing.

"Who's there?" She demanded.

Gathering the magic in my hand, I shot a large ball of pale blue light towards the ceiling.

"Me." I said, coldly, while Anna's gang paled and screamed at my display of magic.

"W..Witch." She whispered, as her eyes went wide with horror.

"If you insist." I replied, my eyes cold, and dead. I have lost all respect for the muggles of this world. If they die, it is on them. If they did not care about my death, why should I care about theirs?

"Get her!" Anna yelled.

Her goons rushed towards me, knives in hand. While I was so focused on Anna killing me, I must have neglected to take note of what her goons were up to. I glared at their arms. And commanded.

Break

With loud cracks, half the arms of the girls in the room broke, they screamed. While the rest approached me, with more caution.

"Break!" I commanded aloud, while grabbing my magic and pushing firmly.

It snapped out like several snakes of lightning, a dark teal, as it twisted. A dosen resounding crack echoed throughout the room as I broke the arms of everyone remaining, except for Anna and the girl already stabbed by her. Then their legs also twisted with a satisfying crunch. Amidst their cacophony of tortured screams, their legs bended into various very unnatural angles.

"You…you FREAK! We will kill you for this!" Anna yelled, while backing away, tears streaming down her face.

I turned towards her, and smiled. A wide smile that did not reach my eyes.

"You seem to not…understand the situation." I purred. "Allow me to enlighten you."

"You see, I am not stuck in your little ambush here with you. You, on the other hand, are stuck here, with me."

I raised my arm, turning my palm to face her.

"Hurt."

She screamed.

A broken whimper broke me out of the haze. I blinked my eyes, surveying the scene in horror. Splayed all around me, were Anna's gang, lying on the ground, unnaturally still. Their limbs all twisted in horrifying angles. Worst still, was a girl laying a bit further to my right.

She was drenched in blood.

Impossibly, more blood seeped out from her, forming a big red puddle that slowly approached me. My heart leaped in my throat, as the memories of what happened rushed inside my head. No nononononono, I did not kill them, I did NOT kill them. Please, please god above, I did not kill them! I am not a murderer. I am not a murderer!

"I am not a murderer!" I screamed out in a choked sob, as I scrambled to get away from the bodies. Only to trip on something…squishy. That moaned.

I jumped into the air, spinning around. Oh…oh my god. My muscles all froze, as I took in the mangled form of Anna.

She was shaking. Her body was covered with cuts, and…blood. Her dress was in tatters, white bones stuck out from her back, and is…is that her rib? Her arms and legs were broken, bones sticking out of her skin like grotesque accessories. She was huddled around herself in a foetal position. I have never been one to be afraid of bodies, seeing how much gore I get from my vision of battlefields in my dreams.

But this…this horror was caused by me.

I dry swallowed multiple times, desperately pushing back the bile in my throat. The air seemed to become thicker and thicker. Oh my god, I can't be seen here. I need to get out! I need to get out! The room is closing in on me! I can't get out! I Can't Get Out! I Can't Get Out! I Can't Get Out! There can't be blood on me, there can't be blood on me! Oh god! I can't breathe. I can't breathe. IcantbreatheIcantbreatheIcantbreathe…

Woosh!

Suddenly, I was no longer in…in my dorm. I was sitting in the library, where I had been countless times, a book in my hands. The b…blood that was no doubt on my shoes was gone. I looked up at the rapid pattering of footsteps.

"That was a strong gust of wind, would you like to swa-Oh my goodness! Are you okay?" Sister Isla asked, at the sight of my puffy red eyes and tears.

"They're dead!" I sobbed out. I killed them. I killed them. Ikilledthem. They were just children and I am nothing but a murderer. Oh…Oh god, I am a killer. I…I have never killed anyone before, and now there is blood on my hands! Oh…Oh god!

She looked down in my hands. Can she see them too? Oh…oh my god, she can, can't she. She then slowly approached me, gently taking the book out of my hands, before enveloping me in a hug.

I can't breathe. I can smell the coppery scent of blood. The sticky stuff is still stuck on my hands. I need to get it off, I need to get it off. Ineedtogetitoff!Ineedtogetitoff!Ineedtogetitoff! Ineedtogetitoff!

"There, there." She cooed as she gently rocked me back and forth, "They are not real."

I froze. What does she mean they are not real? I saw their bodies. I…I remember harming them. Wanting revenge against them. I remember…torturing Anna. Her screams…Oh God, her screams. My eyes spun wildly before landing on the book she just took. Romeo and Juliet.

Then it clicked. She thought I was referring to the characters. Not the murders of children, the characters.

Then the library door burst open. In stormed five Sisters and two constables.

Oh crap.