The Makings of Evil

by AngieB105

The world of Angelique Bouchard is full of darkness, she is seen as a monster. Realising she may die at the hands of the one she loves she sits down and she writes her past in the hope Barnabas will read it and remember her for who she once was when she is gone. She tells the story of growing up in Collinwood, the story of love, friendship, darkness and betrayal. (M for later parts

2. Chapter 2

The Making of Evil

Part Two

Martinique, 1773

I was born on the island called Martinique, an over-seas region belonging to France. I will never forget the beauty of it, the sun always shone there and it shone on the ocean creating wonderful dancing crystals on the waves. I was an only child, just myself and my adoring parents Elizabeth and Henry Bouchard. We were domestic servants to a very prestigious family in St. Pierre but were always treated well by them. They had a daughter who was a year older than I was by the name of Clara and we were often allowed to play together once she was done with her schooling and I was done with my chores. She taught me to count and read a few words. We worked for them for a year after my father lost his job as a fisherman. There had been a bad storm but he insisted on taking out the boat and the nets were caught on the rocks and torn, he was told that he paid to have them repaired or he would have to be fired and his lost wages used to pay. Of course, we didn't have enough money and so he lost his job. We struggled for money and food. My mother used to do laundry for women who would pay her and my father would help at the fish market when a seller needed some extra hands. I did was only two years old at the time, and a handful to look after. We had to conceal our magical abilities for fear of being burnt at the stake like so many witches and wizards before us. One day at the fish market, the servants of the Montadon family had gone for fish for the evening meal and had taken little Clara with them. She was three years old and just as curious as I was about the world. She had wandered to the harbour when she saw men unloading the fish from their boats. Like most days it was a very busy market day and she had moved just a little too close to the edge and was nudged by accident. She fell into the water, trying desperately to scream out for help but the water was already in her mouth and filling her lungs, he tiny body struggling to stay afloat. Luckily for her my father had seen her and moments later was in the water with her. Once back on the dock the servants thanked him, owing to repay him anyway they could for saving the life of their Masters child. It was then my father asked to return with them to the manor with my mother and I and ask for employment for his heroic actions and the servants agreed to take him.

My earliest memory was going to the manor. My mother had put me in the finest dress I had and tried to make me as neat as possible. Of course I put up a fight. I remember sitting in a carriage in between them facing the servants. The gentleman, Mr Movan, was an old man. He was very wrinkled and there was a warmth in his dark eyes that made me instantly like him and feel safe in his presence. I was proved to have judged him correctly for it was him who saved us ten months later from certain death. The woman by his side was much younger. She had been the one responsible for Clara. She sat with her lips in a straight line, fearful of the punishment ahead.

Monsieur Montadon gave employment to my parents that day. The young maid was asked to leave despite begging for her job. The first night there frightened me. I had never been in such a grand manor house. I had only one toy, a small stuffed bear called Sapphire, my father suggested the name, he truly loved my blue eyes. I kneeled next to a bucket of water as my mother washed my face before bed. My father scooped me up in his arms.

"You have been a wonderful child, my darling Angelique. I promise things will be different from now on. We will be safe here and you will grow up in this house with the little girl. You are going to be happy. I promise you."

"Yes, sweetheart," my mother said as she smiled at me. "What a lucky family we are for such a chance."

I smiled at them both as my father tucked me into bed and my mother began to sing to me as I drifted of holding their promises of a new and happy life in my heart.

The next few months flew by like a dream. Clara and I would play every day as my parents went about their many household jobs. I had been so used to hunger before, but now my stomach was always full and my cheeks became slightly plumper like a very young girls should be. My third birthday came and on that day my parents were delighted at seeing my first signs of magic. I had been playing with Clara in her nursery and had climbed onto the window ledge when I heard my father's voice outside. I leaned out too far and fell but instead of falling to my death, I floated a few inches from the ground before landing safely and gently on my feet. After that my parents would sit at night and teach me spells by candle light, always making sure the others were asleep. They were some of the happiest nights of my life. It was all soon to change.

At the beginning of December, Clara became very sick. She had a fever that no one could get down and a sore throat. Not long after, she began to get a rash as was diagnosed with Scarlet Fever and it was thought she would die. Many doctors came and tried to treat her but it was no use. Monsieur Montadon became desperate but even doctors brought from over-sea could not help her. One night, close to the end of her life, my mother and father took me to her room. They knew of a way they could save her life but it should have been done long before. They wanted to show me what to do, even at age three I was capable. They mixed herbs, adding a few drops of her blood and a few drops of blood from a healthy child meaning myself. They began to chant slowing, in time with each other. We had been over heard and moments later Monsieur Montadon burst into the room with a few other servants breaking the spell my parents had over Clara. She passed away a few moments later. Monsieur Montadon was convinced my parents had killed her, not only that, but they had just performed witchcraft. He commanded the servants to keep us there on pain of death while the witch hunters were summoned. Mr Movan, the man from the carriage snuck into the room behind the two servants hitting them both hard over the head with a heavy brass candlestick knocking one out and killing the other. He told my father to pick me up and run with my mother and I with him down the back stairs and out the servants door. I clutched onto Sapphire, not understanding what was going on. In the distance I remember seeing many men walk to the manor clutching lit torches and chanting about burning us alive and sending us to hell where we belonged. We ran to the docks where there was a ship going to Liverpool. Mr Movan managed to get us on as he worked at the manor. My father tried to convince him to come with us as the same fate waited for him if he stayed behind. He would not come and as the ship departed the dock we saw men with torches come and take him away. The last thing I saw of him was his warm smile on his face, there because he knew that he had saved us. I heard my mother cry for the first time in a long time as the ship took us closer to Liverpool and to my love, Barnabas Collins.