Witch-Bitch
Disclaimer: Only the strangers herein are mine.
1st Warning: there will be a lot of cussing & swearing in this fic.
2nd Warning: this is complete AU.
Acknowledgements: I thank the following for their help, even though they may never come across this: Fierce-A Shrine to Kai Hiwatari, at fiercekai()cjb()net (pretend the brackets are dots), for helping me with the odds & ends of Kai; countless music artists that have inspired me to all ends ; all the creators of every single Animè & Manga for helping my imagination & figure-drawing to grow; Mrs Moore, Mrs Slabbert & Mrs de Bruyn for inspiring me to always to try; my mom & dad ,first, for always encouraging me, second, for putting up with the endless hours of internet and third, for paying the huge internet bill ; my e-mail pal, Fay, for listening to me always; and Spirit, for giving me these gifts & allowing me to share them.
YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED
A Note: in essence I have been warned. The title of this story is 'Witch-Bitch' and will always be 'Witch-Bitch' but to the outside public and Fanfiction.admin it will be titled 'Witch-Broad'. In the Oxford Thesaurus CD-ROM, a synonym for 'bitch' is 'broad'. This has been a blow. Thank you for reading this.
Chapter 1: The Trip
His POV
"Witch, witch, you're a bitch! Bitch, bitch, you're a witch! Witch-bitch, witch-bitch…" my crowd chanted around me as I circled the girl sitting on the bench. She just sat there, taking this crap from me. there was no reaction on her face. She just kept looking down at the ground. How could this little slut take this? I thought to myself. The school's hierarchy dictated that she should be punished for what she was: an outsider. She didn't fit in, she never would fit in. I had been named her tormentor, and I had taken the part with some reluctance in eighth grade, but I had grown into it over the years. I looked at her again.
She was the nerd, the creep of twelfth grade. She never hung out with any of the other seniors; rather, she stuck with the losers of grade eleven and ten. She didn't even fit in with them. You wouldn't even catch her outside, she always stayed in the library, at one of the tables, reading or writing. She didn't bother making friends with anybody in her class, she stuck out like a sore thumb. She was one of the smarter kids in the class but she never spoke up. Nobody liked her. She just took all of this crap in her stride.
She didn't even try to make an effort with her looks. She always wore her black glasses and had her hair tied up. Her uniform was baggy and she had the longest skirt in the entire school. This didn't seem to change until eleventh grade when it seemed she began to experiment. Her hair changed colour every few months, and she began to wear a necklace under her shirt. She began to display some strange characteristics. In class, she would doodle on her hand, making the most bizarre designs. She would chat to the girl next to her, making these little comments that would make the girl burst out giggling and cause us to all stare at her. And on Casual… that's when it became scary. This little slut thought she could be one of us. Be cool. Her! What was she thinking?
This little thing wanted to be cool! The world will start to revolve backwards before we let that happen. And as I circled around her, I began to get angrier and angrier at her. She had no right! I stopped in front of her .
"hey witch-bitch! You think you're so smart, don't you? you're just another piece of shit that we have to scrape off our shoes at this school. Are you even listening to me?" I snapped in her face. She flinched back. good, a reaction. I shoved her shoulder. She steadied herself, ignoring me still. I shoved her again. This time she nearly fell over but she maintained her balance again.
"c'mon, fight back you little cunt. You too good for us, is that it? speak up!" I yelled into her face. A car hooted behind us, an irritating tune that grated my nerves. She grabbed her bag off the ground and shoved her way past me and the dispersing crowd. I turned my head and saw her climb into this ancient blue Volkswagen. I smirked at her. She just kept her eyes on me the whole time she was driving away. She would get what she deserved tomorrow. No-one walked away from me without paying. No-one walked away from Kai Hiwatari.
Her POV
Why does he always pick on me? I never did anything to him, I thought tiredly. I could see his venomous glare through the glass as mom drove away. There was silence for a while. I waited.
"so, how was today?" mom asked.
"headache-y as usual, mom," I replied, feeling automatic as I said it. the headache was pounding behind my eyes and temples as I said it. mom looked at me like always, worried and sympathetic.
"when we get to my work, dig around in my red bag. There should be some adco in there somewhere." I smiled briefly. I always have a headache when I come home from school. It usually starts around second period and hangs around till I get home. My thoughts turned back to what happened today. I rubbed my shoulder absently as I watched the traffic. I had hoped that Kai wouldn't start getting physical this year. He had usually stuck to taunts and swearing at me. I could easily block those out by concentrating on looking for mom's car, or if I was in the mood, concentrate on the next chapter of one of my stories. Now, it was getting more difficult.
"any bad stuff today?" mom asked. I winced inwardly. What should I tell her?
"the headache, for one. And Mister Andrews gave us more historical work again. I'm so sick of him and his propagandial English work." Mom looked at me. she knew there was something else. I looked down at my hands. I didn't want to tell her anything because she was my mom, but at the same time, she was my friend and I just wanted to cry on her shoulder. I sighed , looking out the window.
"anything else?"
"no," I snapped at her. "I don't want to talk about it," I said more softly. She looked away, leaving it at that. I just wanted to get home and read. I don't want to have to deal with what happened today. My thoughts ran on in a whirlwind of colours and idea boxes when my mom snapped me out of my thoughts. She had just parked and was trying to get my attention.
"yeah mom?" I said slowly. She smiled at my dreaminess.
"you remember your dad's friend, Mister Voltaire?" she asked me. I vaguely recalled dad talking about him. dad was always happy when he was talking about his friends, especially that man, Voltaire. It seemed like they get along very well.
"sort of. What about him? " mom began getting out of the car and I followed suit.
"well, he's heard about your high marks in English and he was wondering whether he could ask you a favour," she answered, her back to me as we climbed the stairs. I was beginning to feel a little uneasy.
"what type of favour?" I asked apprehensively. We reached her office, the air conditioning whirling behind the door.
"he was wondering whether you would tutor his grandson. He said he's been having some trouble lately, and his marks have been going down quite rapidly." She began searching for her keys on the Key-ring of Hell, as I fondly called it. this favour didn't sound so bad. I've never tutored before, unless you count the times that I just helped people when they asked me questions at school. I said this to mom.
"doesn't sound so bad. Who's his grandson?" I asked. She finally found her key and unlocked the door.
"I believe you do know him, he's in your grade. Name's Kai Hiwatari. Do you know him?" she asked as she walked through. I stood there, stunned into disbelief. She couldn't be serious! Not the boy that's been torturing me my entire high-school life! Not him! I was frozen beyond feeling. My mom turned around, sensing something was wrong. She looked at me, concerned.
"Becky, are you okay? You look sick all of a sudden! What's wrong?" she asked anxiously, rushing towards me, feeling my forehead. Me, Becky Kristine, okay? No way was I okay, no way was I all right! Senior year had just turned into an earth-bound hell!
"everything's fine, mom. The air-conditioning is just really high, that's all."
To be continued…
GB