Sorry I've taken forever and a day to update this story! It's been a long (and stressful) term! Hopefully this story still has some interest.
This chapter is a lot darker than I'm used to writing, hopefully it still reads well.
Please review :)
The Diary
Chapter 5
"CONSTANCE HARDBROOM!" Mildred heard Heckitty Broomhead's sharp voice, and felt herself dragged uncontrollably into another memory. She stumbled, steadied herself and looked at her new surroundings. She was standing in an old fashioned classroom - not too dissimilar from the potion's lab at Cackles, but even gloomier. Everything in the classroom seemed monotone: grey walls, dark wooden desks and a cold stone floor, not a bright colour in sight. Whereas Cackles had an almost hidden air of grandeur, albeit faded, this classroom seemed mightily depressing.
"yyyess Mistress Broomhead?" The young girl stuttered in reply. Mildred gasped in surprise, not once, ever, had she heard Constance Hardbroom stutter. The woman often gave out lines and detentions to the unfortunate pupils who couldn't hide their fear whilst speaking to her. Mildred had often received 200 lines of 'I will not stutter whilst speaking to my superiors,' when HB was in a particularly gruesome mood.
The teenage Constance's hair was now scraped into the tight bun which would become her signature hairstyle in later years, but she looked different. Her eyes had lost their laser-like stare, they had become afraid.
"Your potion appears to be pink." Heckitty walked over to the girl's cauldron, her feet tapping perilously in black court heels, looking like a dangerous predator about to see if their prey was worth the effort it would take to rip it apart. She glared her hawk-like eyes, seeing bubbling fuchsia liquid which was the unfortunate girl's potion. "Explain yourself!"
In the corner of her eye, a small movement caught Mildred's attention. One of the girls, a rather hard-featured girl with fair hair grinned haughtily at her neighbour. Mildred recognised that look anywhere; it was the smug look Ethel Hallow would give when she had successfully gotten Mildred into trouble. Mildred's suspicions were correct, when the teacher's attention had been absorbed and Constance had been gathering ingredients from the cupboard the girl had added extra powdered mintleaf to the Constance's potion.
"I I I don't understand ma'am. I followed the instructions precisely." Mildred snapped her attention back to Constance, noticing how the young girl bit her lip tentatively as she bravely defended herself.
"Useless girl!", Heckitty hissed. "How dare you lie to me! If you had followed the instructions accurately the potion would be a dark shade of blue right now instead if this monstrosity before me. You will clean this up immediately and I will expect you in the potions laboratory at 5pm sharp. You will stay there, working through supper, until you have this potion perfected is that understood? I will accept nothing less than perfection." Heckitty barked angrily, she knew Constance Hardbroom had great potential as a potioneer, and she would get it out of her one way or another. Her eyes glinted dangerously, "Now hold out your hand," she demanded.
Mildred gasped and fought the desire to cover her eyes as the young Constance rolled up the sleeve of her stiff, black school shirt, exposing her paper white and delicate skin as Mistress Broomhead magically summoned her favourite instrument of pain – a dark brown riding crop accurately nicknamed 'stinger' by the girls of Witch Training College.
The teacher's eyes glinted madly as she brought the crop down hard ten times onto Constance's dainty hands, causing the girl to gasp inwardly at the pain. Although magical punishments had been outlawed decades ago by the Witch's Guild, physical punishments were still allowed, although rarely used by most humane teachers. Heckitty Broomhead was no such teacher.
Mildred saw a tear escape from Constance's eyes as she felt the last blow. Constance hastily rubbed her eye, trying desperately to hide her emotion.
"Now clean this up!" Heckitty barked.
Xxx
"Mildred.." The older Miss Hardbroom gasped in realisation as she suddenly noticed the small purple, tartan book lying on Mildred's bedside table. Her stomach churned in dread as she put two and two together. She needed to get to her pupil. Goodness knows what she had seen.
Never one to waste time in a crisis, Constance grabbed her diary and opened it to the first page, seeing her own writing appear before her. She had used the diary to contain all of her unpleasant memories, so that they could be pushed to the back of her mind. She didn't like to dwell on her far from rosy childhood. But now, she really needed to be brave and enter her unpleasant past to rescue Mildred. She braced herself for the unpleasant sensation of entering the diary and being reunited with the memories she would rather forget.
"Why is it always Mildred?" She asked herself as she felt herself fall into the black vortex.
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