Chapter Text
15 years.
Emma has been trapped here for as long as she could remember.
Abandoned as a baby, according to the witch of a headmistress, she was left with nothing but a name. Emma was swiftly thrown into the nursery section of the building, raised by many of the adults. She was a rather.. odd child from the start, but apparently very crafty. The one thing that grew with her was her hatred for the place. Some of her feats, which landed her in a ton of trouble, were as follows; setting off self-created fireworks in the lunch hall, teachers room, and Headmistress’ library, attempted escape, setting fire to the west wing, causing panic in the lunch hall.. there were more, but those were the ones she was most proud of.
She just wanted to leave, in all honesty.
She was determined that this year, would be the year she gets out.
Emma was a girl with pale, light skin, brown hair, and green eyes. She stood at about 5 foot & 3 inches, with hair that practically pooled on the floor when down. In the braid it usually was in, it went down to just below her ankles, not quite reaching the floor. She was rather thin, but wasn’t everyone here?
Scratch that, no one was really “Emma thin.” Emma was almost sickly thin. She starved herself for either protest, or because she was often too sedated to even eat.
Today was Emma’s 15th birthday. Unfortunately.
She stood in front of her mirror, her hair a mess. She hadn’t braided or brushed it yet, hell, she didn’t even want to leave her room. For some reason, the Headmistress held her on a pedestal, which she hated with a passion, but it also made her have more access to things and her punishment more brutal.
Trying to drown out the noise of the other children moving about the dormitory halls, she sat down on her stool and grabbed her hairbrush. Brushing her hair was a grueling task, and she would have taken the Headmistresses offer to help her with it in the mornings, if she hadn’t hated the wretch.
As she ran the brush through her hair, she let her mind drift a bit. She didn’t know whether to call herself an inspiration, or a troublemaker. The latter was what the school dubbed all of them, of course, but many didn’t believe it. They all thought they were innocent and were thrown in because of abusive or neglectful parents, sent by the orphanage, poor academics, or for “help” as the school claimed it gave.
The school didn’t help anyone, honestly.
After finishing her braid and fixing her uniform— a black overall bib dress with a white, short sleeve dress shirt underneath— she stood up and headed over to the door, grabbed her dorm key, and sighing before stepping out. She turned to walk down the hall, before freezing and groaning in irritation as a dreaded voice stopped her.
“Happy birthday, Emma,” The headmistress said as the girl turned around and she clasped her hands together. “I expect you to not cause trouble today, I was going to give you a cake.”
”A drugged cake..” Emma grumbles under her breath, before forcing a smile, “Thanks, Miss Livingston, will there be candles?”
”It is a birthday tradition, is it not?”
Emma’s fake smile morphs into a slightly mischievous grin, before she covers it up with the same innocent look. “Of course, a tradition.”
The Headmistress nods, then walks away, leaving Emma to herself in the empty dormitory hall. The girl just stood there for a moment, practically ecstatic about the fact that there would be fire involved in a birthday event.
Now for the boring part. The day. Emma hated her classes, they weren’t even really classes. It was just like they held you in the room for god knows how long. Half the time, however, she was on nursery duty, which she at least tolerated. All that was, was just watching the infants and toddlers for a bit. She pitied them and their innocence, really. It was almost sad where they would be stuck.
After attending long, useless classes that taught her nothing and a few hours of nursery, Emma headed down to the Headmistresses library. Her private library. Arriving at the library, she took a second to kick one of the plants beside the door, before brushing the soil off her shoe and knocking on the door. A few seconds later it opened, revealing the Headmistress, who had a gift box in her hand.
”Come, come, sit.” The woman said as she walked over to a table with a cake, gesturing for Emma to follow.
Emma slowly walked over, her braid gently swinging behind her as she moved. There were other people in the room, the people she hated. She didn’t have to worry about them, though. Yet.
Sitting down at the other chair, which was placed in front of the cake, she looked at the Headmistress expectantly.
“Happy birthday, Emma,” The woman says after a moment, sliding the box over to her. “Another year older, a fresh start to becoming a wonderful young lady.”
Emma grumbles something under her breath as she takes the gift box, pulling off the lid and frowning at what was resting on the tissue paper. “What the hell is this?”
Miss Livingston sighed, “It’s a stuffed animal, Emma. I thought you seemed lonely.”
Emma pulls the small, crocheted fox plush out of the box, pushing the box onto the floor. “I don’t like foxes.”
”Well, at least you have a cake,” The headmistress says as she pulls out a lighter and lights the candles. “Go on, make a wish.”
Emma stared at the flames on the candles for a moment, before suddenly standing up and trying to shove the flame against the woman’s sleeve. The headmistress just stood up and backed up swiftly, causing her to miss. The girl let out an irritated scoff, trying to hit her with it again before feeling a prick in her neck.
No.
God, no.
This again. She had been given sedatives again.
Emma stood, frozen for a moment, stiff and still as the candle slowly dimmed and went out, before stumbling forward after a few moments and slumping into the Headmistresses now open arms.
Of course she expected this. The witch. Emma raised a partially limp and unresponsive hand to weakly hit her, as she reached over and handed the girl the plush. Emma took it and hugged it to her chest as she sniffled.
“Shh, shh, I’ll bring you to bed,” The headmistress says in fake affection as she half carries the girl back to her dormatory.