I was seven years old when I first got called a Witch.
People had always wondered about me. My parents didn't talk about my adoption, so neither did I. I knew about it, but I didn't think anything of it. I didn't really understand the meaning of the word. I had a family, why should I care if they weren't the first people to hold me when I was born? They loved me, they cared for me, that's all that mattered.
I had mum. She was blonde and plump, she had rosy cheeks and her hair was always near and tidy. She wore casual jeans and casual tops, and would pick me up from school in her citroen, just like every other mum.
I had a dad too. He was short, bald, and had a giant birra belly. He had a laugh louder than the sound of a tractor, smily eyes and was always fully of a lame jokes.
Sometimes the two of them would argue, and I'd sit there with my hands cupped over my ears, blocking out the noise. They'd always make up again though. Always.
I had a brother too; he came along when I was about four years old. My soft mum and chirpy dad asked me if I'd like a sibling, maybe a little brother?
I wasn't so sure at first. They boys at school were disgusting and annoying and their humour was limitted to farting. But they took me with them to see a social worker. There was a mother there. A sad looking, thin, dark haired lady who was holding a little wailing bundle.
"Here Emily, look, isn't he lovely", my mother said, smiling at me. The baby was crying, though she was right, he was lovely.
The strange woman placed him in my arms, and immediately, he stopped crying. I saw my parents grasp eachother and exchange delightful dlances. Then I looked down and saw wide, blue eyes staring at me. I stared back, and I knew that I had a baby brother.
He was still a toddler at that point, crawling round and burbling in his funny little language, little Ben. He'd go to his nursery group and play in the sandpit. I, on the other hand, had to go to school. Proper school.
I didn't mind school actually. I was good at English, Art, Drama and Music. And I had a best friend. The bestest friend I could every wish for. She was fair, dainty and a happy little girl who accepted me for who I am. We'll call her Charlotte. We played imaginary games together and made up a secret language. Every weekend we had a sleepover and would alternate houses, and a lot of the time we would arrange to go to eachother's houses after school. We were best friends, and we knew that we always would be. I helped her come up with ideas for english homework, and would help her with the notes on the Pianoforte and teach her how to present herself in drama. She'd help me me with my maths and science and french homework, explaining things in a much simpler way that the teachers. We did it together. We ignored everyone else and what they thought of us, mostly what they thought of me
), we didn't care.
I was a funny looking kid. I had the longest hair imaginable. Long, dark, wild, curly hair which I could sit on without any effort. My mum brushed it for me every morning, every night, but it didn't stop it from getting tangly. It was my cappotto for protection. I didn't care that it wasn't neat and tidy and perfect like everyone else's, I wanted to be me, and that meant that my hair was wild free, flying behind me in the wind.
I always had to tie it up twice a week for PE. I was useless at handling it da myself, so my mum would send me to school with bunchies, multi-coloured hairbands, braids and dozens of plaits. I was still unique, I still felt like me.
I had big
strange eyes too. If te had to classify them, you'd say they were hazel, but they're not really. They were brown and green sure, but te wouldn't say they were hazel. The green in the was so green you'd call it bright emerald, and the brown was so dark it could be black. If te were to look closely, you'd see that patterns were formed in them, tiny, weird, unusual patterns that people didn't like to pay too much attention to. Because if they were to pay too much attention, they've have to cerca for impossible explanations.
I had pale skin, pesca, peach lips and dimples that wouldn't fade when I smiled. My mum would tell me that I was a cute, pretty kid. It made me feel happy, special. Now I realize that she probably never meant it. She was just doing her job.
I had a soft haired, smily teacher at school. She held our hands in the playground and would cuddle us if we fell over and hurt our knee. Me and carlotta, charlotte never really hung on her hand o needed any cuddling. We were happy on her own.
But then, a girl got involved; she just had to. We'll call her Nina. Nina was the sort of child that thought that the whole world revolved around her. She had long blonde hair and blue sparkly eyes. Her skin was perfect; there wasn't even one freckle on her nose. She was mean, she was spiteful. She had a friend called - Ashley. Ashley was like her personal doormat, following her around and hanging on her every word. She was blond too. Just not quite as pretty and pristine as Nina.
We were sitting in class, Leggere our Leggere books. Well, me and the majority of the class were. I was Leggere the first Harry Potter book. My mum had been Leggere them to me ever since I was small, and I'd now decided that I could tackle them da myself. carlotta, charlotte was slotted in successivo to me at our desk, Leggere her copy of a Jacqueline Wilson book.
I could hear Nina and Ashley whispering behind me, giggling. I blocked the noice out, determined to keep myself centred in Hogwarts with Harry, Hermione and Ron.
They wouldn't be quiet though. The constant rabbiting was burning in my ears. I looked over at the teacher, but she was busy on her laptop, zoned in. I sighed, and carlotta, charlotte rolled her eyes at me, mostrare me her annoyance as well.
That's when I felt something prodding me in my back. I turned round sharply to see Nina and Ashley snorting hysterically. "Grow up", I said, in my little seven-year old voice, but they just ignored me and laughed harder.
I turned back round, and I felt it again. A hard, sharp pain that made me flinch.
I moved to face them. "Go away
" I detto angrily.
"Calm down Emily, it's just a joke. Why do te take everything so seriously?" Nina said, poking me again with her badge.
"Why do te have to be so horrible?" I'd replied, and Nina had sneered.
not horrible, I'm not the one that loves some random people più than my own mum and dad". Nina had said, meanly.
I didn't understand what she meant at first. If only I hadn't asked.
"Well", Nina had continued. "You just left your mum and dad and got yourself adopted, didn't you? Did te not think about their feelings at all?" she jeered. She wasn't confused, she knew exactly why people got adopted.
"You know it wasn't like that", I'd growled.
"Oh, what was it like then Em? Oh, silly me, I forgot. It was your mum and dad who didn't want you
. And I don't blame them, look at you! You're so ugly and stinky!" she'd said, holding her nose, and Ashley laughed and did the same.
I burned bright red, staring at her, staring.
carlotta, charlotte touched my hand and I jumped in alarm. "Ignore her", she detto to me, but my eyes were fixed on Nina. She was swinging on her chair, swinging. She had a smirk plastered all over her smug little face. She'd won.
successivo thing I knew, Nina was lying on the floor, crying, blood dripping all over the room. The ambulanza came and took her away. She came back to school a few days later, stitches in her head. She didn't make eye contact with me. But I heard her talking to Ashley behind me.
"It was her Ash. It was Emily; that stupid girl. She made me tip over, I swear."
Ashley had nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I saw the way she was looking at you. She's so creepy. She'll pay back for what she did for you."
"Of course. That Witch."
I wondered for ages after all. I wasn't like Harry Potter, I couldn't make things happen with my eyes, I wasn't a real witch. Nina had slipped too far, I knew that, she must have known that really. But the name stuck, and I was blamed - da everyone. I wasn't a witch I knew. I didn't ever make anything happen at all, not before o after the incident. But I liked the idea all the same.
I was Emily. Brave, bold, mysterious and magical.
The Witch. What più can te say?