"Thus With a Kiss, I Die."

|Chapter 2

Sunday, a day of rest. But on this particular Sunday, resting was the last thing on my mind. I awoke early, desperate to get a start to the day. I showered, dressed quickly, and sat at my desk. Opening my journal, I started a list. Titled, "The Frankie Atkin Diary". 

I wanted more info. Growing up, my parents were dead set on their only daughter attending the Academy. My older brother, Theo, who was almost fourteen years older than me had attended and graduated. It did him good, apparently. 

So, I had been raised in the Cotswold's and taught all about it. On how I was dead set on becoming a student of the House of Cicero. It was my destiny. My family had all been Cicero's. After all, the Academy started as an institution in the 1800s, and my grandfather a long time ago had been one of the first-ever students. 

I was taught that being a part of Marcellus was a curse, and would do you no good. No-one associated with them and most were disowned by the members of their family. 

They were such a mystery, however. No one knew much about them. It seemed all they could figure was the part about them being "bad", or "evil", "satanic", or "cursed". You didn't speak about them, and if you did, it was hushed.

I always found myself particularly keen on the idea of learning more about them. My subconscious had been trained to think of it as wrong, but when I was younger, I secretly wished I would be put into the House of Marcellus just to see what it was really all about. 

As I matured, I learned better of course, but it sometimes still sat at the back of my mind.

So I sat, trying to list everything I knew about her. What her words may suggest, or her body language, or even where she was from. But to my conclusion, I fell upon the fact that I truly knew next to nothing.

I collected my belongings, rapidly stuffing a jumper into my bag along with my usual journals and pens. I stepped quietly, careful not to wake Isabelle so she wouldn't query as to why I was sneaking out of the dorm at half six on a Sunday morning.

I headed to the gardens, which was my favorite place in the Academy. Set in the English Countryside, you were pretty much guaranteed the vast green landscape, and beautiful fields of wildflowers.

But something about the gardens within the Academy made it so much more special. It had a a bit of an eerie feel to it, especially in the early dawn. 

Covered in a thick mist, I entered through the age old massive gates that led in. It was completely deserted, which was only to assume. After all, no student would want to do endure the cold, rainy, foggy day to come, especially when they could sleep instead. 

There were ancient benches that surrounded the premises of the lawn, and an abundance of ivy that scaled up the cracking pillars that seemed incredibly out of place. 

The gardeners tried their best to keep it tamed, but no matter what, you still felt a sense of abandonment when you were finally in.

It encompassed you, and was somehow claustrophobic, although you had to remind yourself that it was only a plain old garden. The plants and flowers were long gone however, mainly because of the harsh winter months, which set most students off, but I suppose that's what drew me nearer. 

I gained a spot on one of the dewy benches, and sat down. I pulled out my journal and tried my best to wrap my head around any other thoughts I might have about Frankie. 

Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zite. Zilch.

As I stared out into the fog, I couldn't help but notice the subtle movement just beyond the white cast. There it was again. 

I began to feel incredibly anxious, and on edge. I tried to convince myself that it was most likely just another student, and tried my hardest to block out the voice questioning why another student would be in the gardens at quarter to seven on a Sunday morning. 

I tried to reason with the voice, of course. Perhaps it was an animal? A weasel or a fox? Sightings were not uncommon. 

A sick feeling still sat at the pit of my stomach.

But then, as per, it started to walk towards me. My brain was telling me to get up, and escape, but my body was incredibly curious, so I sat still, awaiting the arrival of the silhouette.

Inch by inch, moment by moment, time had seemed to stop. It was no longer October second, at six forty-five in the morning. It was just empty time, empty beauty, empty minds. Because there standing in front of me, was Francine Atkin herself, covered in blood.

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Hi! Okay... so....

First off, apologies apologies apologies! I know it's been a little while since my last chapter, I was out of the country, in Annecy, and had no wi-fi or internet. I got back late Saturday, so I wrote most of this on Sunday, and the rest on this Monday morning. 

I also apologize as to how short this chapter is! I was determined to leave you with a cliff-hanger, it just seemed fitting. But not to worry, I'll be writing all this week, and will get a new chapter out to you in the very near future.

What do we think of Chapter Two? I'm really hoping that it's meeting your expectations. Thank you a bunches for reading :)))

Love you loads, xx

Lottie <3