The Witch's Doll ⚢

Chapter 11

Isla was able to get up in the morning. Her night was filled with nightmares and her morning thoughts haunted by Parker's death. She was not looking forward to today but she had a duty to be there at school.

Her body was set in a motion when she took a shower and dressed for school. She was brushing her hair in front of the mirror, applying some makeup striving for a natural look when her mind did a rewind of the events last night.

It was a sight for inducing nightmares for her entire lifetime. It was a mystery why some detectives and police weren't scarred for life.

Isla stared boringly into her eyes at her reflection. As if, somehow she was waiting for the mirror to move and talk some sense into her. She grabbed her makeup to hide the ugly marks that marred her pale visage.

After a long car ride, her memory of how she arrived at the academy was a hazy blur. All she knew was that her chauffeur was driving away.

"Our condolences Isla!" everyone immediately greeted her. Not knowing how their faces light up at the sight of her or even send a high-pitched voice to her ears actually reminded her that today was not a pleasant morning, but a reminder that Parker Hurley died last night.

Isla wasn't surprised at all when she learned that Amani had written another incriminating article about Parker Hurley's untimely death and how the cops could not help a preventable murder from happening.

When she saw a friendly face in the crowd, Isla wanted to surround herself with that familiarity. Evonnie; however, was not alone. Seeing another face that haunted her dreams overwhelmed Isla with a sudden need to bask herself in shame. Though she was certain when Miss Adams glanced at her, she noticed the flabbergasted expression plastered to the Filipino's face.

Despite the inane fear that developed, Isla still headed out to Evonnie.

"Something wicked came this way," Alessandra murmured to herself, her playful eyes gazing at Isla. She looked like she was expecting to see a pair of red horns on Isla's head or something.

Isla paid no attention, striking a little conversation. Isla longed for something uplifting today and she was hoping that Evonnie's sincerity and childish behavior could somehow infect her.

However, with Miss Adams beside the jolly brunette, it seemed impossible. Isla could feel the anger and disbelief 10 feet away so she quickly left their company.

She refused to linger in.

Today wasn't her day at all. As hundreds of students, staff, and even professors stopped her on her tracks to continue giving their condolences.

After fleeing the scornful and sympathetic gazes of everyone who have heard of the news, Isla swore under her breath and took off for her first period. On the way there she was hindered by gossipy girls and mocking boys twice and while she was normally good at dodging them, her scattered state of mind was a hindrance to her reflexes, and it cost her.

Thus, Isla was thoroughly irritated and harassed as she entered the Linguistics classroom five minutes late. The professor was also the Deputy Headmistress, a Scottish woman named Rhona Cormag, paused in the midst of her lecture and after scanning Isla's disheveled appearance just shook her head sadly.

"Quickly take a seat, Miss Cecil." Professor Cormag was kind but unmercifully biased when it comes to her.

Isla went up the rows. Her stomach sunk when she saw that the only available spot was, of course, at the back of the class, besides Henri.