Jessica Sorensen [Sorensen - Monster Academy for the Magical, #1

Monster Academy for the Magical

Jessica Sorensen

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Copyright 2019 by Jessica Sorensen

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I t was the darkest of nights, no moonlight visible. The sounds of the mothers screams could be heard across the land, sending fear throughout the realm. But the babys cries overlapped it.

Help her, the father of the baby whispered.

He wasn't certain if he was talking about his baby or his wife. Well, now that he had seen what sort of creature the baby was, he realized she probably wasn't his. But he could barely process this painful revelation as his wife continued to scream, pulling at her hair, her face pale with exhaustion from giving birth only minutes ago.

The witch doctor still remained in the room, but the rest of the coven had bailed once they laid eyes on the baby, saw what she was, saw the shadows in her eyes.

A maddening, the doctor whispered in horror as he backed away from the bloodstained bed where the baby lay beside her mother, kicking and screaming.

The mother had tried to hold the baby at first, despite everyones fears.

She wont hurt me, she promised.

But the baby had hurt her. Had made her go mad, poisoned the mothers brain with her power of madness.

Oh Gods, the father choked out as reality crashed down on him.

His wife had cheated on him. And with a Maddening, one of the most feared and rare creatures in the realms. And now they had a hybrid, half-witch, half-maddening baby on their hands, one that had stolen her mothers sanity within seconds of entering this realm. Not that it was the babys fault, but

A rage built inside the husbands chest.

Get it out of here, he commanded. Take it as far away from here as possible.

The doctor looked at him with wide eyes. "Sir, I don't think that's possible. You know maddenings can't control their power until they're older. And until then, anyone who tries to touch her is putting themselves at risk for getting cursed by madness."

Then put a spell on her. Spell her powers to be dormant. I know its possible to do on younger maddenings. He cast one last glance at the baby and a bit of guilt clutched at his chest.

For months, as the baby grew in his wife's belly, he had fallen in love with the idea of her. Now, though, that love no longer existed. Only hate did. And part of him hated himself for feeling this way, but he couldn't let it golet go of what the baby represented.

He turned to leave the room.

After we spell her, where do you want us to take her? the doctor called out.

He gave a stiff shrug. I dont care. Just as long as its far away from here.

And what about your wife? The doctor asked cautiously.

His wife let out a scream then, begging for the darkness to leave her.

He ignored her, though, reminding himself that shed done this to herself.

Get rid of her. Just make sure I never see her or the baby again, he bit out.

Then he stormed out of the room without so much as a glance back.

The next day, he made a vow to rid his thoughts of the baby and his wife. And for years, he hardly ever thought about them, except on the darkest of nights when no moon was in sight.

When only darkness thrived.

I ve always felt like I was different. Okay, different might be sugarcoating it. Honestly, Ive always felt like a freak. Like I cant relate to anyone. Like I dont belong in this world. And sometimes I wonder if maybe, just maybe, thats it. If perhaps I dont belong here. If maybe my curse ability means Im from somewhere else. That this curse means Im something magical. That it means what I did to my first foster mother all those years ago happened because I hadnt learned to control my magic yet.

Back in the day, I thought it was okay to tell people about my secret ability. Boy, was I wrong. This was something I learned the hard way after I told a couple of kids at my school that I believed I had magical powers, that I could sometimes feel magic crawling under my skin and voices whispering to me. I was immediately mocked, ridiculed, and deemed the freak that no one wanted to be around. But honestly, I probably didn't stand a chance anyway, considering what happened all those years ago

She was perfectly fine until she showed up, the mother of my foster mother sobbed to the police as her daughter, Mia, was wheeled out on a stretcher

I remember how Mia had to be strapped down or else she kept trying to claw off her flesh, insisting demons were living inside her. She had also said the same thing about me the first day I was brought to live with her. She had taken one look at my dark, nearly black eyes, and had frowned in disgust. Later, I heard her gossiping with her friends about how I must be possessed like some kid in a movie she had recently watched.

She had pretended it was a joke, but every time she looked at me, I saw the fear in her eyes. It didnt help that I was socially awkward and would barely talk.

And then one stormy night, the incident happened and now Well, Mia now spends her days locked in a psych ward.

And me? I do my best not to think about it, think about what I did. But sometimes late at night, it haunts my nightmares.

Maybe I really am a demon.

I've thought this many times, and part of me actually believes it. Not that Ill ever admit it aloud. Like I said before, I've learned to keep my mouth shut about those sorts of things.

That silence has led to me spending the entire seventeen years of my existence without any friends. While the loneliness can get to me, Ive learned to cope with it, learned how to exist by myself without going too mad.

One of the coping mechanisms that have helped me not go insane with loneliness is reading. Books and stories are my escape. Well, normally they are. Right now, though, my love for books may have sentenced me to a horrible punishment.

Earlier today, when I left my house, I thought it'd be okay to make a quick stop at the town book fair. I'd told myself I had plenty of time to hang out there and also have time to run the errands that my newest foster mother had sent me on. I should've known better, remembered how I get around books, how I lose track of time. Now, I'm realizing I never should've stopped and risked being late. It's not like I didor could've boughtany of the books anyway. I have zero dollars to my name. Always do. Being a foster kid my entire life, I rarely have any money of my own. And with me constantly bouncing through homes, getting a job is complicated. Not that I haven't tried. But no one wants to hire me. That doesn't surprise me since I've spent my entire life aware that most people are repulsed by me.