In the forest primeval,

A school for Good and Evil

Two towers like twin heads,

One for the Pure and one for the Wicked

Try to escape, you'll always fail

The only way out is through a fairytale.

Sophie

I sat with Agatha by the lake, looking out at the glistening water. Aggie was lighting matches then throwing them out into the ripples like skipping stones. On the other hand I was sitting cross-legged beside her, humming softly to myself as I braided Agatha's hair.

"Sophie, why are you friends with me?" Agatha said quietly, breaking the peaceful silence.

I stare at her intently for a minute before replying softly.

"Who wouldn't want to be friends with you?" giving Agatha a warm smile.

The raven haired girl sucked in a deep breath before responding.

"But I'm the loner girl with a witchy mom. I live in a graveyard with my cat and despise little children. You, on the other hand, adore children, kind and caring. How could you possibly stick up with me?"

I grabbed her arm and drilled a hard stare into Agatha's big, brown eyes.

"You're my best friend Aggie! Please don't ever listen to what the villagers say. They are misguided and cruel and do not deserve to feel your kindness. Don't let hem get to you okay?" I hugged her tightly and Agatha stubbornly gave into the embrace.

I pulled away and tried to lift the mood. "Let's eat our picnic!"

It was a splendid spread of buttery biscuits, just like Agatha enjoyed them with sandwiches filled with ham, cheese and lettuce. Along with a pint of lemonade each, they both soaked in the last few rays of warmth before the sun began to set.

I packed away the picnic set and Aggie picked up her discarded matches which she stuffed into the pocket of her black trench coat. I finished packing and grabbed Agatha's arm before engaging in conversation back to their village.

We approached Agatha's graveyard and I couldn't help but shiver. My mother is buried here and I can just make out her headstone. Goosebumps spread up my arms as I focus on the porch of Aggies house as we saunter up the hill.

We ascend the creaky wooden steps and Agatha says goodbye before shutting the door.

"I'll see you tomorrow Agatha." I say with a delicate smile and Aggie nods in agreement before whisking her cat in her arms and disappearing from sight.

Twirling on my heel, I rearrange the basket in my hand before rushing back down the hill and through the graveyard gate, only looking back once. The graveyard really did petrify me.

As I skip into the town centre I pass Harlow the homeless man and pass him the rest of our picnic on to him. Harlow smiles a gap-toothed grin at me and I accept his thanks graciously.

"Oh don't worry Harlow, there's no need to thank me. You should be thanking Agatha, she's the one who doesn't like strawberries."

Harlow's expression goes sour at the mention of Agatha and I feel upset. What had Agatha done to make the whole village dislike her?

I ignored the thought and said goodbye to Harlow before hurrying home, wanting to make sure that the Sunday roast wasn't burnt to a crisp. It was her father's favourite meal after all.

My light-blonde hair tumbled at my waist in pretty ringlets as the villagers whispered to themselves.

There she goes.

The blonde beauty.

She'll definitely be picked for Good.

I ignored their stares and headed into my cottage, checking on the boys and Honora before making final preparations to the Sunday Dinner. The front door opened and shut before loud footfalls could be heard and shuffling as Father removed his boots.

"Father! Thank goodness you're home, you must be so tired. Have a seat and I'll bring in a cup of tea." I say, fussing momentarily.

"My dearest Sophie. How are you? Oh thank you I'll just be in the living room."

I smile gently before heading off to warm the water and prepare the tea.

The whispers of the villagers still echoed in my ears.

Agatha

I laid curled up in my bed, Reaper's hairless skin rubbing against my chest. Squinting in the darkness, I reread my favourite storybooks which were usually about the strong antagonist roles. I'm not sure why but the Evil ones always seemed more believeable and real to me.

Perhaps that's why I related to them so much.

I sighed and let my hand drop on the part of the story where Rapunzel's Prince is thrown into the thorns below her tower and becomes blind. Somewhere deep in me I wanted to be the one to push the Prince form the tower.

Shutting the storybook abruptly I buried myself under the covers of my bed, Reaper purring contently into my stomach.

I fell asleep to the rhythmic purring and the tapping of rain against the windowpanes.

A/N

Chapter One of Purely Wicked. Review but please no horrid flames my self-esteem wouldn't be able to take it. No one'll read this but who cares. LOVE YOU BYE XXX