Part Two: Chapter One

Part Two: The Tiger

“Charlotte,” A stiff woman pushed on a girl’s shoulder. “You weren’t listening?”

Charlotte Montgomery, a girl slight of figure with glasses on her nose, rested her head against the window. By doing this, she hoped to cool herself from the muggy June air. “No, what did you say?” She murmured disinterestedly.

“I said that we’re almost there. Are you nervous about the new foster home? A couple of other teenagers are there. I’m sure you’ll fit right in. Ms. Lane was delighted when she saw your file.”

Charlotte looked over at her skeptically. “Yeah, so were Mr. and Mrs. DiRagno.”

“It’s going to be different this time, Chuck. I swear. It’s summer, okay? You’ll relax a little bit. And hey, you’ll be sixteen in August.”

“And celebrate the one year anniversary of my family’s death in July. Yippee.”

The woman gave Charlotte a small smile. “Chuck, please, cheer up. Everything is going to get better. Ms. Lane’s foster kids adore her almost as much as she does them. You’re a good kid. She’ll love you. Is that it?”

“Two sixteen Asher Drive.” Charlotte read off the house. Her stomach knotted at the sight of the grey-shingled house. She reached back for her knapsack. It now held all that remained of her dwindling wardrobe. Trying to soothe her aching leg, she rubbed it.

From the outside, the house seemed commodious enough. Cozy. It was nothing like the large empty estate of Mr. and Mrs. DiRagno.

The social worker was already headed toward the door by the time Chuck hopped out of the car. Stiffly, she knocked, a reverberating pang against wood.

A girl, a year or two younger than Chuck, and most certainly a few pounds heftier opened the door. “Charlotte Montgomery?”

Not wanting to disappoint, Chuck beamed at her and extended her hand to her. “Chuck, actually. What’s your name?” When her gesture wasn’t accepted, she deflated.

The girl turned without another word into the entryway. Then she called out, “Eve! Eve! The new chick is here.”

A woman tall and lean with dyed auburn waves of hair climbed down the stairs. “You must be Charlotte. It’s nice to meet you, hun. I know you’ve been through a lot, sweet, but I just want to make it better. You can always come and talk to me. Eve Lane.”

“Chuck Montgomery. It’s nice to meet you.” Chuck held her hand once again.

Eve Lane firmly shook it, a bit too firmly. She practically crushed it. “I know all about your handicap. I hope I can accommodate to it in anyway.”

Chuck insisted, “I’m not handicapped.” But at that moment, her leg throbbed.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone needs a little help in someway or another. Oh, I’m so excited. We hardly ever seen a new face around here.” She grinned broadly at Charlotte. “Do you want to get settled in?”

“That’s my cue to get going.” The forgotten social worked chimed in. She turned to Charlotte. “You have good chemistry going in this house. I’ll be back to check on you when things lighten up. It’s going to be great. Eve, a pleasure as usual.”

Eve gave her a small wave as the social worker retreated out. Then she looked at Chuck. The warmth from earlier was entirely gone, leaving a metallic bronze look in her eyes. “Go upstairs. You’ll be in the room next to the bathroom. We’ll talk rules after.”

Frightfully, Chuck scrambled up the winding stairs to the bedroom next to the lavatory. She saw how that could be a problem. There were two beds in the room. One side was white and barren. The other was black and purple.

Music blasted from a stereo on the other side. It was a screaming song. The closet was full of neon and black.

“Who the f**k, are you?” A girl snapped pinning Chuck against the wall. She knocked her chest. “Some prissy witch, huh? Charlotte?” She queried distastefully.

“Ch-Chuck actually. I prefer Chuck. ”

Again, she shoved her. “Oh, it’s cute because it sounds like a boy’s name. You’re a c**t. That’s your side. Stay on it. I knew I could expect you to be a scrawny size two c**t. I wasn’t expecting the glasses. No contacts? Poor pitiful you. Why are you in foster care? Did daddy slap you or you couldn’t go to that party? So damn sad.” She pushed her back against the wall. “You f*****g c**t.”

“I-it’s nice to meet you…?” Charlotte expected this girl to give her name.

“Lauren. Don’t f*****g bother though.” She had applied her eyeliner generously. Her clothes draped over her large figure. They were black, her color of choice it seemed. “See that? That’s your side. Don’t forget it. Should be enough room for your skinny a*s.”

Chuck swallowed, “Look, I don’t think you’re that tough, okay? I’ve had my head shoved in a toilet bowl. It’s going to take more than that to intimidate me. And…I’m not a size two. And my parents are dead. So is my brother.” She unfolded the photograph of her and her family; it had seen better days. Chuck was terrified of ruining it, her only picture of the four of them. She unfolded what was left of her clothing. Her favorite pair of jeans, a white tee shirt, a maroon sweater, a black tee shirt, a pair of basketball shorts, her long-sleeved warm-up shirt for track, and her undergarments. She tucked them into her drawers out of sight.

Lauren stared quizzically. “No other clothes, prissy?” She teased rudely.

Out of spite, Charlotte tore off the emblem of her sweater from Leman’s.

“What the hell are you doing?” Lauren snapped.

“Relaxing,” Chuck grunted as she left the room. As she descended down the stairs, she already needed to wipe her eyes; Lauren had said the word that she was most afraid to hear, witch. Another home where only her powers mattered, it seemed. Wandering, Charlotte found her way into the kitchen and sat at the table with Eve Lane.

“Let me first say that you’re a pretty girl.” There was no warmth in her tone. “And that’s a bad thing. You see, pretty girls learn early that whoring around will get them pretty much anything they want. I won’t tolerate a w***e in my house. I will make it my personal business to hurt between your legs so badly that you would rather kill yourself. Next, I will provide you with food and a bed. You had better be damn grateful for that because you come with a skimpy freaking check. You have chores; everyday, usually just menial things that need to get done. Easy enough, right? Finally, do not question my authority on any of my rules. Oh, you will not eat until tomorrow.”

“But I didn’t even do anything,” She protested.

Eve clutched Chuck’s throat. “What did I just finish saying? Don’t question me, Charlotte. You’ll end up in a hell of a worse place than this if you do.”

Charlotte swallowed against her tight grip. “I’m sorry,” She sputtered.

Eve’s hold slackened. “Better.” She smiled chipper and spiteful at once. “And if you think this is a free ride to use your powers, think again. I won’t tolerate any potion making in my kitchen, sugar. And don’t you dare cast any spells.”

Chuck gritted her teeth together at Eve’s complete lack of Wiccan knowledge. At least, she still had the few books that Lizzie insisted that Chuck take. Although the past six months had shown a significant improvement in Chuck’s powers, the Johnston’s insisted that she still had a lot to learn. With the new home, she had to teach herself.

“Did you hear me? I said, get upstairs!” Eve shrieked.

Chuck stumbled up the steps and into her new bedroom.

Lauren raised an eyebrow at her. “She won’t f**k you up too bad. She needs you. In fact, you’re probably the most valuable thing in the house.”

“What are you talking about?” She furrowed her brow, trying to understand.

Lauren laughed. “You see, Charlotte, Eve isn’t a foster mom. She’s a collector.”

 

Author's Note

Ow, ow! Part Two! Thanks for reading. Drop a comment if you have time or patience. Or courtesy. Just kidding.

Reviews

[Ardeth Lane]

-happy dance- Yay! Another chapter!

Okay, happy dance over. I'm curious what 'collecter' means and what'll happen to Chuck. She's a very rude lady but I think I like Lauren. She seems like she'll be a good character later on. Don't have too much to comment on yet but I am certanly (sp?) excited for the next chapter :)