HB Pencil :p

/Eyes as green as leaves in spring, and skin that will not touch water. She would make snakes come forth, and rabbits ran away. Everyone think she’s scary, because she’s always sulking in the great haunted tree. Her parents are somewhat British and she colors with black and white. She never eats. She doesn’t have any friends at all. Even the teachers are scared of her. People would call her a freak, and she rarely speaks. Sometimes she would tell that the door is cursed, or there’s going to be accidents, which would likely be true. She’s weird./
 
Malificent soak into the tub, letting the warm, lavender oil brush through her skin. Tomorrow, at school, what would she do? Eat all alone at lunch? Get balls thrown at her during dodge ball? She hates loneliness, but what more can she does, now that there’s no one beside her?
 
/She walks down the hallway as kids eat their lunch in the canteen. There’s nothing fun today, but her mum told her to go because she’ll meet someone destined. The fear of her blowing that chance is bad enough, so she makes sure she go to school, and has a good look at everyone before giving up. Today is her eighth birthday.
 
No one comes up with a ‘Happy Birthday’.
 
A boy, as pale as snow was going down the hallway, too, and he was going to open a door, probably a classroom or something, but there’s something dark glowing from that door, and she was itching to tell him. She wasn’t supposed to, but feeling pity, she screams.
 
The boy stops, and looks at her. She yells, “DON’T OPEN THAT DOOR!” but knowing that the boy probably knew about her, he opens it anyways. She’s right, there’s something bad about that door, because it fell towards him.
 
Before it crushes his face, she quickly yells ‘Awine!’, and the door fell beside the boy, rather than at the boy. The boy himself was shocked, his jaws dropped. A loud thud didn’t snap him, and Malificent has to run to him to see if he’s immobilized.
 
He didn’t cry. He just looked at Malificent in awe.
 
“How did you do that?” Malificent asks herself the same thing every day after that, too. She only heard her father once, and she was going to practice it with her father later that evening, but she already mastered it. All thanks to the boy.
 
“Y-you don’t see anything..” Malificent stutter, knowing her father will take care of this.
 
“You’re a wizard!” he said, again, in awe. “Like Harry Potter! You’re amazing! My name is Philippe, but you can call me Phil.” He held out his hand. “What’s your name?”
 
She just saved a boy from almost killing himself, and he wanted to be her friend? Most people would cry or think she’s more of a freak.
 
“I-uh, Malificent.”
 
“I like you, Mannie. Let’s have lunch together.” His smile broadened, and so did hers. For the first time in years, besides her parents, she’s has somebody who congratulates her birth./
--
About a week later, on morning time, Malificent still feels a lot bumped, walks to school. Her mother has forbid her to stay at home for another hour, and her dad is itching to give her an-all-day training.
 
Normally Malificent would say no, but for the first time, she said yes. If only her mother rushes her to school by saying staying at home would bring bad luck.
 
Screw bad luck.
 
Malificent doesn’t hate walking, but being alone for a period of time after so many years with Philippe just gives her the chills. She tried holding back her tears-since when does she become so weak?
 
Again, she hardly cries. She’s going to try and make new friends. Simple.
 
As she heads into her biology class, she notices that she hasn’t met either Philippe or Aurora, which indicates this, might be a good thing. She gets into class right before Mrs. Joy shows up, and slid down the chair. There’s absolutely nothing, and usually she’ll be dying to get out of this class to meet Philippe, but now, she has to manage all by herself. Not to mention Mrs. Joy just has to pair her up with someone for their next big project. She usually talks her way out of this boring partnership, but today, she decided she might has to change that.
 
“Hi, I’m Malificent.” Said Malificent as her partner slid down a chair beside her.
 
“Uh, hi, uh, I’m Joyce. Joyce Abrams and this is.. my boyfriend Stanley.” The girl with the ginger hair and her look-alike boyfriend smiled awkwardly. Malificent smiles politely, and cursing herself because a moment later, she forgets the boy’s name-again, they’re going to be stuck together for quite some time, might as well get the chance they slip their names.
 
The project itself isn’t that easy either; they’re dissecting insects and plant on their own, minimal of one insect and one plant, making a poster about the benefit of having those insects beside humans and a 5000 word essay about what they’re doing. They do have about three months to finish it and it counts 30% of their grade. While some kids groaned and do their assignments with gloom, Malificent is quite satisfied with her team. The girl is the teacher’s pet, and the boy is pretty good at dissecting stuff.
 
After half an hour of making plans, the bell rang out and Malificent smiles and put her books to her bag, cleaning her desk slowly for she doesn’t like the idea of being in the cafeteria all alone. Things don’t go like movies, where friends come and go. Here, if you’re alone, you’re alone for life.
 
Malificent walks down the crowded hallway, hoping she has the power to be invisible, or a cloak like Harry Potter’s-but that’s just pure fiction. She put her books on her locker, glancing to Calculus room and quickly looks away when she finds Philippe walking out with some guys from football. Guys have easier life.
 
Someone bump her from behind, making her papers and files fly like butterflies. Cursing, Malificent turn around and she faces Aurora.
 
“You freaking bitchh.” Said Malificent, gritting her teeth, clenching her fist so hard that her knuckles go white, for she’s trying so hard not to pull her wand from her boots and zap Aurora into a rat.
 
Aurora scoffs. “At least I’m not a pathetic loner who has no friends.” Malificent’s heart sunk deep. She pulls her fist in the air and punch Aurora in the stomach. Instead of a scream or pain, the girl slap her, and they emerge into a cat fight, one that was so bad that no one dare to stop them-So begin the pain in the boobs, the clawing, the screaming, the hair pulling, and Malificent could swear that her hair is falling out. They’re grunting and saying a lot of profanity words that a lot of students come down to watch, but Malificent can’t care less. This audience seems to keeps her sane, to make her remember not to pull her wands.
 
Not to make her nemesis into a frog-in the midst of a fight, she remembers that spell, which is weird enough since she never really used it; she just remembers her father’s lame joke. Someone held her waist and pull her up from the ground, further up that her feet doesn’t touch the ground, and the person lift her up so that her stomach will lay on the person’s strong muscular shoulders. Aurora opens her jaw, scoffs and stands up, putting on her heels and realizing that the heel itself broke. A red blush smears on both check and she looks as ridiculous as her nemesis.
 
“You three! My office.” Said Principal Kennedy out of nowhere, the audience break, leaving only the four of them. He was old, funny, and very likable, but when you’re in trouble, don’t even look at his eyes, which will turn you into snow.
 
Malificent notices the smell and the hair of this caring, strong boy, and quickly shut her eyes. Her eyes are all blurry, due to Aurora’s hit to her right eye, causing her to scratch Aurora’s face, but that doesn’t matter. Bad luck? Malificent prefers to stay at home.
 
This day is nowhere near normal.
 
They’re led into a room, cold as Alaska and the only light is from the desk lamp of Principal Kennedy’s table. The sofa itself has spots of dust and up on the ceiling there are spider webs, with spiders actually eating its prey, much like what Principal Kennedy is about to do.
 
Philippe doesn’t let Malificent go that easily though, knowing what would happen next, he casually put Malificent on his lap, hugging her stomach so when she’s about to yank Aurora’s hair, he’s ready to stop her. As much as this whole friendship thing ends, he still cares for her.
 
“So, fighting, disturbing class, and profanity words. I regret telling you this, but-oh, Miss. Nightingale, I suppose you can manage a seat on your own?” he said offensively. Malificent just shrug. She knows better than to try breaking free of Philippe’s grip, and even though her cheek’s all are red from the comment, she manage to keep her mouth shut.
 
“I think it’s better to keep these two this way, principal.” Said Philippe knowingly.
 
“Oh, and I suppose, you know what’s the punishment for all of you?” continues Principal Kennedy, rather annoyed that three of his best students are in jeopardy of expulsion.
 
“I’d like a detention.” Philippe continues, making the girls look at each other with their mouth open.
 
“Hell no! If I have to put up with-” said both, they both start yelling at each other, and Philippe have to tighten his grip so that Mannie stay on his lap. She dug her nails deep, wanting to break free, but she can’t.
 
“Fine!” Principal Kennedy now frustrated, smacking his desk, causing all three of his students to shock. He hates being angry at the three of them, but he has to. “Now, until school stops, you will stay here, and every day after school, for three hours, for three months, you’re going to stick together!”
 
Malificent feels her life being sucked out of her.
 
Three hours a day for three months with two people she doesn’t want to see.

http://quizilla.teennick.com./stories/18631944/im-in-love-with-my-teacher-and-hes-a-vampire-thats-something-you-dont-hear-everyday-characters01
 
*I changed the title, and by no means of offense. I own nothing, not even the casting of Jacob himself*
 
Rayne was your all American sweetheart, the typical girl next door with sweet sweet best-friend, Riley and Drew. Life was very amazing until her favorite English teacher has to leave school and thus, came in the handsome and mysterious Jacob Miles, the new, young teacher who sway away all the girls heart-including little Rayne.
 
Having a crush she herself has to keep alone was bad enough. He's a teacher-it's illegal, and he's NOT human. What could be worse, or maybe better? (Not to mention Rayne didn't know that she's Jacob's mate, which she still hadn't find out.)
 
A great story, not a tad too many chapters, I haven't read all of them, but I encourage you to :)

This freaking site won't let me register because it keep saying "Sorry, Quizilla couldn't complete your registration. Be sure to properly type the letters that match the image."
 
Idk what's wrong! The space bar? The caps lock?
comment/like/messege me and i'll PM you my email, username, password etc.
 
I'll even make you a Poem!

She cries, sobs, grunts, and here’s no way the tears from her eyes are going to stop any moment. She has put a charm on her door-something she’s forbidden to do-so that everyone who touch it, except herself, will either be on fire, or just stunned. She doesn’t care anyways. There’s nothing anyone can do to make her feel better. Not even Philippe’s soothing voice or her mum’s blunt advice. She never cries before-well, maybe once, twice….. Thrice at most, but not like this! She never felt this way before, like being cheated;

All this time, her parents let Philippe guard her so that she can plan on murdering him? Or worse, so that he can stab a knife to her heart? Philippe knows 20 ways to hunt, he loves archery, he knows martial arts, he play sports, and one good throw of a ball to her skull and she’s dead! She never knows that the thought of dying would be so horrible-not to mention that she has to curse someone so that girl will have her baby?
 
She can’t get pregnant. Somehow this makes the tears flow harder. This doesn’t seem right for her, crying for the thought of being infertile-she never wants a baby anyways, but that was an option. She has none right now, and maybe she’ll never will.
 
She sat by the window, cursing, and realizing that the rain starts pouring down again, just like how it was on the morning. This is too much. In the morning, everything seems good, like an ordinary Tuesday, where all she has to worry about is Aurora with her mean words and spray bottle, or her tests.
 
It’s funny how Aurora always get away with her bullying, but this time, when she pour that water bottle to her-a new bar for bullying a witch-why should her mom tell her husband? Why should her dad pick this very day to tell her about an old story from the ancestors? This doesn’t make any sense to her.
 
One thing for sure, today is not her day. Nothing goes right. She climbs down, take her blankets and roll herself in it, sleeping on the hard cold floor. Sleeping might can’t help her problem, but at least a few hours of sleep wouldn’t hurt.
 
/she can smell the light water and pine wood. She flutters her eyes open, daring to see what her dream is this time. It was all green, and no light. Only some sparks of light from the sun, and it looks like dawn. She looks as her clothes-dark boots, heavy old robe and a pair of leather gloves. Funny, the gloves makes her curious. It was brown, made of animal, and it was carefully made, as if it’s meant for a prince, or a king-someone with lots of authority and power. She carefully walks down, and not long, the sound of birds chirping indicates that it’s almost sunlight. A wave of panic hits her, as if she’s meant to get away, but she’s so confused that she doesn’t know what to do. What does this mean?
‘Lyra!’ called someone from afar, a guy maybe, it’s hazy that she can’t even remember if the voice belongs to a guy or a girl, but whoever he is, he keeps calling. ‘Lyra, where are you?!’
She’s immobilized, and before she knows it, something hits her from behind./
 
She gasps, trying to search for air. Her spine felt numb, and Goosebumps trails from her neck to her toe. She feels cold, but she’s soaking in sweat. What was that? What was that all about? Her dreams are usually her memories, but this time? Who’s Lyra, and why all that she can think of is the stupid glove? Panic hits, her so she try her best to breathe.
 
A hand strokes her back and pulls her up so she can sit. The hand, strong and firm, is preventing her weak, numb spine from collapsing. She looks up to find it was Philippe, looking at her with worried face, pale as moon.
 
“What is it? I hear you.. screaming.” He said, brushing her hair lightly from her face.
 
“I heard a voice.. I.. It’s just a silly old dream.”
 
“For what it’s worth, It’s not silly anymore. Nothing’s silly.” He said, smiling lightly.
 
“I know. It's green, and there's someone calling 'Lyra'. probably some kind of a nonsense. How come you’re so pale, Phil?”
 
“Your door-charm. It’s not burning or anything, but it feels as if my life is being sucked out the moment I enter this room.” Surprised that her door-charm works in her sleep-something rarely happens-Malificent quickly releases the charm with a flick of a finger. There’s color in his lips again, and she smiles, relieved that this doesn’t kills him. There’s nothing but the sound of their breath, in and out, in and out. After all the bizarre things today, the sound of breathing seems relieving to Malificent.
 
“Will you change, Mannie?” He asks, using his nickname for Malificent, something that will always makes her smile like an idiot. She always likes the way he says her name, as if she’s covered in fondue of fondness the moment he says her nickname. It took her some time that he was referring to the old story-of how he will kill her. She, again, feels like crying. She let go of his support on her spine and stands up, looking through the window.
 
“You’ll kill me.” She said, barely hearable in a whisper. She waits for her tears to come, but none. There’s no water in her eyes, only sadness and dry. Philippe’s face is a mixture of hurt and disappointment, but behind those eyes, he knows that this is very likely to be true.
 
“I know. I just... Wish it’s not now.” He said, because saying that he won’t, will not make any difference to Malificent’s heart. She has changed, or maybe she will be, but things won’t be the same anymore.
 
“I’ll miss you, Phil. I really will, now that I remember that you’re my only friend. Will you?”
 
Philippe sits still, smiling to himself, looking through all the memories he and Mannie shared, because now that it’s almost the end of their friendship, he realizes how much he depends on her, that she keeps him sane, and she helps him to .. be him.
 
Malificent-the girl with the brown hair, green eyes like grass in the morning, lips as pink as pink roses, and laugh like an apple crisp. He looks at Malificent, and planted a kiss on her forehead, for the first-and sadly the last-time.
 
“I wish I won’t have to kill you, but witches are very good at making curses.”
 
“Even if you do, please make it quick.” She says in a matter-of-fact tone, smiling. She hugs him, smelling him, remembering that Philippe, the guy with brown hair like oak wood, with fading freckles hanging on his nose, with skin lightly tanned by trainings (on how to kill her), and with smile as radiant as the sun. The one who will always wake her up at three in the morning and tutor her even though he would sometimes get a kick in the butt, her go-to guy, the one who would always laugh at her jokes, who will always calm her down when she’s frustrated with her wizarding life, he’s.. the one.
 
“Should we really do this, Mannie?” Philippe asks, even though he knows the answer. He can’t hope that she would say no, though. He’s going to kill her, but only when the curse takes effect.
 
“It’s for the very best.” Malificent sighs. Philippe shrug, and Malificent takes one kiss on the kiss. They smile at each other, and, realizing that it's time, Phillipe stands, brushing Malificent hairs with his fingers until he's fully up, and walks away, not looking back, leaving Malificent in the darkness of her room. A small light from her window, and showing signs of dawn.
 
Thus come morning,
and thus, ends their friendship.

trying on new idea..

As much as she loves to faint and let the day pass in a blur or darkness, she can’t. Malificent’s father has to drag her down to the study room to teach her more about ancient witch-writing and potions. She rues the day witches invented a new style of writing. She can handle French, German and even Greek, but no. Her father just happens to know witch-writing. Her body isn’t that painful anymore, only a bit hazy and weak like after a sports Olympic. Her mum said that she’ll be fine, if there’s Philippe beside her, and she never ask why shouldn't he.
 
He never accompanies her before on her practice. The fact that Philippe know that she’s a witch is already more than enough. Her father usually forbids Philippe to see Malificent’s lesson or training, so for him to do so is rather odd. This day has been bad enough for Malificent, so any kind of fondness or goodness is welcomed with pure joy.
 
The three of them-Annie, Philippe and Malificent walk down the hallway, further down into the corner of it, and down the wooden staircase from the trap door. From there, everything is old and eerie, with wooden walls and creaking floors. When she was little, Malificent would wander here all day with Philippe, and as she grew, she would sometimes wonder why this basement holds so much power on holding the weight of the house, but then there are more important things she should learn and think of, so she never remembers to ask. Now, why should she? It seems like a silly matter, and with all the magic going on in her life, that seems to be the appropriate answer.
 
They face the big double door old door, and find Mr. Axel Nightingale himself, sits with a heavy frustration on his face. Annie gives a courtesy, left the room and closes the door behind him while the remaining two stands until Philippe decided to sit, knowing that when Axel focuses on his work, he sometimes would forget the people surrounding him.
 
“So, uh, I ‘eard you ‘ave a pretty rough day at work,” He said after what seems to be 15 minutes. Sometimes, Mr. Nightingale has a weird accent, unlike anything Philippe, Malificent or even Annie has ever heard.
 
“Yes. I, um, got hit by water-or getting splashed by. Well, to make it simple, I have contact with water.” Malificent said, rather unsure. Her mother would know if there’s something wrong-she would has foreseen it, but why would she tell her husband? A teenage girl in school, it’ll be not weird if trouble didn’t find her.
 
“By the princess?” There’s a tone of heat in Mr. Nightingale’s voice, and anger rushes down his veins, but his face remains cold and expressionless. Malificent finds herself in a shock. She repeats every word her father just said and thought if this makes any sense, but it doesn’t.
 
“By Aurora, yes, Axel. On purpose, I think. What is it?” Philippe cuts in.
 
“’emember when I told you you two are related by some kind of bond?” He clears his throat. “Oh, I’ll just let Bridget tell you guys. Bridget! Bridget!!”
 
A split second later, Bridget appears out of nowhere. Again, magic from thin air.
 
“What?” Bridget Nightingale asks with a tone of annoyance. She was in the middle of watching TV shows, and one of them is introducing her talent’s music videos. It’s pretty good-not as bad as people thought, in a matter of fact, they were marvelous-and she was just in the middle of going to call her boss before she’s being dragged in magically into a sickening time distortion and thrown by teleportation to her husband’s study. She always hates teleportation no matter how efficient or urgent it is, and this seems to run down to Malificent, too. Philippe likes teleportation, and since he isn’t a wizard, this is a rare thing to him, and Annie on the other hand seems to prefer walking because it’ll be more polite.
 
“You know, I think it’s time to-“
 
“I know, but why me?” But she doesn’t need an answer for that. Instead, she sits to a couch across her daughter and pats the couch next to her, inviting her husband, who takes the invitation as a sign of forgiveness-which is true, for Axel Nightingale only uses teleportation on his wife for urgent things, because he respects his wife’s discomfort in it. Bridget Nightingale clears her throat, and tells her daughter and her friend not to interrupts until her eyes says so.
 
“Well, do you remember the tale ‘Sleeping Beauty’? The one about the witch and sleeping princess, Rose tower and brave prince? Well, it’s all true. But it’s not as sugar coated as it is. Our race, the witch, has our own story passed generation to generation, and it is proved as the true one.
 
Long time ago, there were two witches in the country. The good one, and the bad one, and these witches caused many trouble because they’re always fighting. Ruins and magic creatures spread everywhere and it’s a mess.
 
The bad witch then disguises herself as a beautiful young princess, and pretends to be taken hostage. The people were outraged, because she appears like their princess, and they began to hunt the good witch, who was healing herself from injuries in the woods. By this time, the bad witch breaks into an apothecary store and steals a potion that can make you sleep for a period of time-the effect is different for every person-and ran into a high old abandoned tower. She then takes a full bottle and sleep.
 
The good witch, aware of this, changes herself to a dragon, and fully protects the tower. She sets a briar rose so big and thick that no one can disturb the tower. The people can’t do anything, and they figures if they leave the dragon alone, peace will come.
 
This, of course, is way out of the bad witch’s prediction, for she predicts that there will be a battle between the good witch and the people, causing the good witch to die.
 
Rumors spread that a beautiful young lady was trapped in a tower, and that’s when a Prince come in. He’s the greatest in all land, and having fairies by his side, he take down the dragon, not knowing that the dragon he’s taking is guarding the tower for a reason. But the prince, hypnotized by the young lady sleeping before him, kisses her, and about that time, the effect of the medicine wore off and the bad witch wakes up. The prince, deluded, thought that it was because of the kiss.”
 
Malificent takes out her breath, realizing that she’s been holding it for quite some time. She absorbs everything her mother has told, and quickly thinks to herself. It’s just a silly old witch story, right? Why her mother should tells her this now, with Philippe by her side?
 
“What happened then?” asked Philippe, who looked as if he has choked air. He looked tense, his knuckles whitening from his strong grip.
 
“They get married. After a few years, the castle seems to be getting worse, and later on, by the help of a fortune teller, the Prince found out that his wife is a witch, the bad one. Regret filled him, so he tried to kill himself by taking poison every night for a sip, and he poured some to his wife’s tea. The witch, unaware of this, takes it every day, and too, became weak, unlike the prince, who starts dying.
 
At the edge of his death, the prince tried to kill the witch by stabbing her in the heart while she sleeps. The witch was shocked to open her eyes with a knife stabbed on her heart-this of course, do not kill her-but weaken her so much that she too, almost died. She then put a curse on him, that when she dies, every 10th generation of theirs will have the same fate as them.”
 
“But how can she get have a generation?” Malificent asks, now fully paying attention.
 
“The good and bad witches choose their baby before their death on some girl in the village. A curse so terrible that the girl they choose will have their baby, and when the baby’s born, the mother will die instantly. The bad witch died, the prince healed himself, got remarried, and has a baby accidentally-or I would say, fatedly.”
 
By this time Malificent feels so airheaded that she has to grip on the armchair next to her to stay hold of herself, and Philippe can only grip Malificent’s hands so he wouldn’t punch a wall or grip his own to bleed. After some while, they sigh and can only stare at Mr. and Mrs. Nightingale for further information.
 
“So what you mean is..” Philippe trails off.
 
“Look, we’re sure that you, Malificent and this Aurora have a connection, and we’re sure you have their blood. But what we don’t know is whether Malificent is the good or bad witch. I’m pretty sure, by the dreams you had when you’re little and your ability that you’re the-“ Mr. Nightingale said, decided it is his time to speak, to lift off this heavy atmosphere.
 
“Stop.” Interrupts Malificent, not wanting to know the continuation. Before she knew it, she dashes off upstairs, to her room, finding out that she’s crying.
-------
It's getting faster and faster, not sure if I'm gonna slow down/speed up.. I'm sorry.

“’Gain,” said Mr. Nightingale, sighing heavily, not concealing an ounce of disappointment. He sank down his favorite armchair as he looks desperately to his only child, Malificent, whose mind is elsewhere. He feels a hand holding his, and he smiled tiredly. His wife, coming to end their lesson as usual.
 
“Wait until this one time, it’ll work.” Mrs. Nightingale said reassuringly and of course, knowingly. She has the ability to see the future for a flicker of time, and most of it is accurate. Their daughter finally realizes her parents are looking at her, and she straightens her back.
 
“Ouragans.” She said boldly, waving her old wand and smiles as a small typhoon, no taller than her knees, start whirling everything in circular motion on the radius of 2 meters. Books, ink, old parchments, and small notes began to fly in the air. But after a minute or two, it all stops suddenly without command, again.
 
“It’s an improvement, no?” said Mrs. Nightingale as her husband glares to her for false information, causing expectations to rise. Still, she was right. He shrug, then swing his own wooden wand-the one that always smell like fire and roses-into the air, and everything go back to normal. He then tells her daughter to go to her room.
 
It’s nearly dawn, and today’s lesson isn’t as good as he expected to be. Malificent’s ability still lies in her emotions. She’s a very talented wizard indeed, for she can master a lot of difficult potions and spells, but she lack small, crucial, simple spell. And any spell can be disastrous if she starts yawning.

His family is an old, but wealthy wizard. He inherits a lot of fortune, but he also makes so great money by working as a director on a hospital, as a pharmacist director. He doesn’t have a handful of siblings-distant or near-in fact, he nearly has none. His wizard family is one of its kinds.
 
His wife, however, was a very good future reading, and so, she become a music-hit-predictor in a multi-million recording company. It’s 95% accurate, and even if it’s not, the artist himself didn’t really have much to lose, for at least his album was sold to many people.
 
He rubs his temple as her wife cleans his desk, arranging them a bit and together, they walk out of his study.
--
“Wake up, sleepy head.” Said a boy, none other than 19, in the crack of dawn. No manners, thought most
people. It was just 3.30 in the morning, and even the crickets and cars have not woken up.
 
Malificent open her eyes and yawn, pulling more covers on her skinny body and roll. She doesn’t like mornings, much to her wizard blood. She adore the nights, the stars, because everything is alive at night. Everything. Except one though, humans. Not most of them, but some misses the best part of the day. Others enjoy it in a disrespectful manner, like drinking, partying or getting wasted. She, sometimes also spend the night in the ways she’s not comfortable with, like studying spells and potions with her dad-but she enjoy some of it, so it doesn’t really counts.
 
But the boy in soft brown hair and transparent freckles keeps nudging her, trying to wake her up, from the cheerful way, the strict way, even the seductive way, but none works on the little brunette. As if he was giving up, he sigh and as well lie on her bed, because the bed itself fit 2 (and a half) people. He looks at the girl in her sleep, drooling a bit-much to his dislike, but he’s gotten used to it. He closes his eyes, knowing what will wait for him in the morning, but he doesn’t really care.
 
As morning cracks, he opens his eyes once more, feeling a bit air-headed. He looks at the girl in disbelief. It’s perfectly morning, soft dew in some places outside, and rain. Rain pouring down like buckets spreading water, and thunder claps several times. The cold air hit him for some time, and he shivers a bit, and then jump out of bed.
Pointless to wake the girl, the boy walks steadily as he straightens some of his wrinkled clothes, and closes the door. He walks through the large hallways. This house wasn’t that big, but it was spacious. 2 floors and 10 rooms-3 for the family, 2 for the guests (often he uses one of them), 2 for the maid and the cook, the garden-taker and the driver, the amazingly large study room, the living room with pianos and tea-set tables, and a spacious dining room. The backyard is amazingly large, with a made-up little river and some bird cages, flowers here and there, and they usually have some tea or supper there.
 
“Morning, Mr. Lineman. So, has Ms. Nightingale woken up? Mr. and Mrs. Nightingale told me to fetch her.” Said Annie, the maid. She’s just 25 years old, with long curly blonde hair that’s always pulled to a perfect bun and long white nails. She has some freckles and blue eyes like the sky. She was so pretty, but Annie doesn’t fancy him, and neither does he. Annie is the best maid in the house (out of two), but the only glitch in her is, she’s just too polite. She spends 5 years being a maid in a huge old mansion of an old British family, so the thought of saying her master’s first name is ridiculous and disrespectful.
 
“She’s still asleep, and I think it’s safer for you to let her sleep.” He said, with a grin. “Again, Annie, you shouldn’t call me Mr. Lineman-just call me Philippe, and I think the rest of the family thinks so too.” And with that, Philippe smiles again, and walk down the spiral grand stair and walk to the dining room, where the smell of bread, sugar and honey filled his nose.
 
Mr. and Mrs. Nightingale both smiles as he enters the room, no suspicion or worry, as if he’s just another son. “Morning, Bridget, morning Axel.” he said as he slip down to a chair and start pouring himself some tea. Both of Malificent’s parents nearly plead to him to call them by their name, and at first it was awkward, but after a few months, he got used to it. The sound of thunder clapping, rain pouring harder and dark clouds indicates that the day might not be as good as anyone expected.
 
Nearly shoving his third bread down to his throat, a loud hysterical scream startled the three people in the dining room. Sighing, he quickly finishes what’s the remaining of his breakfast, sip his tea quickly that the hot liquid burn down his throat, and walk out back to the stairs after smiling to the pairing. He then found Malificent herself, hair all messy and a face of annoyance, with one pillow on the other hand. She smacks him twice-thrice if you count a throw at the end.
 
“I’ve told you to wake me up at four! I’ll have a mathematics test on the first period, you jackass!” she said, screaming in horror.
 
“I did, Mannie! Blame your eyes for not opening!”
 
“Blame yourself for not trying hard enough! School starts in one hour, and if it wasn’t because of Annie, I wouldn’t be here!” She said, groaning heavily. The cold humid air gives her some soothing sense, and she storms out to her room, to furious to even look at Philippe, who just stand there with a half smile.
--
“If I fail, it’s your freaking fault, Lineman.” Said Malificent, still furious as she slams her blue locker after putting some books and drinking water.
 
Philippe was just finished PE, and he quickly went to
check up on Malificent during break time just to find that she’s still mad with him.
 
“I thought you did well-I mean, the in the end you can do most questions I gave you.”
 
“It’s just-AAAH!” She gasped as cold water start running down her face, creating a soft sizzling sound down her skin-wizard blood, as people might guess. If she was a true wizard, she will melt right here down to the ground like a hot wax, but since she’s half human, she just has internal pain. The water sprinkling down her skin feels like hot coal, making her skin sizzle in the most disturbing way possible. Drinking water is safe for her, but touching water?
 
She prefers a silver bullet in the head much more.
 
She glare at whoever accidentally splash her that water, but she find no other than a purposely sunburned hand, that covers the owner’s natural super pale skin. Her blonde straight hair was tied up and a smirk is hanging on her lip glossed pink lips. An empty water bottle was pointed directly on Malificent’s chest, challenging her.
 
Malificent felt the urge to take her wand and burn her, but she held it for it’ll cause much trouble. Instead, she walks rapidly, knocking the girl on purpose and rush to the infirmary, where she’ll find no nurse and a phone. She dials her mother’s phone, only to know its being switched off. But she knows better to sit there and wait for her mom or dad to pick her up like a seven year old. Instead, she turns around and finds Philippe there, as handsome as ever, clicking his car keys together and grins.
 
With a sigh and tears on the edge of her eyes because the pain of the water is unbearable, she wraps herself to her and let out a small whisper, “Aurora.”

Walt Disney has sugarcoat so much-or maybe too much.
 
----
 
Yellow eyes, White teeth with fangs, green skin under the moon, ridiculously long nails, the smell of blood and skin which have not touch water, and wands.
 
"Witches".
 
People have always thought it was her who cats the spell on Aurora.
Her who died as a dragon.
Her who almost kill the prince, separating him from his love, and for a 100 years, she has take the blame.
 
But now, she's here, and ready to spread the truth. Maleficent Nightingale was a witch, in fact, the last one on her race.
Named after her great ancestor, she and Phillipe are going to change their fates, whom their ancestor have written for them.
 
Both will tell, what truly happen on "The Sleeping Beauty". And so, both will reveal
 
who's the wicked witch?

Idk, it's not his smile that i like.
It's his teeth. They just sparkling white. Without it, i don't think his smile would steal million of girl's heart.
it's like mini sun-rays planted to his teeth...