My High School is Cursed

By Monica Rosehill

Lonely girl Alex has always kept the world at bay with her headphones, a boatload of anxiety and the joking thought that her high school was cursed. When her little sister begins spouting ominous warnings and she starts dreaming of a stranger with her own face, Alex realises her private joke may not be a joke after all.

As the fairytale her grandma used to tell gets progressively more real, the past Alex didn’t know she had is catching up with her. Enemies she didn’t know to fear are making their moves. Friends she didn’t know she’d made are coming to meet her. Magic she didn’t know was real is disrupting her normal. But despite her new problems, it’s a normal she can’t bring herself to want back.

My High School is Cursed is a YA urban fantasy with plenty of humour, magic and a little romance on the side.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Monica Rosehill
• Release date: Mar 26, 2023
• ISBN: 9780473666842

Monica Rosehill

I am a webcomic artist and author in my early twenties living in New Zealand. By day I am a mechanical engineer working towards a PhD. By night I'm usually sleeping. But also during the day I am working on several YA books and season two of my webcomic.

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Monica Rosehill

My High School is Cursed

First published by Monica Rosehill 2022

Copyright © 2022 by Monica Rosehill

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

First edition

ISBN: 978-0-473-66684-2

This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy

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Contents

Prologue

I. PART ONE - REBIRTH

1. My School is Cursed

2. The New Boy

3. Maybe I’m a Witch

4. Because She’s the Oracle

5. My School is Enchanted!

6. Procrastination Day One

7. Procrastination Day Two

8. Procrastination Day Three

9. Here Comes Trouble

10. Historical Re-Enactment

11. There’s the Dragon

12. Previously On…

II. PART TWO - EXISTENCE

13. Killing is Frowned Upon

14. My School is Enchanted Again?

15. Ditch or Die?

16. This Could Be an Issue

17. I Can Fix It

18. We’re off to See the Warlock

19. Not of True Love

20. Curses! Curses! Curses!

Epilogue

About the Author

Also by Monica Rosehill

Prologue

Once upon a time there was a young man. Now there was nothing particularly special about this young man. He knew his way around a sword, but that was not uncommon in his time. He was not exceptionally handsome nor intelligent. However, he had two things to set him apart. A magical sword and a craving for adventure. A troublesome craving for adventure that drove him from his home in search of excitement.

He passed many a village on his journey to adventure, but one village interrupted his journey like no other. For it was in this village that the young man met a young woman in a long hooded cloak. Intrigued by her refusal to show her face, the young man spent many days and many nights speaking with her. Before he knew it he’d fallen deeply in love. Yet the young man still wondered what face lay beneath the hood of her cloak. As the young woman had also fallen in love with the young man, she removed her hood and allowed him to see her. The young man was struck stupid by her beauty. He asked why she would hide such a face. She told him she was waiting for a person such as him, who would love her without it.

From there, the love between them only grew deeper until the day their love was interrupted. For just before the young man and the young woman were to be married, the young woman was carried off by a dragon. This was not uncommon for the time either. The young man immediately set out after the dragon to rescue her.

Several days into his journey, the young man heard a voice singing in the forest. He followed the voice and stumbled upon a cave with a blocked entrance. Using his magic sword, the young man cut open the cave and found a witch trapped within. The witch told him a dragon had trapped her in the cave and the young man told her of his problem with the dragon in return. She was so grateful to him for setting her free that she offered to help him find his beloved.

At the witch’s recommendation, they visited the oracle to learn the young woman’s location. The oracle told them that the dragon belonged to an evil warlock who lived in the castle beyond the forest. He used the dragon to terrorise the surrounding villages. The warlock felt threatened by the witch’s magic and the true love that the young couple shared. He hoped to destroy them. The oracle told them their quest was more important than they could imagine. Magic itself was dependent on the outcome. Confused by the oracle’s words, the young man and the witch began the trek to the warlock’s castle.

Time passed and they reached the castle. The young man and the witch found the warlock and his dragon waiting at the top of the tallest tower. But by the time they arrived, the young woman was already dead. The warlock had killed her. Angered, the young man attacked, only to be driven back by the warlock’s dragon. Armed with her magic, the witch faced the warlock. Two battles raged, but both were short, for one ended as the other did. When the young man fell to the dragon’s might, the witch was distracted by her grief, and the warlock delivered a mortal wound.

With little time and hope left, the witch cast her last spell before throwing herself from the tower. Not everything can have a happy ending but this ending was only the beginning. A spell had been cast and its effects would be far reaching. A happy ending may yet come.

I

PART ONE - REBIRTH

1

My School is Cursed

The smell hit me first. It wasn’t an incredibly strong smell. Nor was it a bad smell. But it felt like breathing in a summer breeze. It was fresh and relaxing, warm and comforting, yet cool and otherworldly. I didn’t know why I was standing in a meadow, but I couldn’t bring myself to wonder about it.

Then I heard humming, which brought me to finally notice a little girl. She looked like a fairy. Her black hair was blowing about wildly in the wind, while her clothes were simple and natural. She wasn’t even wearing shoes. But when I saw her bright green eyes it finally registered that I was looking at myself. Not me as I am now, but a younger version. A child.

She didn’t seem to know I was there. She was too busy watching something. Eyes wide and mouth open in a smile, she looked fascinated by what she saw. I followed her gaze and found the plants around us growing like crazy. Then all the plants stood still. She started humming again, and the plants continued their growth. It took a moment for my brain to register the truth of the matter. She was making the plants grow with her humming. I tilted my head at my younger self, trying to understand what I was witnessing. A bubbly giggle escaped her as a poppy bloomed at her feet. She reached down and plucked it from the ground.

———

I scrambled up in bed and silenced my alarm. Hell, I hated that noise. I collapsed back and tried to convince myself to leave my sheets. My mind ambled back to my dream. It was definitely one of my stranger ones. I remembered it with a clarity I didn’t usually possess for dreams. Humming at flowers to make them grow was some cartoon princess level shenanigans. Bizarre.

I sighed. Monday morning, time to move. I got up and sluggishly went about my routine. It wasn’t until I’d started to fumble with my shoes that I realised I was running a little late. Fantastic. No breakfast for me then. I bolted downstairs and grabbed my lunch from the kitchen table. My dad had already gone to work but my mum hadn’t left to drop my sister off yet.

Hey, can you give me a lift? I asked. Please.

My mum rolled her eyes. Come on then, she sighed. But, Alexandra, if you don’t leave yourself enough time in the mornings to walk to school you should get up earlier. It’s so close by and the walk would—

Be good for me, I finished, I know, I know. I’m working on it. At least I still walk the rest of the way. Mum always dropped us off at my sister’s school, which only took me halfway to mine.

I was about to take the front seat when my little sister, Olive, grabbed my hand. Come sit in the back with me!

Who could say no to those big grey eyes?

If I must. I made a big show of acting put out as I climbed into the back with my giggling sister.

You love me really, she said with a lopsided grin.

Then, as mum started the car, Liv got rather serious. She did that sometimes. It’s starting today, she told me. It always creeped me out when she got like this.

What do you mean? I asked.

The ending’s in your hands now. Her eyes bored into me.

I froze. That’s exactly what grandma used to tell me. Before she died six years ago on the very day that Liv was born. For a second I could have sworn I was looking into grandma’s eyes and not my little sister’s. No one else in my family had those grey eyes. Just the two of them. And now my sister was quoting the grandma she’d never met.

The moment ended as the car came to a stop. Alright, out you two, mum said.

We were here already? How long had I been staring into my sister’s eyes? The two of us got out of the car and when I looked back at Liv it was like nothing had ever happened.

Bye, she smiled and literally skipped towards her school. Mum drove away and I was left standing on the sidewalk, shaken. I looked back and forth between the car driving away and my sister’s skipping form.

Well, my sister had certainly said weirder things to me.

I shook my head and started pulling my headphones from my backpack.

A coincidence. It must have been a coincidence.

I immersed myself in my music as I speed walked the rest of the way to school, humming along as I went. I loved music and singing. If I could get away with it I’d sing all the time. But my parents understandably got sick of my voice when I was in my room singing at the top of my lungs for hours on end.

As I was selecting a song to queue, I felt a funny feeling in my gut. Some strange mix between joy and nausea. Like a bath bomb full of glitter or a sugar high from a chocolate binge. I heard a rustling and looked around.

The flowers on my right were moving. No, they were growing. A tree to my left was sprouting flowers. Daisies were appearing between the pavement at my feet. A lawn had doubled in length since I’d started approaching it.

I immediately stopped humming. Everything was still. My heart was racing. I was hallucinating. The only possible explanation. That dream I had last night was putting weird hallucinations in my head. I started walking faster. As fast as I could. I had to get away from this weirdness. It was probably stress. School was stressing me out. That must have been it.

Of course, that was a very completely absolutely valid reason. High school was hell. Yes, a lot of people said that, but my high school was actually supernaturally bad. Like every American high school movie on steroids. Everyone hated me. Literally everyone. I wasn’t sure what I’d done to piss off every single student and staff member at Tailfare High School, but it must have been pretty flipping spectacular. Too bad I’d somehow missed it.

How did the freshman even know to hate me when the new year rolled around? Was there an introductory pamphlet to explain the conspiracy. Were the school grounds themselves evil? Once in freshman year, when I’d still found my treatment shocking, I’d cried to my parents about it. They’d set up a meeting with the principal and met in his office to address the bullying.

It was like as soon as they got there they forgot why they’d come. When the principal told them I was a problematic student, who was probably making up stories, they nodded along and said they’d give me a stern talking to. I’d just sat there in silent disbelief. Then as soon as we’d left they were only confused. They didn’t give me a talking to like they said they would. In fact we’d never spoken about it again. I still wasn’t sure what happened.

I took a breath and steeled myself as I got to school. Only one year and seven months to go. Then I was free.

I had barely taken two steps into the school hallway when someone shoved me. Good to see you too, Jessica, I called over my shoulder. I was passed upset with my situation at this point. After so long the bullying was less heart crushing and more along the lines of wildly inconvenient. Downright absurd even.

A guy walking by slapped the books out of my hand as I took them from my locker. It was basically a knee jerk response for people. Catch you in English, Ruben. I went to pick the books up but was interrupted by another shove. Now shoving I was used to, but the squeezing in my gut and sudden flash of the shover eating breakfast was rather strange. So strange I didn’t even throw him a sarcastically friendly greeting as he walked away. It had felt like my dream last night, although I couldn’t put my finger on why they seemed similar.

I put my books in my backpack before someone could make another move against me. As I got up, another person was pushed into me. I felt that same squeezing in my gut before my surroundings shifted.

———

I closed my eyes as a rush of heat hit my face. The clanging of metal chimed periodically as I reopened my eyes to look upon the small room I was occupying. It was a forge. There were three figures in the vicinity. One was a broad-shouldered man banging away at a horse shoe. The remaining two were conversing over a sword.

This is fine work as expected, said a slender man as he held it aloft, Your father is the best there is, I tell you.

That he is, this one was…Jasmine Pryce. Exactly Jasmine from my maths class. The same long golden hair. The same tall and willowy figure. The same doll-like blue eyes. Not a freckle was out of place. Only she was dressed in a simple dirtied frock and a brown leather apron.

You have grown into a beautiful girl since last I saw you, the man commented. You must be very desired. Ew, creepy.

I wish to be desired for more than my beauty, mediaeval Jasmine told him.

The man pretty much laughed in her face at that. Good luck to you then.

———

What the hell was that? I blinked as I adjusted to being back in my school hallway. Another hallucination?

The vision slipped from my mind as I saw who’d fallen on me. Jasmine Pryce. My blood practically boiled at the sight of her.

Watch where you’re falling, I snapped.

How about you watch where you put your oversized feet, she sneered at me.

Klutzy priss.

Rude cow.

We both hurried away from each other. I could not stand that girl. She was so… She… The anger faded as she was no longer in front of me. I didn’t even know why I hated Jasmine sometimes. The sight of her just pissed me off. It filled me with more anger than I had ever otherwise experienced. You’d think we’d be friends considering everyone hated her too. Aren’t outcasts supposed to stick together? But whenever I saw her, all I wanted to do was punch her in her pretty face.

It surprised me that she had no friends. She was the most breathtakingly beautiful girl in the entire school. Or maybe that was why she didn’t have any friends. Jealousy would do that.

I made my way into English class as the bell was ringing. Darn. Late, Mr Smith growled as I headed for my seat. Late, late, late, late. He said peevishly to every person who walked through the door after me. Mr Smith was my favourite teacher.

Miss Stanton, stand up, he grumbled. That would be me. I did as he said and got to my feet.

Yes, Sir, I grinned.

Extra homework for being late, he said. I could have argued that since I got here as the bell rung I wasn’t technically late, but there was little point. Do pages 50 and 51 of your workbook and let’s add page 52 because you look too happy today.

Noted, Sir. I sat back down and tried to wipe the smile off my face. Mr Smith proceeded to call out the other students for being late, giving them extra homework as well.

That’s why he was my favourite teacher. He may have been unfairly hostile towards me, but he was also unfairly hostile towards everyone else. He was the only teacher as nice to me as he was to any other student. I had to celebrate the small wins.

After English class I had maths. Jasmine would be there. I’m not sure how I felt about—Oh no.

I spotted Adam Peeler down the hallway. He was easy to spot, dressed in all black, and standing so stiffly he could moonlight as a brick wall. Usually I could deal with the stuff students and teachers threw my way, but there was something next level about the maliciousness when it came to Adam Peeler. The guy scared me in ways I couldn’t even describe. He never talked. Ever. I wasn’t sure he could. But something about the way he looked at me with those completely empty eyes made my skin crawl.

I knew that where Adam was, Nicolas Thorpe was bound to be nearby. Sure enough, I found him leant against the wall, observing with a smirk on his face as he often did. Between the pallor of his skin and his gold-tinged eyes, he too stood out. But while Adam stood out like a black hole, Nicolas stood out like an LED lamp to the face.

My attention came back to Adam as I saw he was almost upon me. I clutched the straps of my backpack and got ready for whatever was coming.

I didn’t even get a word out before I was pushed into the janitor’s closet.

No. Not this. Anything but this. I jerked towards the door but it was slammed in my face.

I was locked in.

Oh hell.

Oh hell, oh hell, oh hell, oh hell.

Calm down, Alex. Don’t freak out. Breathe. I rubbed my sweaty palms on my jeans and threw my bag off, rifling through it as my heart started racing. I knelt down. Come on, come on. Why did I make my bag so messy?!

Yes!

I pulled out my headphones, turned them on, and played a song as fast as my shaking hands would allow. Then I closed my eyes and tried to get my breathing on track. In, two, three. Out, two, three. In, two, three. Out, two, three. I let the music wash over me and hummed quietly to myself.

The janitor would come eventually. He’d yell at me for being in here but at least he’d let me out. I felt my panic start to dim. Music always helped with that. The first time Adam had locked me in the closet I’d been completely unprepared. I’d had a full-blown panic attack and almost sprained my wrist banging on the door.

Nicolas looked like he had won the lottery when he’d worked out my phobia. Well, not exactly worked out. He probably thought I had claustrophobia; a fear of small spaces. But that wasn’t quite right. Small spaces I could deal with, no problem. My therapist called what I had Cleithrophobia; a fear of being trapped or locked in an enclosed space. Although she was stumped as to why I’d developed this specific phobia.

I’d had Cleithrophobia for as long as I could remember. I’d gone without a door to my bedroom for years because whenever it was closed I’d used to cry and cry. My parents set up a curtain in my doorway instead. Of course, I could handle stuff like closed doors better now. But locked doors…Not so much. One of Adam’s favourite ways to torture me was to lock me in the janitor’s closet. It took five instances before I stopped hurting myself trying to force my way out.

If it wasn’t for music, I didn’t think I would manage. Even now, with my music as loud as it got and my eyes tightly shut, I could feel my anxiety crawling up my throat. Please, janitor, please hurry up. Please open the door. I really needed the door open. I really needed the door unlocked. Please. Please. Please. Door, please. Open, please.

I heard