Witch Born

By P. L. KURUP

A GIRL WITH SUPERNATURAL POWERS
A BOY WHO FALLS IN LOVE WITH HER
A TOWN DETERMINED TO TEAR THEM APART

Freya Cook has always been told she is a witch. One day, she unwittingly casts a spell on her classmates that prove she has abilities. From then on both she and her father are shunned by every one they meet. 

17-year-old Luke Jones is both handsome and rebellious. He finds the quiet village he moved to both dull and confining. 
He is utterly miserable until he discovers 17-year-old Freya Cook lives next door. In time, they become friends. 
The villagers plan something sinister to destroy her. Will Freya survive the awful scenario they have in store for her?

• Language: English
• Publisher: L Books
• Release date: Jan 19, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386843252

Book preview

Witch

Born

––––––––

P. L. KURUP

CHAPTER 1

A hundred miles from London lay a small hamlet by the name of Raven’s Hook. It was the home of Susan and Joseph Cook. Rather than live in the village itself, they resided on the outskirts of town. Their cottage was isolated, and the woodland which surrounded it made Joseph feel at one with nature. It also helped him focus on his writing. A quarter mile down the lane stood a twenty room mansion known as Brook House. The nineteenth century property was owned by a widow named Agnes Stone.

Susan and Joseph had been married for ten years, and didn’t have any children, something that made her desperately unhappy.

But a year later, Dr Phillips told her, You’re pregnant, Mrs. Cook. 

That’s impossible. We had all the tests. They told us it was a one in a million chance, Susan contradicted. 

Well, it appears you were just given that chance, Dr Phillips revealed.

Susan closed her eyes, and tears of joy rolled down her cheeks. Joseph hugged his wife, and was equally thrilled. 

The journey home only took thirty minutes. During that time, Susan’s joy lessened as she felt dizzy. She also had a severe headache, but managed to hide it from Joseph. The instant they reached home she rushed upstairs and locked herself in the bathroom.

Is something wrong? Joseph yelled from downstairs.

No, everything’s fine, Susan replied, even though it wasn’t.

Susan looked at herself in the mirror, and saw she looked pale and ill, when just that morning the opposite was true. Some of her auburn hair draped over her eyes, but she didn’t bother moving it, and kept staring into the mirror. She also noticed her hands shook vigorously.

That night, Susan’s headache grew worse until it seemed like her head would split in two. She got up and switched on her computer. An internet search for headaches during pregnancy revealed nothing to explain how awful she felt. On a whim, she entered the word ‘evil’ in the search term. What followed was an article on how mothers who were destined to give birth to witches suffered headaches and dizziness in the first days of pregnancy. Susan turned off the computer and folded her arms.

Witches? Honestly?

The floorboard creaked outside her room, and she glanced to the door. Joseph was still asleep so she walked in stealth to the door. Whatever was outside, it breathed heavily, and even cleared its throat, making her jerk back. She plucked up her courage, and opened the door, but the corridor was clear. She stepped back into the room, and shut the door, and gasped for breath

The following morning, she went to see Dr Philips.

After a thorough examination he told her, You’re fine. No problems.

Really? I mean are you sure?

Yes, but are you eating properly? Dr Phillips enquired. 

I’m eating well. Is the baby normal? she asked urgently.

Yes, it’s normal. So far so good. You can go home and sleep well, Mrs Cook.

That’s wonderful, Susan replied. 

That evening, Joseph prepared a pleasant meal for her which Susan wolfed down, and she went to bed feeling content.

At night a noise woke her from a deep sleep. Once again she opened the bedroom door, and looked out. This time she saw a little girl standing with her back to her. It wasn’t a child she had seen before as the girl had long black hair.

What are you doing here? Susan asked, walking toward her.

The girl walked downstairs and entered the kitchen, and Susan followed. On opening the kitchen door, Susan discovered the entire place was on fire and the little girl was standing in the centre of the blaze.

Susan woke from her dream and looked round the room. Everything was as it should be, and Joseph lay beside her asleep. She shuffled into the bathroom and stared at her reflection in the oval-shaped mirror. Her face was paler than usual, her lips dry enough for skin to peel away.

It’s killing me, she whispered.

Joseph realised that his wife’s gaunt figure and strange behaviour was a sign something was wrong. She gulped down the tea he made for her the next morning, and slammed the cup on the kitchen table.

Are you feeling better? he asked. 

Susan turned to him, glaring. Do I look better to you? There’s something abnormal about this child, Joseph. It’s unwholesome.

Unwholesome? Sweetheart, it’s all in your mind. We never thought we could have children so it’s bound to be stressful. I guarantee as soon as the child is born, you’ll feel a whole lot better. 

Susan shook her head at him, sometimes he just didn’t understand, which was why she was so glad for her friendship with Agnes Stone. The old woman was the only normal person around.

On one of Susan’s weekly visits to Brook House, the old woman led her into the kitchen, and gestured her to sit at the table. Susan did so, and grimaced as the child started to kick. The more time she spent with Agnes, the more upset it seemed.

Okay, we’ll go in a minute, Susan said.

I’m sorry? Agnes asked.

Nothing. He’s just a bit restless today, Susan replied.

It will get better as the months go by. The first few months are always the most difficult, Agnes told Susan.

Yes, Susan answered, clutching her belly.

Agnes’s grey eyes grew intense, and she fixed on Susan. It wasn’t the kind of look she expected from a sweet old woman, and Susan touched her chest.

She will give you a hard time when she’s born, Agnes conveyed. She will ruin you, make you ill, and destroy your life.

Susan laughed a little at the outrageous statement.

What do mean destroy my life? Susan asked.

I mean, she will tear it apart.

Thanks, but I didn’t really ask for your opinion, Susan replied. 

I only want to help you, dear.

I know you do, but I’m very tired so I think it’s best if I leave. She got up from her chair, when Agnes grabbed her arm.

You must be very careful. She is not a normal child. She is evil itself, Agnes uttered.

Susan thrust the old woman aside, and marched out the back door. She made the quarter mile journey home, and swore never to see her again.

CHAPTER 2

As promised, Susan never met Agnes again, and three months later, she gave birth to Freya Louisa Cook, a healthy baby girl, weighing in at six pounds, three ounces. Susan sat up in bed and held her baby in her arms, looking every bit the doting mother.

The day of Freya’s homecoming Susan forgot all about the trauma she experienced in those first months. She also chose to ignore if not forget Agnes Stone’s words about Freya not being normal.

As the months passed, Susan and Joseph took their little daughter to the village, and showed her off to the locals. The usual response was very positive and Freya ended up on at least fifteen mobile phone photos by the end of the day. There were one or two who didn’t like the girl, and Mrs Bailey, the local schoolteacher often looked at the child with scorn.

It’s because Freya’s so pretty and all her kids are so unattractive, Susan told Joseph.

I think you’re right. Freya’s the prettiest baby there ever was, Joseph agreed.   

On a cold autumn morning, Susan made her way to the local café, and was about to open the door when Mrs Bailey popped out of nowhere, cut in front of her, and failed to hold the door open when she walked in. This resulted in the door swinging back, and smacking Freya’s pram head on. The child wailed after being woken, and Susan stormed up to Mrs Bailey and demanded, What have you got against my daughter? Huh? Tell me.

I’m a schoolteacher, Susan. I don’t hate children, Mrs Bailey replied.

Susan gave Mrs Bailey a stern look, and marched out of the shop while trying to hold back tears. Freya continued to cry, and didn’t stop until Joseph came home three hours later.

Something the matter? he asked as soon as he walked in.

She’s been crying all day, Susan replied.

She’s probably just teething. It’ll get better in a few weeks.

Susan said nothing. The man clearly didn’t understand how distraught she was.

The years flew by and before they knew it, Freya was six years old and ready to start school. The beautiful child had raven hair, piercing green eyes, and ruby lips. She jumped out of bed on her first day of school, got changed into a pretty floral dress, tied a blue ribbon in her hair, eagerly packed her schoolbag with her pencil case and notebook, and rushed downstairs. The moment she reached the kitchen, her face sank. Her parents were arguing again. 

I don’t want her to go there, Susan cried out. 

It’s one of the best schools in the country. I don’t understand why you’re being so selfish, Joseph replied while tying his shoelaces.

Selfish? That woman, Mrs Bailey will be her teacher and you know how bad she is?

Freya is going to that school. And I don’t want to hear anything more about it, Joseph declared, taking hold of his daughter’s hand. 

Susan stared out the window, making no attempt to join her family. The car horn beeped twice and she scoffed, and marched out of the house.

During the journey to school Susan kept looking at Freya in the rear view mirror. She prayed for a flat tyre or a minor accident, anything to stifle their progress. But it wasn’t to be and they arrived at Raven’s Hook School in good time. Freya jumped out of the car as soon as it stopped, and ran into the building.

Freya, wait for us, Joseph shouted as both he and Susan ran after her.

Freya didn’t listen, and continued to weave through narrow corridors, winding staircases, and finally walked into Mrs Bailey’s classroom. Mrs Bailey sat at her desk, gaping at the little girl. When Susan and Joseph walked in, Mrs Bailey’s eyes lit up.

Don’t worry, Mr Cook. Your daughter will feel right at home here, she assured Joseph.

I know you’ll take good care of her, Joseph replied trustingly.

Susan gave Mrs Bailey a sharp look before she and Joseph left the room.

Later that morning, Mrs Bailey started her class. The thirty something teacher had prematurely greying hair, and wore a checked suit that was one size too small. She walked to Freya’s table and looked down on her.

I would like you to put all the toys back in their right boxes, she ordered. When one of the other children got up to help, Mrs Bailey informed him, I only want Freya Cook to do it.

Freya walked to the mess of toys on the floor, and put them back in their right boxes. She also arranged all the boxes in a neat row.

Now I’d like you to stand in the corner for wearing the wrong colour shoes, Mrs Bailey told her.

Freya looked at her shoes, and observed they were the same colour as everyone else’s. Rather than cause a fuss, the girl did as she was asked. When the school bell sounded the other children left the class almost at once, but Freya sat at her desk, staring at her teacher.

What is it? What do you want? Mrs Bailey demanded.

The girl didn’t answer, but the fountain pen on Mrs Bailey’s desk rolled toward her, flipped up, and balanced on its nib. Mrs Bailey gasped and lurched back.

Witch! cried Mrs Bailey. Leave this room at once.

Freya got up from her seat and walked out.

Susan picked her up from school and asked, So did you make any friends?

No.

Was your teacher nice to you?

Freya turned to Susan and answered, She was really nice to me, Mum. So no need to worry.