Red-Eyed Witch

I. DARKNESS HIDDEN BEHIND THE LIGHT

Illya made sure the students gossiping about her behind her back witnessed how she rolled her eyes — not in annoyance but to tell them that what they are talking about is nothing short of absurd. She wanted to ridicule them, to put them to shame for even thinking of such foolish things in the first place as if they were kids back in elementary school, crying over stolen pencils and naively believing obviously fake tales meant to scare their six-year-old selves off.

One would think that superstitions are incomparable to logic in today’s era of modern technology and science. Alas, human minds prefer the mystery and thrill the supernatural could offer, preferring to scare themselves, and thus, Illya is the one who suffers the most thanks to their wild imagination. Life is just simple but human beings tend to make everything difficult for them — even when a simple solution is presented, and even scientific facts to have their rationality up and running. As a result of choosing to be foolish, they leave signs of destruction in their wake.

Now Illya has no qualms about people and their beliefs. In fact, she has her own superstitious beliefs as well. And not once did she shove her beliefs onto others nor shame them for believing what they believe. But to take it so far as to harm another being, as if they were still in the days of yore.

The red-eyed witch, they would claim in fervor whenever the white-haired girl was in sight, albeit some do it to get a good laugh. Why they choose her as their means to escape boredom, Illya will never know. She was seen as a witch cruel towards anyone who dares to anger her, casting curses with voodoo dolls and talking to the devil ─ all of those stereotypes built by fairy tales one would watch during their youth.

Illya wished they stopped spouting stupid nonsense and instead, start acting like their age for only she would suffer in the end. There was plenty to think about for graduating students like them: exams were coming up, the defense for their research papers was getting closer too. All of these will determine their fate as a candidate for graduation — well, Illya is exaggerating but that is how every student feels, as if they were hanging by a thread. But instead, here they were, talking crap about her.

But her unusually white hair and blood-red eyes make her stand out like a sore thumb among a sea full of black, browns, and blondes. No amount of hair dye or colored contact lenses could hide her peculiar features, features that made her an outcast.

Fortunately — or unfortunately, depending on how one would look at the situation, Illya does not suffer from physical violence as much as she does with their verbal abuse. Still, the girl admits they are mentally draining, with each word haunting her every now and then. Occasional pranks that are not borderline cruel but rather embarrassing happen with her as the sole target — but that may be viewed as cruel as well, one can never tell when to draw the line with cruel jokes and pranks since people have different sensitivity levels. For Illya, however, these pranks are enough for her to dread waking up and going to school every day.

But if she were to choose, Illya is fine — or she forced herself to feel fine — with such things so long as they do not get too violent and outright go for the kill. Bullying can lead to violence, and ultimately, the spillage of blood which then would lead to death, like on most psychological dramas she has watched with a protagonist that is close to her age.

Or so she thinks, ignorant of how a void so dark and full of evil resides in everyone, for even the sun that casts its light down on the earth so brightly has its very own darkness.

“Illya!”

Upon someone calling her name, the said girl turned and her dampened mood immediately lifted. Long, dark locks bounced as Dauphine Frontier, a girl who has stuck by Illya’s side despite all hearsay, ran like a professional track star while still maintaining the air of gracefulness around her. Illya grimaced as all she would ever be is a moose desperate for air after a few minutes of running.

“What is up with that troubled look plastered on your face? Did they bother you again? Who are they? Just so I can give them a good scolding!”

By they, Dauphine meant everyone. Most, if not all, avoid Illya like a plague and it really is a shame that someone like Dauphine, athletic, gorgeous, and popular, hangs out with a cursed witch — or so they say. The white-haired girl felt bad but she appreciated the few friends she had in her circle.

“Do pay heed to them! They are a bunch of fools who act even worse than little kids, so cheer up! They are just jealous that you look good with white hair and red eyes!” she cheered, her words coated with forced enthusiasm, but Illya failed to notice that like she usually does. Although she may not look like it, after all of the venoms she soaked up and all the rejection she was forced to swallow, Illya is eager for acceptance.

“Let’s go meet Zephyr now! I am pretty sure he will sulk if he finds us missing on one of his games.”

Another of Illya’s few friends was Zephyr Soleil, the school’s most valuable player in the field of volleyball. Not only is he athletic but he is also considered by every girl in the school as drop-dead gorgeous, with his hair dyed in dark blue ─ resembling a Korean pop star, and eyes the color of the blue summer sky. It was not an exaggeration to say that Zephyr is sought after by every girl in West High Academy. It just so happens that among all the misfortune, Zephyr became one of the only three blessings gifted upon her by the Almighty from above; with the other two being her parents and Dauphine of course.

Upon arriving at the gym where every volleyball match happens no matter how trivial, Zephyr’s eyes immediately spotted the two girls sitting on one of the elevated benches, it surrounded the massive gym that could no doubt fit two volleyball courts. The gym was mostly filled with fangirls so seeing the two calmed Zephyr's nerves, he would rather it was only them. Nonetheless, the boy waved, his eyes tender from affection glued solely on Illya. With her keen eyes, Dauphine did not miss the obvious display of affection the said boy threw towards her infamous friend’s way.

The ravinette nudged her white-haired friend on the sides, sending her a teasing smile and a wink. “It seems like Zephyr favors you more! Could this be one of those signs which tells you if the one you hold affections for reciprocates your feelings?" she teased in a sing-song voice, a tight smile gracing her cherry pink lips.

A deep shade of pink blossomed on Illya’s pale cheeks — reminding Dauphine of cherry blossoms from how visible it was thanks to the girl's pale complexion — as she weakly protested to her dark-haired friend’s teasing. It was no secret among the two that Illya holds affection for Zephyr, what with their friendship going way back. It would be too preposterous of her to even think that the volleyball star felt the same way after all the rumors that were spreading daily, not to mention the hate she was getting for a silly notion. But Illya knows Zephyr is not like the others, and that is probably why she clings on to hope and assumes her feelings are reciprocated.

Unfortunately, exam week is closing in and so the two could not stay to watch the boys’ practice match against the neighboring school any longer than usual.

"He will forgive us for leaving in the middle of the match," Dauphine reassured her white-haired friend with a smile. "It is not one of his important games anyway, and the final exams are coming up. Even our most valuable player knows just how important those tests are! So do not worry your pretty little head about it, let's just send him a text in our group chat."

"You make it sound like I'm worried," Illya pouted. "Contrary to what you think, I am not all over Zephyr. I consider him below my studies in my priority list!" At her declaration, Dauphine giggled in amusement before giving her a teasing look that said 'Sure, whatever you say'. Illya rolled her eyes at her friend before dragging her out of the court. The hot, afternoon air hit their faces and the two immediately voiced their complaints.

"Isn't it too hot lately?" Illya asked.

“Hey, I just had an awesome idea!" Daphne exclaimed as if a lightbulb went off in her head, her eyes sparkling with mirth. "Let's share notes on that cute cat café located near my place! We can tutor each other with subjects we are good at too! I am having trouble with history lately, it has been so boring that I could not just get to absorb it! Who cares about some events in the past anyway?”

"I can't see why not. But hopefully, we do get some studying done this time." Illya chuckled at her friend’s antics. Usually, no studying is done when they find themselves seated inside cafes, and it is only because Dauphine is too busy gossiping about the latest rumors going on around, all the while sipping her bittersweet coffee. Still, with her issues, Illya never rejected the idea. She appreciated the company Daphne brought and it gave Illya a sense of belongingness. And so the two friends marched towards the direction of the said cat café.

“Over there! Isn’t it adorable?! The colors are so pleasant to the eyes, and I swear they serve the best drinks and the tastiest desserts!" Dauphine exclaimed, her voice a tad bit higher in pitch than normal. The girl practically buzzed with excitement and because of it, she hastily crossed the other side of the wide road where the said cozy café sat. Dauphine, whose right hand was linked to Illya’s left the whole way, dragged her friend across.

The next chain of events became a blur, too fast for both ladies to comprehend.

A honking car zoomed in the distance, its speedy state almost a blur to Illya's vision. Stepping on the break would prove futile at the velocity it is going. Left with nothing but instincts, Illya pulled the ravinette back, leaving no room for herself to move out of the way.

With an ear-deafening and painful crash, Illya flew a short distance away from the now bloodied and ruined car. Glass shards that broke from the impact planted huge gashes on her skin, giving way for the metallic substance to ooze out, coating Illya's snow-white hair in the color red.

Illya always thought getting hit would make her feel immense pain, but her ears only rang and her body felt numb. She could hear distant screaming, no doubt it came from Dauphine who was probably already calling for help. But even the white-haired girl knows she is now nothing but a hopeless case, swimming in her own pool of blood.

Red, the color is familiar in a sense that she had seen it plenty of times in reoccurring dreams — or were they nightmares instead? For it planted a seed of fear in her heart, but more than fear, it planted in her resentment and bitterness.

Before her vision could fully fade to black and her memory be reaped by death, Illya was certain she felt an unmistakable force of a hand pushing her towards her death. But who is it? She thought in her last moments.

Who is the real witch?