Bree was having a good day, before she was pushed into a body of water.

She came up to three girls sniggering, knudging each other in a self-congragulatory way. "It's where you belong," the leader explained, whiplashing her hair to startling effect. "You were getting on my nerves."

"Was I?" Bree spluttered. "I must have done something wrong."

None of them caught the sarcastic edge to her voice.

"Oh you did," the leader nodded. "The weres are going to mate soon, and it's obvious Nathan is paying you more attention than any of us. What did you do? Rub lamb chops up your crotch?"

Bree splashed the surface indignantly, still treading the water. She had to go home and change now, and if she went, it would take a forklift and a car to drag her back here again. These girls were upping their ante, everyday. She knew "The Were's" had a little fan club going, but didn't antipate how terrortorial they were, until she was in their sights.

So maybe she liked Nathan a little.

He was the nicest one out of the group! All his friends paraded around the school like they owned it, but Nathan was humble and sweet, and asked if he could borrow her math homework from time to time. Yes, there was that time she fed him lamb chops.

But that didn't mean anything!

"You're just jealous," Bree yelled out. Which immediately made the girls start sharpening their claws.

"Of you? Pah- lease! You don't even know how to apply deodrant properly."

Bree flushed, and felt tears spring to her eyes. She definitely had to go home now. There was no way, she was sitting through Double Maths wondering if she really smelt. Nathan was in that class, along with the three witches. All of them would be watching her closely, and she didn't want the scrutiny right now.

"Fuck you!" she pulled herself out of the water, and ran towards the school gates.

She really was crying now. Her eyes were so blurred, the blaring horn and speeding car, didn't hit her until she paused in the middle of the road and looked south. Behind her. Back at the witches. They were jumping up and yelling- throwing their hands out and looking panicked.

"Get back!"

Why were they yelling get back?

BOOM!

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Georgina Simmons gritted her teeth, as the last person stepped up to pay their respects. The leader of the witches- AKA Helena - stared down at Bree's body and let a tear trickle down her cheek. "Cut it out!" she wanted to snap, but held it back because three hundred people were watching.

"You were taken too young," she mumbled. "I'm so so sorry."

Georgie clenched her fists, under the sleeves of her long black chemise. She had been ill that day- so was resting in her bed to shake off her headcold. Georgie and Bree were a two-man deal. They always went to school together, and if one was sick, the other would find an excuse not to go.

Until that fateful day.

Bree had come to visit her in the morning. "I don't want to go," she said pale-faced. "But my mom's forcing me. I keep telling her I'll die without you, Georgie, but she told me to stop being so over-dramatic."

"You'll be safe," Georgie clutched her hands. "Just keep your head down."

"Terrible advise," Bree smirked. "What if I get involved in a car accident?"

"Then don't tempt fate," Georgie gave into the overwhelming urge for a hug. "Keep your head down unless you're crossing your road, and stick close to the teachers. Don't go looking for Nathan, okay? He's trouble."

"Is not," Bree argued, before a blissful look crossed her face. "He makes me feel safe."

Georgie snapped back to the present, when she caught Nathan sitting in the front row, black suit and red eyes. He was sitting in the middle of his callous mates, who were elbowing each other and grinning. They all looked similar. Big, hulking boys trapped in pants that were threatening to rip off their muscles.

Nathan had refused to say his final goodbyes.

Helena stopped repeating her sorrows, and limply shook Georgie's hand before shoving flowers into them. "Who are you?" she peered up. "You look like someone I might know."

"I'm Bree's best friend," Georgie said with a clenched jaw. "We both shared a Double Math class with you."

"Oh that's right!" Helena snapped her fingers. "You're the class lesbian."

Georgie pulled back a fist, and punched the bitch square in the nose.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Georgie came back to her senses, and realised Helena was still staring up at her. Forcing a constipated grin, she waved the flowers in her hand and muttered a "thank you." As much as she wanted to knock Helena out, Bree's mom would be displeased and ban her from contacting their family every again.

"Call yourself a friend?" she would shriek. "You HUMILIATED us!"

"Well see you in Double Math," Helena waved awkwardly back, and hurried off to join her two stooges.

"See you in your deathbed," Georgie whispered, and schooled her face into a neutral expression, when one of Nathan's louder mates stopped talking, and stared at her. She knew who he was. Yaxley Booth, was the leader of that little gang, and would hesistate the least when stepping over you.

He didn't really pay anyone much attention, outside his friends, except to bark at them.

Nathan started crying.

Oh great.

Georgie stepped up to the altar, and delivered a short memorial speech Bree's mom asked her to prepare.

"My name is Georgina Simmons, and I was Bree's classmate and best friend. She would ask me right now, not to read a depressing speech about her death, but an uplifting piece that highlighted her life. Bree was...magical. She knew her arithmetic tables up till 16, and used them to calculate Boyzone's reunion date. She was crazy like that. She mixed life, with pleasure and was such a devoted, loyal, kind person...

"I'm sorry," Georgie choked. "I can't continue."

Bree's mom gave her a comforting squeeze as she stepped down, and took over at the altar. Georgie threw one last look at Bree's face, and noted the peaceful expression inbetween the curls. She looked beautiful. Like a disney princess, waiting for her prince to awaken her from a chronic slumber.

Georgie turned tail, and fled to the graveyard.

She hated this town. Ever since it elected a were as a mayor, he started enforcing laws that disbenefited humans. Tomorrow was a full moon night. The entire town would be put under curfew, just so a bunch of randy were's could roam the town, and not come across an easy meal.

This included Nathan and his chums.

"Forge, was it?" Georgie turned around and saw Nathan standing behind her, hands in his pockets. He'd obviously followed her out here. "Bree's best friend?"

"It's Georgie," she corrected. "Georgina to you."

"Your speech in there was phenomenal. If I lost Yaxley like that...or Aaron, Samuels, and the others...I wouldn't rest until I hunted down the bastard who did it. You're strong. I don't know if I could be as calm as you, Borgina..."

"It's Georgina!" she snapped.

"Right. See you in class."

She stared at Nathan, as he swivelled on his feet, and picked his way back into the church. He was an utter dickhead, but had some valid points when he stated I wouldn't rest until I hunted down the bastard who did it. Georgie could easily channel her anger to the person sitting behind the wheel- but then that would be letting Helena and Nathan off. Because they were the reason, her friend was now lying dead in that church.

Revenge.

"None of you may know my name or remember my face," Georgie muttered under her breath. "But by the time I'm done with you, you'll be sobbing and begging for your life." A wicked smile lit up her face. "That's a promise."

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Georgie was never early for anything in her life. So when she climbed of her bicycle, and padlocked it within the designated area, she knew she was the first one. The school was empty as she stepped into the boy's bathroom, with a bucket of mud and a pair of wellington boots.

The first thing she did, was scoop up a handful and pat it to her face. She did the same to her arms, and legs until any identifiable traces of odour was covered up by an earthy smell.

The walk to Nathan's locker was a relatively short one.

She easily dispatched his combination, and emptied the rest of the bucket on top his books. Yaxley's locker was next. She ripped the picture of Britney Spears off his inside locker, and scrunched it up at her feet. Next she ran a finger along the line of his neatly stacked folders, and picked one at random.

She was humming, as she unleased it all over the floor.

"Who's there?"

Shit! Someone was coming around the corner, towards the suspicious noise. Georgie abandoned her petty attempt of retribution and ducked into the gymnasium. She ran across the squeaking lineolem, and threw herself into the girl's locker room. Thankfully, she was able to walk out dewy-faced after a shower.

Before bumping nose-first into a broad chest.

Yaxley was sniffing around the girl's locker room, and started nosing Georgie's hair with renewed vigor. He reached out and wrenched her head to the side - just so he could keep following that scent.

"It's not you," he said with disappointment, pushing her back. "You're not the bitch who went through my locker."

"No!" Georgie gasped, throwing a hand to her mouth. "Someone actually dared?"

"You're wet," he glanced down at his fingers, like he just noticed. "Why are you wet? Did you have a shower? Ew, man. I don't want some human plastering her scent all over me. Who taught you that trick?"

"No-one," Georgie was nonplussed. He looked more repulsed about touching her, then finding his locker in a mess. She walked past him, and continued walking, until she was out of earshot and lent back against the wall, heart drumming in her chest.

This could've easily gone tits-up, but Bree's spirit must be helping her along the way.

"Time to step it up a notch," she whispered.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

"Hello Helena."

This was a first.

Bree and Georgie normally snuck out of the cafteria at lunch-time, so they wouldn't have to haggle over tables. Georgie just wanted the fresh air, but Bree mainly did it for the football practises. Now that Bree was gone, Georgie was determined to sit at Helena's table, so she could be a constant reminder about their mistake.

"You." Helena stopped laughing, and began to look miserable. "Give her a seat."

Cleo and Samantha looked at each other, before reaching mutual agreement, and shuffling up to offer Georgie a free place. Georgie didn't look twice. She sat in front of Helena, and started ripping the straw off her container drink. Helena winced, when she slurped nosily.

They were itching to say something.

But were holding back, in fear of reprisal.

"So how you girls?" Georgie stared, wide-eyed. "Good? You should keep talking like I'm not here."

"Riiigght," Helena agreed, but let an uncomfortable silence settle. "But you are here."

"I know that, but pretend otherwise," she grinned quirkily. "That shouldn't be too hard. We've been in the same class for three years and this is the first time you're talking to me in school. Slip back into that old persona."

"Why?"

"Gee- can't you see?" Cleo thought it was the best time to Dr. Phil them . "She's grieving. In order to cope pyschologically, she's asking us to pretend like Bree is still alive."

This wasn't the reason at all. But it was fun to see how a simple request, was making them overthink and freak out. Emotional manupliation. The next best thing, to shoving a cold pie into their faces. Georgie didn't say anything, and let the three witches rattle their brain cells in order to muster up a conversation.

"Bree is such a bitch."

Georgie stopped slurping. She was rather startled.

"Can't she take a hint? Nathan is ours. He's only using her for an easy A."

There was a unanimous murmur around the table, that made Georgie clutch the end of her straw. She was panting heavily. Helena, Cleo and Samantha had their heads bowed towards each other, and gossiping intently. They were clearly acting, but didn't have to stretch far, because they were repeating an earlier conversation.

"Sometimes I wish she'd die. Alongside that lezzie friend of hers."

Georgie let out a splutter. It sounded close to a laugh, but could've swung either way. Helena and her friends came to a natural pause, and looked over, as if they were just remembering she was there. They were quick to banish their indifferent attitudes, and Helena even looked like she wanted a hug.

"I'm so sorry," she put trembling fingers to her lips. "Was that too much?"

YES! Georgie wanted to scream at the top of her lungs.

"We mean none of it," Cleo broke in. "We meant none of it. Sometimes three girls get together and say real stupid things, you know? And you want to go back and slap them silly, but..."

"It's too late," Samantha whispered.

Georgie wanted to stick a fork in her eye. In all of their eyes really. What good was it reminscing about the past, when none of them had the ability to time-travel? Hindsight was a wonderful thing. But maybe they were grovelling because subconcious signals were telling them, that bad things lay in store.

If anything, Georgie's hatred rose triplefold.

Luckily (for them), the lunchbell rang before any vitrol spewed out of her lips.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"Darling," Georgie didn't have to say anything, for her mother to know she was upset. Mrs Simmons held out her arms wide, and allowed her daughter to sink in the middle of them. Her hair smelt citrusy. "I told you not to go into school today. It's too soon."

"I know mum," Georgie's face was tearstreaked. "I thought I could handle it."

"Nobody has to handle anything," Mrs Simmons soothed. "Especially after the traumatic week you had. It takes a special kind of person to attend a funeral of a close friend, then go into school the next Monday. You don't have to prove anything."

"Am I abnormal?" Georgie looked up, with big worried eyes. "After Bree's funeral, all I could think about was going into school and taking revenge. I can't even do that properly."

"What do you mean?" Mrs Simmons asked sharply. "Georgie!"

She was going to lecture her, she knew it. Bree's death was an accident. There were multiple witnesses who saw her running into the middle of the road, all by her self. Nobody goaded her into commiting suicide, and certainly nobody was on hand to give a little push.

But Georgie knew the truth.

The three witches had been haressing Bree, for an undefinable amount of time. Shortly before she died, Bree had staggered out of the pond yelling obscentities. And then the crash happened. And everyone was trying to return to normal, whilst the bottom of Georgie's world had fallen out without so much as a pipsqueak.

"Georgie?"

"Don't worry, mum. It was a stupid idea and I got it out of my system."

She needed to kill them. All of them.

"What did you do?"

"Just raided a few lockers like a mindless vandal. Nothing a good scrub can't cover."

"Anyone in particular?" Mrs Simmons was struggling to keep the nochalance in her voice.

"No." She couldn't tell the truth. "I think I was just angry, and channeled my anger by targeting random individuals. It was stupid of me. Especially since they had nothing to do with her death."

"That's right," Mrs Simmons let out her breath in a long whoosh. "You need to let this anger go. No good will come out of it. Especially when we live in a town full of supernatural creatures and a curfew."

"Thanks mum."

Georgie lent in for a goodnight kiss, and casually lent back. Her tears had dried, to cake her face in snot and make-up. She probably looked a right mess, but Mrs Simmons didn't say anything but lovingly caress her cheek. Her pyjamas were waiting for her, folded up and pressed neatly.

She was tempted to leave her window open for the night breeze, but that would involve a lottery of creatures, creeping or flying over the windowsill and watching her sleep. Something about that creeped her out. Some people even believed ghostly apparitions could appear, just when the veil was the thinnest, and suck the life out of the room.

Georgie padlocked her window, just in case.