mallory was falling. no, not in the physical sense like falling down the stairs. her falling was but a metaphor for how her mental health was plummeting. then again, it hadn't ever been that high in the first place. yet still, this was a low new even to her. everything in her life was abysmal. well, perhaps that wasn't entirely true. there were a few exceptions to this statement, and were the only things keeping her from crashing straight through rock bottom and disappearing into who knows what lies below.
one of those said exceptions was her magic, which she took admittedly long to recognize and come to terms with. it started with a few flickering lights and random things falling whenever her emotions got out of hand. in her defense, these such incidents were few and far between. thus, it took awhile to realize that it all wasn't just a coincidence. lucky for her no one was ever present for these times, or aren't intelligent enough to connect the dots.
upon realizing it though, she attempted to do it all intentionally, to no avail. so instead she took to searching in unlikely places for clues on how to use the power. she knew nothing on the matter would be found in traditional places by traditional means, thus she had to get creative. she searched high and low through weird trinket shops, the underground markets which toed the line of legal and illegal more than she liked, and small old bookstores. it just so happened that she struck gold one day while searching through such a bookstore; an old, leather bound spell book. looking back, the lady behind the counter had given her an awfully suspicious grin as she sold her the book, not to mention selling it for half the price she'd expected. it was unsettling to say the least, but appreciated. she had to work hard for every penny she had, and didn't really have much to spare for extra things like a potentially false spell book for witches.
at least she had a (relatively) permanent roof over her head which she didn't directly have to pay for. then again, this meant she was stuck under the supervision of her "mother" miss tanya and her "aunt" miss sophia, two sisters who couldn't care less about her unless she did something wrong. and by their standards wrong included walking too loud or being out of her room for anything more than food, bathroom, or traveling to either of said places. they preferred to pretend she didn't exist other than for the tax returns and monthly checks they got for caring for her; though she herself didn't mind this arrangement in the slightest. perhaps if they were nicer, or if she was a bit more extroverted, then it would bother her. but they weren't and she wasn't, and so she learned how to keep herself practically invisible.
and to be honest, she actually quite enjoyed the silence, independence, and alone time she received. it made studying magic far easier than it would've been otherwise. from the moment she got to her room on the day she bought the spell book, until now, she had dedicated next to all of her free time into studying magic. if it wasn't schoolwork, actual work, or the occasional reading, then it was training herself in the so called "dark arts". really a lot of it wasn't exactly illegal or dangerous, it just wasn't the goodie-two shoes solutions to problems. coddling and crying never really worked for Mallory, and these newfound answers to her problems weren't making them any more appealing than they were before she had other viable options.
in fact, the more she learned, the more she wanted to act. no more ignoring the taunts and jeers, no more sitting back while others unwelcomely made her decisions for her, and no more not knowing. she needed to find out what happened, who she was, why she had been abandoned. she knew she wasn't related to either of her caretakers from the start, and found out long ago which orphanage she came from. unfortunately, all she could get from there was that she was left by someone unknown with only a paper saying her name was mallory. each failure hastened her fall to despair, the sad emptiness tearing her apart and replacing everything outside of it with a steadily growing rage.
one day, she did find the answers she was looking for. who knew the very maid who had saved her would be alive and capable of recognizing her abnormal eyes, and be so willing to answer all of her questions. with each answer, the sorrow gained more and more control, fueling the rage to grow tenfold each passing moment. she stormed away from the maid before she could finish, not wanting to risk killing an innocent bystander in her growing anger. later, with a lot of self reflection, came many a thought, many an idea, and perhaps the beginnings of a plan. a plan to ensure those who had caused her life to come to this would feel the pain she felt and regret what they'd done. too bad she left before the maid could finish her tale, and maybe this story could've taken a different turn. but with every second, stones fell into place, sealing the future brick by brick.
