- PROLOGUE -

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"You're going to Chokey!"
I leapt back in fear with shakily breaths, shaking my head. "No! No, please Miss Trunchbull! I swear! I didn't do it!" I cried, stepping back quickly as the Headmistress came marching towards me. "I don't care if you did it or not, child. All maggots are punished." She replied and grabbed my arm tightly, dragging me out of the school as the thunder roared in response to her actions.
"Miss Trunchbull please! It wasn't me!" I begged once again.
"Silence, maggot." She yelled in response, dragging me roughly.
I tried get out of her grip but it was impossible. She was a professional hammer thrower. A champion.

We finally made it to Chokey, a massive box that was made of spikes and wood that wasn't even wide enough to sit down. You wouldn't want to sit down anyway because there were nails on the bottom so you'd wish you would've stood.
She threw me in and glared at me.
"I'm oh so sorry, child. But you know the motto, don't you? Bambinatum est Magitum."
"Children."
"Are."
"MAGGOTS!"
The Trunchbull roared and closed the door on me. I dodged the spikes from the inside door and breathed heavily.
It wasn't me. I didn't do it!
I kept telling myself that it wasn't me and this was just a cruel nightmare.
I would be let out in no time.
Surely.
Right?

But I wouldn't. I'd be stuck in there for hours, days, nights.. nonono. There was no way.
Surely that's illegal.
It has to be!
Time started going by slowly and it got so bad I had to count the amount of spikes on the walls, floors, roof and door. And amounts of broken shards. I sometimes wondered how children didn't die in there. It was torture.

Thankfully, hours started to fly by like seconds until I heard the door swing open. Trunchbull stood there and yanked me out. "Get out of here, maggot. If you disobey one more time you'll stay in there for two days." She warned me and I just sprinted off in horror.
I didn't know what time it was or how long I was in there.
All I wanted was to go home.

I sprinted all the way to a nearby place where I saw a weirdly young child walking home with books. Library books.
The little girl looked like a primary school child. Or she would be going to a primary school next year.
Let's just hope she doesn't go to Crunchem Hall.
Wait. She has books?
A child shouldn't be reading at that age. I got a glimpse of what one of the books were.
'Jane Eyre.'
What?
No. There was no way. Surely she was just getting it for a parent. Surely.

Eventually I finally made it home, panting.
"Hortensia! Where were you!?" My mother asked frantically.
"..Uh. I was at the library." I lied. Everyone knew that if they told their parents about Chokey with no proof, nobody would listen. Probably even if you had proof.
"The library? You wouldn't go to the library. I know you too well." My father responded. "Don't lie to us, child."
"I'm not lying! I read a whole book, I swear!"
"And what book was that?"
"Jane Eyre." I nodded. I was so grateful for that little girl carrying all those books.
"I seriously doubt that but it's alright, I suppose. Go get ready for bed." My father sighed and went back to reading the daily news. He always read it. It was a ritual for him.

I ran upstairs and tried forget about Chokey. It was so crammed and I could hardly breathe. I couldn't see not even the end of my nose. If you ever tried scream for help you wouldn't know if sound came out or if it even reached your mouth.
But most importantly I tried forget about the kids who wouldn't stick up for me. They knew I didn't put syrup on the Trunchbull's chair. And yet nobody said a word.
It was then that I had an idea.
A plan.
And I know what you're asking.
'A plan? What plan?'
A plan against the Trunchbull of course. To revolt against her. A war.

I'd wear accessories that wouldn't be allowed. But what?
Any hat. But I didn't want a ugly hat. No way. And it wouldn't be the school hat.
Maybe...
A red beret.
And then it was decided.
I now had a perfect plan against the Trunchbull to take her down. Well, hopefully take her down.

But there was one thing I didn't expect.
One little genius that would intervene.

Revolting | HORTENSIA'S POVWhere stories live. Discover now