[ WP ] The girl that everyone knows but never talks to is a witch . If desperate , people got to her for solutions . She helps , but for a price . One day she comes to you in need of a favor , and in return she promises the memories she took from you nearly a year ago in a deal you no longer remember .

I shook two pills out of the bottle and into my palm, looking out the window at the only vaguely familiar town as I swallowed them dry. The action I'd performed daily for the last three months felt far more familiar and friendly to me than the scene out the window. 
 Retrograde amnesia. That's what the doctors said I had. My memory went back ten months, to when I'd woken up in a hospital bed surrounded by strangers who'd apparently found me in the woods outside of town. Before that, nothing. I had to live with strangers who called themselves my parents as I tried to get to know them. I had to re-learn my own goddamn name. And as I went back to a school I did n't recognize in a city I did n't recall, I had to deal with the consequences of a life I did n't remember. 
 See, those pills? They are n't for the amnesia. No, that's'treated' with the stupid therapy sessions I have to go to three times a month in an attempt to get out of me memories that simply are n't there. No, the pills are anti-depressants I started taking to cope with the reality of being'the crazy girl' of the city. Social ostracization is not a pleasant thing. I apparently had friends before the incident; many people over the first two months had come to demand to know if I'd recovered. Some even stuck by me for two or three weeks, helping me orient myself in the city as they waited for my memory to return. But they all left in the end, when it was clear I was n't going to go back to how I was. Now people cross the street to avoid having to deal with me. Now whispers follow me wherever I go.'There goes crazy Christine', they whisper.'Remember her two years ago? now she does n't recognize her own parents'. Oh yeah, my name's Christine. Apparently. 
 & npsb; 
 But I do what I have to and I deal with it. I go to the highschool I go to and I listen to the gossip to try to figure out the workings of the place. Annie's the Queen, head of a big group of Mean Girls who run the school. Marlin and his crew were the guys you did n't want to cross - people like me were the ones who ended up going home with a shiner if one of Marlin's gang caught them. As for outcasts like me, there were the smokers in the smoke pit; they seemed like pretty nice folks, if a little smelly. There were the nerds playing Magic: The Gathering in a corner in the cafeteria and praying done of Marlin's gang decided it would be funny to flush their cards down a toilet. There were the weirdo anime freaks with cartoon characters of their laptops talking about which fictional character they wanted to marry or whatever, and then there was Marionne. 
 Even I, the depressed social outcast, was n't desperate enough to try to hang out with Marionne. Everyone knew she was weird. She dressed like some kind of housewife or doll, but with certain things wrong: today a pink dress that stopped above the knee, looking like it ought to have an apron in front of it, with a red sweater tied around the waist and her hair cut into a bob. The girl curtsied to say hello, for crying out loud! 
 And yet, outcast of the outcasts, Marionne was n't picked on. People were scared of her. Rumour had it she could do anything, even the blatantly impossible. When they were truly desperate, people would go to Marionne for help. One kid who asked her to raise his grades got straight A's for the next three semesters. Another wished for money to help cover their parents rent and found a winning lottery ticket in the trash. Rumour had it Marlin used to be 6'4'' before someone asked her to knock him down a peg and she shrunk him by a foot. No one crossed Marionne, not if you valued your life. But no one wanted to admit they'd gone to her either, especially as she did n't do this stuff for free. So every student steered well clear of the creepy Marionne. Including me. 
 & nbsp; 
 I put the pill bottle on the counter and ran out the door to get to school. Walking was always an ordeal because I sometimes forgot the way, but my parents did n't yet trust that I'd re-learned how to drive. I was dashing up the street with still another ten minutes to go when I heard a soft, wavering voice behind me. 
 `` Excuse me, miss Christine?'' 
 I turned around. Behind me, Marionne was in mid curtsy, inclining her head towards me. Great, now I'd probably been seen with her. As if my social situation needed to be any worse. `` What do you want?'' I asked warily. 
 `` I assume you've heard about the favours and assistance that I've granted other people?'' Her voice was light and sweet, like a taste of cotton candy. I did n't trust it. Sweets can cause cavities. 
 `` Yeah, I've heard. And I do n't need any help.'' I told her. 
 `` I understand.'' She answered. `` See, I'm the one who is requesting help in this situation.'' Her large, strange eyes lingered on my face. `` You see, Annie has taken something very dear to me. I thought if anyone could help me get it back, it would be you.'' 
 I rolled my eyes. While I felt bad for her, it would be social suicide to be going up against Annie, let alone with someone like Marionne. Not that I had much of a good reputation to begin with, but I was n't going to throw my chances away. `` And why would I do that?'' 
 `` Well, I would pay you quite well.'' She responded. `` Not in money, of course. How about this; You get my possession back from Annie, I will return your memories to the way they were.'' 
 I twitched. `` What?'' I forced out after a moment. `` Did you have something to do with my memories disappearing?'' Was that what happened when they found me in the forest that day? Did Marionne do that? 
 `` It was the agreement. I have something done for me, I erase your memory so you can not function well in this town again.'' 
 Heat was rising in my chest. `` You expect me to believe that?'' I snapped. I thought about all the awkward moments with my parents, all the desperate attempt to point out I really did not know who were my friends were, all the times I'd gotten lost in my own hometown `` You expect me to think I agreed to this? That I *asked* you to take my memories away from me?'' 
 Marionne laughed; the sound was like wind-chimes. `` Oh, Christine. Whoever said I made the agreement with you?''
