Ariel Winters grabbed her suitcase from the carousel, tripping backwards as she struggled one handed with its weight.

Her other hand was gripped tightly around a small mahogany box that had once belong to her Grandmother Sophie. It wasn't a special box. There was no value to it. Her Grandmother had used it to keep her favourite diamond necklace safe, and when she died, the necklace and box had been passed onto Ariel. The necklace was now long gone - sold by Ariel's older sister Paige to finance her Mini Cooper which had lasted all of three months before she totaled it. Now, it held something much more valuable to Ariel than any gaudy diamond and she couldn't risk letting it go, even for a second.

The box slipped in her sweaty fingers and she immediately let go of the suitcase, the crashing sound lost in the cacophony of talking people, carousel machinery and overhead speaker systems reminding passengers to declare any food or goods that they were bringing into the country.

"Goddamit!" She gripped the box tightly with both hands, her chest panging sharply with fear.

Unconsciously she rubbed her chest, over a large light brown scar that covered her heart - or at least used to. To anyone who glimpsed the scar, it would have looked like an abnormally large birthmark. The edges appeared pinched and pulled, as if someone had pushed the mark into her skin. Little did they know but that assumption would be right That mark had been seared into her skin two weeks ago - the day a witch had cursed her; ripping out her heart and turning it to glass.

Just thinking of that day made the scar tingle and Ariel rubbed it harder. People were starting to stop and look at her, though she couldn't blame them. Even she would stop and stare at a strange girl sitting on the ground holding an even stranger old box like it was a newborn infant. She got up quickly and pulled her suitcase up, releasing the trolley handle so she could wheel it through the crowd.

The mass of people milling about sent a sliver of nerves down her spine. The exit was still a fair distance away and all it would take was one bump to drop the box and...

No! She shook her head. When did I become such a wimp? She thought. She forced herself to remember why she was here -

Paige.

Anger flared and she squared her shoulders. This was all Paige's fault. She was the one who had forced Ariel to flirt with that strange boy and upset his mother who had apparently been some psycho witch. Once her father had seen what had happened, he had locked her away, revulsion etched in every line of his face while he tried to think of some way to remedy the situation so no news spread of her 'problem'. Trapped in her room, she had been cut off from the outside world. But her sister - had Paige been punished? No! She just laughed at Ariel's misfortunes and carried on with her plastic life or partying and ingratiating herself with the 'people who mattered'. People Ariel had used to think mattered too.

Not anymore.

Using that anger, she pushed her way through the crowds, joining the line of passengers waiting to go through the final checks. Her blonde hair hung in an oily clump atop her head and she brushed away a loose strand that was stuck to her cheek with her shoulder. Two weeks ago, she would have never set foot outside without a clean head of hair that was primped to perfection. Appearances had been everything when you were trying to work your way up the Melbourne popularity circuit. For Ariel, Paige had been her one way ticket. Her sister had already connived her way into several important inner circles, and Ariel had begged her to give her a step up, believing it was her duty as an older sister to give her a hand.

She smiled grimly, seeing herself in the reflection of a screen advertising what to have ready when you reached the front of the queue. Her checkered shirt was crumpled and stained with orange juice that her eight year old neighbor on her first flight had decided was much better suited for her shirt. Her jeans dragged on the ground, too long for her short legs, the edges beginning to fray and covered in dirt from three different airports. If she were at home right now, she would not be allowed near Paige and her precious friends with a hundred foot pole.

The line inched forward and she heard a door open on the other side of the screen. With it came a blast of cold that had her arms rising with goose bumps.

An elderly woman in front of her noticed her jump and smiled apologetically. "I take it this is your first time in England, dear?"

Ariel nodded, clutching her box closer. She knew that the woman didn't know her heart was in the box, and couldn't possibly want it, but paranoia had become a daily part of her life and everyone was the enemy even sweet old ladies.

She looked at Ariel's suitcase and then back at the line. "Do you have a cardigan? If you hurry, you can get it out before you reach the front of the line. Otherwise it might be a bit of a shock to your system when you step outside."

Nothing can shock me anymore. Ariel bit back the angry retort and nodded mutely again. She was just a nice old lady; she didn't deserve her anger. The person who deserved it was thousands of kilometers away, probably in a nightclub attached to the bankcard of some greased up rich kid. She quickly unzipped her suitcase and pulled out a gray jumper, yanking it over her head. This involved letting go of the box and she placed it between her feet, her shoes pressing tightly against the sides.

She soon reached the front of the line and the airport officer glanced at her passport and declaration cards before finally landing on her wooden box. "What are you bringing into the country, ma'am?"

Anger at being called 'ma'am' flared. She was only eighteen for God's sake! "A box. I would have thought the shape made it pretty obvious."

He sighed, eyes closing. Dealing with teenagers was obviously not one of his strong suits. "You need to open the box, ma'am or I will be forced to take you to an interrogation room and we will open it there."

"Really?" she scowled. She dug into her handbag and pulled out a crumpled envelope. "Perhaps the contents of this will change your mind."

"Are you attempting to bribe an officer -"

"No! Just read it!" She shoved it at him and stepped back to wait. This wasn't the first time she had been through this problem. Both Melbourne and Abu Dhabi had given her the same trouble. Even though she no longer appreciated certain aspects to her...wealthy upbringing, she was secretly glad her father knew enough Qantas bigwigs to solve this nosey problem all airport security officers seemed to have.

He opened the letter, making a show of being exasperated. His face paled as his eyes continued to peruse its contents and he hurriedly folded it and handed it back.

"Sorry, Miss Winters. Please enjoy your stay in London."

The use of 'Miss' wasn't lost on her but she was suddenly too tired to continue this argument. Stalking past him, she rounded the corner and passed through the large sliding doors. The noise intensified as she found herself in the center of a huge circle of people, all waiting for their loved ones. People raced forward as they met mothers, fathers, brothers and cousins for the first time in heaven knows how long. She watched them briefly with a pang of envy. There would be no one special waiting for her. The only people who knew where she was were her father and sister. They hadn't even let her speak to her Grandfather. She wondered what they would tell him when he asked about her absence.

"Miss Winters?"

She looked to her left. A tall thin man beckoned to her with an easy smile. His black suit was one size too big for his lanky frame and she could see the marks where it had been tailored crudely, though it was still too big. His black hair was a mess of curls. There was evidence he had tried to smooth them down, but he seemed to be fighting a losing battle. A name card was in his grip, 'A. Winters' written sharply in thick black marker.

She stepped towards him. "Ariel. Miss Winters is my sister."

He tipped his hat. "Welcome to England, Ariel. My name is Dobson. I'll be your driver for this afternoon."

He waited for a response but she simply stared back. She wasn't here to make friends. She was here to reverse Temple of Doom her heart back into her chest so she could be normal again.

Eventually he took the hint and reached over to take her suitcase. As he reached for the box she stepped back. "I can carry this one."

"Are you sure? I'm quite happy to -"

"I will carry this one." She said firmly.

"Alright then!" He smiled cheerfully and started to lead her through the crowds.

She stuck close to Dobson, jogging lightly to keep up with his long strides. She bumped into a woman wearing a lavender dress suit who turned up her nose at Ariel's appearance. She wanted to stop and tell her to take a picture but she pressed on, leaving the woman to mutter about untidy youths in the middle of the airport.

They passed through large sliding doors, over a small walkway and entered a parking garage. The air had become bitterly cold and her jumper was proving to be useless. She shivered and moved faster, desperate to be out of the cold.

They finally reached a dark blue Sedan and Dobson popped the trunk, throwing her suitcase in with ease. "Anything else you want in there?"

"No."

"Okay!" He slammed the lid down and she raised an eyebrow. His good mood was a little creepy and she wondered if he'd been taking something while waiting for her flight.

"Are you safe to drive?"

"Of course!" He glanced at her curiously. "Why do you ask?"

"Nothing." She opened the back door and climbed in. Donning her seatbelt, she considered putting the box in the seatbelt beside her but Dobson might think that was weird. She was beyond caring about some things but being considered a weirdo freak by her driver was not on the list just yet.

She placed it on her lap instead. While Dobson started to maneuver his way out of the building, she pulled out a long thin silver chain from beneath her shirt. An old rusted key was at the end of it and she quietly inserted it into the lock and twisted. It opened with a soft click and she peeked inside, the scar on her chest tingling with anticipation.

Her heart lay nestled on a purple silk cushion, the glass glinting as a ray of sun snuck through the car window. Hesitantly, she reached out and placed her hand across its cool surface. Instantly her body thrummed with remembrance as her blood pounded. Her eyes closed as she felt the frantic beating course through her being. Her scar throbbed painfully, as if remembering the object that had once been housed beneath its surface.

"We'll be on the road for a few hours so if you need to stop don't hesitate to let me know."

She jumped, releasing her heart and slammed the box shut. "F-fine. Let's just hurry up and get there."

Without touching her heart, she could no longer feel the blood, which was still pulsing, through her veins - or at least she thought it was. She still bled, as experienced from tripping and grazing her shin while she was trapped in solitary confinement. The loss of sensation filled with her with a different kind of pain and she closed her eyes, willing the tears stinging her eyes not to fall. She would overcome this.

There was too much green.

Ariel stared out the car window, watching the endless sea of green pastures and hillsides roll by. Living in Melbourne, she didn't see much grass unless she went to the parks, but even their green couldn't compare to the emerald waves outside the car. The park's grass was green on the top due to the limited water irrigation and the base of every blade was generally a dry yellow, the true colour of summer, Australia.

Autumn in England was going to be tough. The sun was struggling to be seen through the clouds and while the day looked average, she knew that as soon as she stepped out of the car, she would be frozen. She had never been a fan of the colder months. Her ideal time of year was when she got to go to the beach and lie on the sand, soaking up the sun's warm rays until her skin was tight and on the verge of burnt. Her friends had often compared her to a snake - a cold blooded creature that needed the sun to warm its cold heart . It was an analogy they used right until the very last time they had spoken three months ago when she had ditched them for a 'higher lifestyle', only the last time was spoken with cruelty, not kindness.

The moment they left the airport she had drifted into a fitful sleep. She had vague flashes of large buildings and lines of traffic before it quieted and the world outside became more open and peaceful.

She hugged the chest closer as the road became rough and a sliver of panic tightened her rib cage. The sensation felt familiar, yet different. She longed to open the small box again and pull out her heart. She wanted to touch it, to feel her pulse, to feel normal -

"We're nearly there, Ariel. Not long to go now." Dobson interrupted her thoughts and she quickly looked out the window.

She was thankful that Dobson had been quiet on the journey. Questions had become her least favourite thing in the world. The first thing someone always asked was, 'how are you?' and she couldn't answer that question without wanting to fall into a mind numbing rage.

Dobson was also the reason she refused to open the chest again. If he saw what was inside, more questions would be asked -

"What is that?"

"You're messing with me, right?"

"How on earth did that happen?"

She closed her eyes, the green still managing to penetrate her eyelids and she leaned back on the leather seat as she thought about her place of future incarceration.

Sherwood Institution for the Magically Afflicted. This was her father's so called answer to her curse. She wasn't sure how he had found the place, but he had wasted no time packing her away to another country before anyone of significance should find out about her 'unexpected condition'. She had no idea what this Sherwood would be like and images of soft padded cells and leering orderlies filled her mind. It would be just like her father to lie and pretend he had found a place that treats curses. He had promised her when she was twelve years old that she would be going to a public secondary school, one of her choosing. She believed it all Summer until finally two days before school started, her father informed her she would be going to St. Mary's school for girls, same as her sister.

They were both liars; like father like daughter.

The car turned down a small driveway encased in giant Oaks and she sat taller, her stomach twisting into knots as they rolled slowly through the dark tree tunnel. The car broke back into the light, revealing a large two story white stone building, tinted in the orange glow of the setting sun.

Dobson pulled to a stop and glanced back, still smiling. "Final destination, Sherwood!"

Yay, she thought dryly.

________

Hey guys, so first chapter of a new story. I hate writing beginnings lol! Feel free to share your thoughts below!