Prologue & Chapter 1

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Prologue:

Heat. Flames. Fire. The house was on fire. They have come for her.

"Diana! Diana!" I called into the smoke. I had grabbed the baby and was holding her tightly as I tried to find Diana. Panic was written on every inch of her face when I found her.

"How are we going to get out?!" I said, unable to hide the panic in my voice.

Diana closed her eyes, smoothing the panic from her face. A bubble of water formed from her hands, getting bigger and bigger.

I burst into a coughing fit, almost forgetting I was trapped in a burning house. Diana's magic was just so enchanting.

Diana opened her eyes when she felt the bubble was large enough and demanded that we get in it. When I got in, still clinging the baby to my chest, the bubble started to move. My eyes widened as I realized that Diana wouldn't join us. My eyes welled up with tears.

"Diana! Diana NO!" I sobbed, my best friend was going to die and she was just sending me away with her daughter.

The bubble had just reached the edge of the woods at the back of her house when I heard a terrible scream. The bubble popped when the screaming stopped. The simple truth hit me like a speeding car.

Diana was dead.


Chapter 1:

The light shone through the curtains, making the whole room blue. I groggily rose from my bed and made my way to the bathroom. I took a quick shower and got dressed before moving on to my hair. I ran my brush through my hair which was as dark as night, over and over again trying to get all the knots out. Once I was satisfied I made my way downstairs to the kitchen. Mom was at the stove cooking oatmeal.

"Breakfast is ready!" Mom said in her overly cheery voice. It still confuses me how she can be so energized this early in the morning.

With a wave of my hand the bowl of oatmeal that was on the counter rose and made its way across the room and into my hands. Being born with telekinesis had made me so lazy. But I had to be careful about using it, I was a witch and the world hated whiches. Or at least the majority of the world, which was the human population.

Humans hate witches, or as my mom, who is also human, says, humans just hate what they can't understand. Mom was not my biological mom. She had found me when she was strolling the beach just a few blocks from our house, I was just a little baby. She had brought me home and raised me, unaware that I was a witch. When my powers started to show she still didn't abandon me, she loved me too much at that point. She had taught me everything I needed to know about who I was and how to hide my powers. Apparently, a long time ago the humans banished all witches to the ocean which is now the kingdom of the Under Sea, run by Queen Anastasia. Any witch caught on land will be brutally executed by the government, and it is known that often the public would be allowed to participate in the executing, just for their pure entertainment. It disgusted me.

I quickly finished my oatmeal and using my telekinesis again, moved the bowl into the sink while also bringing my backpack towards me.

"I'm going to head out now mom, see you later."

"By sweetie, have a good day at school."

"Thanks, mom bye!"

"Did you grab your lunch?" Mom said as a last-minute thought.

"Shoot," I opened the fridge and allowed my lunch to float into my backpack before zipping it and jogging out the front door.

I took a deep breath before slowing my jog down into a normal walking pace. Now that I was out of the house I had to make sure that no part of my witch self was showing. It was a bit too early to be running around because school wasn't going to start for a bit, I didn't want to look suspicious. I was heading to school early so I could spend a half-hour or so in the library reading books.

***

"Spell plausible" Mr. O'Conner spoke to Jake. We were in the middle of our weekly Monday spelling bee. Mr. O'Conner seemed to think that it was the perfect way to get our brains going on a Monday.

"Plausible. P-L-A-U-S-A-B-L-E. Plausible."

"Sorry Jake, that is incorrect. If Marabella gets this next word she will be the winner of today's spelling bee, if not you will have another chance."

"Marabella, spell philanthropist."

"Philanthropist. P-H-I-L-A-N-T-H-R-O-P-I-S-T. Philanthropist." I said in confidence, knowing full well that I had spelled it right. Somehow I always managed to win the Monday spelling bees.

"That is correct," Mr. O'Conner said, "And that makes you, Marabella, once again the winner to Mr. O'Conner's Monday Spelling Bee. Congrats!" He then turned to the class as Jake and I returned to our seats.

"Now that our brains are all up and running, we will be resuming our lesson on analyzing works of literature. Please take out your textbooks and turn to page 250 as I pass around today's passage."

I sighed as I pulled out my two-ton textbook, wishing that I could just use my telekinesis. The spelling bees were by far the only fun thing in this class.

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