Connection

Chapter One: Charlotte

—

Chapter One: Charlotte

—

They came in the middle of the night. Cloaked by nearly palpable darkness and muffled by the sound of her tears, Charlotte Swiftless was taken completely by surprise—something that rarely happened.

Her father had broken down once again, for he'd seen a Suskullot plant which he claimed reminded him of her mother. Knowing what she had to do, Charlotte went to comfort him, but this time, things were different. He didn't want her to lie; to say things were okay. And it was in this unfortunate twist of events that everything went wrong.

"I promise we'll get through this, dad, we always have in the end. It'll be all right," she whispered, wrapping her arms around him briefly, though no signs of sympathy littered her face. For the first time, he threw her off, tears streaming heavily down his face.

"Shut the hell up!" he shouted, sitting down, grabbing his legs, and pulling them to his chest like a child. Charlotte backed away, unsure of what to do—he'd just accepted her empty words in the past. And a change in reaction with him was unpredictable; dangerous.

"All right, I'm just gonna go . . . go get water," Charlotte muttered in a desperate attempt for more time to think out a plan. Slowly, she began backing out of the room. Sweat was forming on the palms of her hands and her heart pounded against her ribcage.

"Like hell you will!" he hollered, pushing himself to his feet in a sudden change of emotion. "You'll just leave me like your worthless mother!"

"Do not call her worthless!" Charlotte exclaimed, a sudden wave of fury crashing over her to mirror her father's. "Don't you dare play victim here—she died! It wasn't her fault, and you sure didn't seem to care at the time! Don't you dare claim the woman you supposedly loved is worthless when just seconds ago you were crying over her! She was a better person than you'll ever be!"

Her father wore a look of absolute fury—one that seemed cut into her like a talon, but something had snapped inside of her.

"You'll regret speaking to me like that," he threatened, his forged tears halting completely. She turned to leave the room, but in a sudden flourish of movement he grabbed her arm and yanked her back. And that was the last straw.

"Get off of me!" she screamed, calling fire to her hand just as she'd done countless times in school. The flame flared in her palm instantly and as she held it under her father's arm, his skin began to burn with a sick sizzle. A scream of pain exploded out of his mouth as he realized what she was doing. Her release was immediate as her father pulled away and began fostering his burned arm.

"How could you use element wielding on your own father? You're sure lucky I put up with you and your magic crap! Don't you think I'll forget this! This whole 'top of the class' stuff has gotten to your head, it has! You're terrible at magic, and you don't deserve all that praise you get. And to use it on—"

But she wasn't listening. She ran from their elegant front hall to her large room, slamming the door. An angry sigh exploded out of her mouth and an unbearable urge to scream flared up inside of her; she was tired of his crazy emotions and the way she was treated.

"Faspecka!" she cried, and heard the door lock with a satisfying click. Normally, Charlotte wouldn't have bothered locking her door, but with her father in this state, she suspected he wouldn't think to bother with the lock if it didn't open; with emotions clouding his mind, she reckoned he would forget he possessed magic entirely.

And she was right. Outside, he banged on her door for nearly an hour, but never attempted to unlock it; his mind was completely derailed from the state he was in. All the while, Charlotte sat on the balcony that extended off of her room, leaning against a potted plant, her hands curled around the bars that stopped her from falling.