𝔗𝔥𝔢 ℌ𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔚𝔢'𝔯𝔢 𝔇𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔱 (ℌ𝔓 𝔛 𝔐𝔞𝔩𝔢 𝔒ℭ)

What'd You Just Call Me?

Jake's POV

Listen, magic is pretty cool when you first believe that it exists. But then you slowly start to see its dangerous truth when you get more and more exposed to it.

If you have been doing things that are not considered normal, like making things float like a Jedi or seeing skeletal horses with wings flying around, you might just be one of us. Hell, if you're a No-Maj, or a Muggle like the Brits say, you shouldn't even be reading this. There are reasons why both worlds are completely separate from one another.

If you are reading this, here's a piece of advice: Don't get your hopes up. You might think that sending people flying or making fire out of thin air with a flick of the wrist is cool, and truth be told, it is. But the magical world, like every other beautiful thing that's ever existed, has a hidden ugly side that's constantly trying to show itself.

My name is Jacob Steven Spector, but I prefer to be called Jake. I had just turned 11 years old, and even though I was born in England, I had spent the last 10 years of my life in New York City.

I know you're wondering, "Jake, why'd you go to New York and not stay in England?" Well, based on what I've been told, my birth parents died in an accident when I was a year old. Alexia Spector, the woman who raised me for the last decade, was a good friend of my mother and took me to America to raise me as her own.

For some reason, I've been having the same nightmare for as long as I could remember. I hear a man and a both, both British, having some kind of hurried conversation while I, as a baby, was crying in the middle of it. The man tells the woman to take me and run, she tries to stay with him, but he tells her that if she stays, both they and I will die. The woman runs, another dude with a heavy British accent shows up, asking where me and the woman were. The two find, but the heavy-accent dude shouts something that sounds a lot like "Abracadabra" and then I see a bright green flash of light. I never know what happens after that because I'd always wake up when the green light appears.

And it's no different today.

I sat up panting, trying to catch my breath, because I had just had that stupid nightmare again. The first thing I heard was Kate Bush's voice coming from the clock radio on the bedside table. I smach the alarm to shut it off, then I ran my hand through my hair, which I saw was constantly switching between its normal dark brown color, to frickin' blue, then grey, then red, then back to brown when I glanced at my bedroom mirror.

Yeah, ever since I was born, my hair would change colors, depending how I feel. It made feel like a freak, so I had the sides and back of my head shaved clean off, and I'd wear a hat or a beanie or I'd put a hood over my head to hide the top of my head.

Jake: (sighs) Dammit.

I get off the bed, put a cap on, and walk out of my bedroom. I walk downstairs and see my mother sitting on the couch in the living room, with a cup of coffee in one hand and a newspaper in another.

Jake: Morning, Mom.

Mom looked up from the newspaper and smiled when she saw me.

Alexia: Morning, birthday boy.

Jake: Wait...That's today?

Mom let out a giggle as she got up, took my cap off, and kissed the top of my head.

Alexia: Well, you always forget about it, so somebody ought to remind you.

Jake: Get off.

I gently pushed her away and put my cap back on, but I couldn't help but gain a small smile on my face. I walked into the kitchen and grabbed an apple off the pantry.