Magic (The Thornbury Chronicles Book #1) Being Edited

Chapter 1

FINISHED! CHAPTER ONE IS FINALLY FINISHED! I changed quite a few things, so if you want to read it again most of it is the same, but I added in some pretty important details. So, yeah! Keep reading book lovers!

CHAPTER 1:

I never expected my sixteenth birthday to turn out the way it did. I never expected the two people I most relied on to leave me. And I never expected my life to change so much.

Ever since I can remember, I have been doing things with my mind; things that I don’t understand, things that are something like magic. When I was eight I froze a glass of water, when I was thirteen I made someone’s nose bleed without even touching them, and when I turned sixteen, I killed my parents.

As I sat in my room, at my desk, sulking about having to do homework on my birthday, I felt as if I was being watched. The eerie darkness pouring in from the window seemed unnatural, as if it were a black hole just waiting to drag you through it the first chance it got. I got up and pulled the blinds down, glancing out as I did so. I swear I thought I saw a face. I knew it was impossible; there was still a little sliver a fear in the back of my mind.  I looked back down at my homework, only to discover that a small fire had started. I scrambled backwards, fell out of the chair and stared at it. Did I do that? No it’s not possible. I picked up the edge of the paper, careful not to catch on fire myself and ran to the bathroom. I threw it into the bath and turned the cold water on.

I didn’t want anyone to find out about me. They would have thought I was a freak. I would never be treated the same again.

Later that night, I was woken up to the sound of objects crashing to the floor just outside my door. I heard my brother shrieking my name. I opened my eyes, to see my bedroom door blocked by a wall of fire. I could see Alex just beyond, trying to get upstairs, to where my parents were.

“I’m going to climb out the window!” I yelled to my brother. I climbed up onto the windowsill, and jumped into the rose bushes, which probably wasn’t the best idea.

I ran towards the front of the house. I must have inhaled a lot of smoke because I was feeling very light headed. A fire truck and an ambulance were parked outside. I tried to reach them, but I was too late. The world seemed to fall away around me, and I was left alone in the pitch black of night.

Now as I sit in the front row, at my parent’s funeral, my hand clamped tightly around my brother’s, I have never felt more alone. Even though people, who supposedly cared about my parents, surround me. People who I have never seen, nor heard about. Everyone is dressed in black, except for one man sitting right near the back of the Church. He wears a grey suit, and a bright red tie. He has broad shoulders, and a muscular body. He meets my gaze, and an uneasy suspicion hits me.

I have had dreams about this man.

His bright, icy blue eyes are what strike me first. I remember them so clearly. It sounds weird, but a few nights a week, I have the same dream. And he is in it. In the dream it shows my mother and this man having a conversation, in what looks to be a grand hall, decorated with high pillars and low hanging chandeliers that look so delicate that one heavy stomp on the floor would send them hurtling towards the ground. The man is dressed in black jeans, and a black leather jacket, and my mother wears a black tight dress that flows out around her calves. She is dressed so much more elegantly than I have ever seen her. Even in the photos of my fathers and her wedding. They don’t see me, so I assume that I am not really there. I can’t hear exactly what they are saying, their speeches muffled by an unknown barrier that lies between me and my mother. I make out a few words here and there, but none mean anything to me. Every time I have the dream, I seem to make out a few more words. A few more times and I will be so close that only the barrier is separating us. Of course, there is no actual barrier. Maybe my mind created it, knowing that whatever they are saying, I wouldn’t want to hear it. Or maybe it’s all just a crazy dream that means absolutely nothing.