Every Magic Has a Price

Chapter One - Face the Past

I was born in 1997.

At the age of four, I laid my eyes on a small bundle of fluffy blankets, a little red wrinkly hand poking out, and my Dad said he's my brother, Liam.

At the age of five, I saw my mother being burned alive.

At the age of nine, I told my Dad I was afraid of the monster hiding in the trashy motel room's closet. He gave me a gun.

At the age of eleven, I started seeing ghosts, everywhere. When I told the teacher in my school I saw the janitor who died in an accident a few years back, she called in my father in the afternoon for a "grown-up talk".

At the age of sixteen, after a huge fight with my father, I ran away to my uncle. He took me in.

At the age of seventeen, I graduated and got a scholarship for the Washington State University.

At the age of nineteen, my father went missing.

The same year, I've fallen in love.

And after that, I died and went to Hell.

May 25, 2016.
Seattle, Washington

I dragged my feet across the stairs, one by one, they all seemed to conquer my strength and still, I managed, somehow. I never got why Reese had to have the top apartment rented; he said something about views. After a ten-hours shift at the supermarket on the corner, stacking the shelves, I couldn't give a fucking damn about the view, how the night sky was littered with shiny stars, like a black canvas with silver glitter, nor how the moon looked like a glimmering pendant.

All I felt was the dull ache in my heels, and instead of how it'd have been in a sonnet, there were no crickets, not in the smokey neighborhood we lived in. No, the noise of the night were some drunk guys hanging out behind the building and the cars passing down the road. An ambulance car passed through the street, shrieking with red and blue lights, as I finally reached the tenth floor and dragged out my keys after some rummaging in my sports beg which smelled of my sweat.

I couldn't care. I was home.

So was Reese. And judging by the pair of red high-heels (even the sight of them made my legs scream in pain), he wasn't alone. This conclusion of mine was soon confirmed by female giggling coming from the short corridor. The voice was followed by the appearance of a blonde, really beautiful woman and my uncle, Reese, laughing and kissing in a drunk haze. That is, until they saw me. I loved how my appearance caused them to try to look sober. They failed miserably, but still, I appreciated the effort.

"Hey, Charlie!" he slurred, immediately taking his hands off of the woman's hips. "You're home already?"

"Yeah, I worked till 10PM. Liiiike always," I smiled tiredly, dropping down the heavy bag containing my work stuff, and throwing my keys to the bowl next to the TV.

"I thought you said you were single," the woman remarked, looking beat-up and nervous right away.

"No, I am, I am, eeeh... Jessica? This is my niece, Charlotte. Charlotte, this wonderful woman is," Reese smirked, his greenish blue eyes tinkling with mischief, making the woman named Jessica giggle again," Jessica. We met at Macintosh's."

You simply couldn't miss the hint in his words. "Yeah, I figured. Actually, I thought I'd pay him a visit," I lied without blinking an eye. I wasn't twenty-one (though at Macintosh's, barely would ever care about that, Reese has been working there for years and they knew me), but false words have always come easily to my mouth; it was the only way of survival in our world, after all.

"Wonderful," Reese repeated, "my wallet's over there, take some money and have fun!" he waved me goodbye with joy (and, much to my disgust, clear desire) written all over his features as he looked down at Jessica and started herding her to his room. Before he disappeared from my sight, he mouthed 'thank you' to me.