Dangerous (Book 1)

I am dangerous. I am the definition of destruction. I am cursed. Not the kind of cursed where everything I touch explodes. No, definitely not that. I'm cursed as in everything I say, write, or wish, whether it's beyond belief or seems impossible, becomes reality. Which, by the way, is not always a good thing just in case you're wondering.

Some would call me a witch. Others, a freak! Anyway, you're probably scratching your head right about now, curious about how I got this way. It's been like this since the day I turned six. We had just sat down for cake and presents. Pandemonium filled my house as random kids I didn't even know screamed and chased my cat, Gigi, into the swimming pool.

I remember taking a chair at the end of the table next to my mom and dad as they set a chocolate cake in front of me. “Happy Birthday, Star!” was elegantly written in pink frosting. Six candles were carefully placed in the cake and carried flames at the very top. My mom had leaned next to me, kissed the crown of my head, and whispered, “Make a wish.” A grin spread across my face and my eyes automatically closed as I transformed the tiny fire lights into nothing.

Piercing screams rang in my ears as shock and surprise replaced my dad's calmness. “Wait here,” he told my mom, rising from his chair and rushing outside the door. Realizing that he never told me to stay, I trailed behind him as my mother called my name for me to come back inside. I ignored her, halting abruptly in my steps, not daring to move or breathe. Its mane gleamed white. Its fur was like the shining moon. Its nostrils flared with majestic rage. Its horn pointed to a sharp tip and glittered against the glowing sun. Just how I had imagined it would be. My wish. A Unicorn.

Wow, Star. How ridiculous and ludicrous are you? You must be thinking how stupid that I had wished for a unicorn. I was six with hopes and dreams! I didn't understand until that moment that unicorns weren't supposed to even exist. So, yeah, my sixth birthday was beyond crazy. Animal control had to come and take the unicorn, which did not settle with me so well. I've been careful with what I wish for ever since.

I guess it's safe to say that I rarely use my so-called “gift” and, apparently, that's extremely hard to do. Unless the idea of revenge and hatred takes over me. Otherwise, in my mind, they don't exist. I don't exist. My name doesn't seem to exist. I'm a nobody, alone and invisible. Yet, in some ways, dangerous.

No one ever suspects me of doing something wrong. I could get away with murder, no one looking my way. No one accuses me of anything. My hands are clean. Why? Because everyone sees me as, not a threat, but as someone who's never really belonged in anything. Everyone except Luna. Luna's sort of like a sister to me. An annoying sister. We look exactly alike except for the hair.

Mine is red. Her's is brown. Our golden eyes mirror each other. Our skin shares the same pallid sheet of color. Luna is my reflection of a different me; she is my twin in the glass. It would only make sense that our birthdays are the same. I, 3:00 am. She, 3:00 pm. Oh, how strange life is when you appear to keep it alive with someone else.

***

“Hey, Star,” Luna says, walking toward my direction. I pull in a sharp breath. It is amazing how much she reminds me of, well, me. “Hi, Luna. Do you have your Algebra book? I need to finish the homework from last night.” She digs into her bag and retrieves a very large orange book that looks as thought it weighs a ton. And when she tosses it to me, it does.

I set it on the grass in front of me and grab a pencil from my bag. Luna takes a seat next to me, leaning against the tree. I'm almost finished with my math when she asks, “You're having nightmares again, aren't you?” I lower my head and close my eyes. It was almost as if she could read my mind. Almost.

I tell her the truth. “Yes,” I admit, keeping my head down, eyes shut. She purses her lips, making the face that always transformed her into a little kid, even when she's sixteen. “It's not all bad. The nightmares. They – distract me,” I explain slowly and quietly to let Luna know that I really don't want to talk about it. Unfortunately, she doesn't get the hint.