Deadly Omen

Chapter 1

Waiting tables, almost 3 years and I'm still just waiting tables. I was only doing this to get my hours in for high school but now I'm in grade 11 and have done more than enough time. I should have stopped a while ago but my dad makes me stay. He owns the restaurant and I guess he likes me working there; but I hate it. I feel like I practically live here, I have no freedom. Sure, I get payed but it's still awkward to take money from him. I step out of the sticky hot day and into the cool air-conditioned building.

"Where have you been? There are two people waiting to be served in your section!" My dad greets angrily.

"Why didn't you just let somebody else take their order?" I say coldly. I'm not in the mood to argue.

"I let them have the day off," he says with a sneer.

"You did what!" I yell drawing attention. Dad pierces his lips.

"Why are you complaining? I did you a favour Jack, I already served them drinks," then he walks off. I sigh and let my shoulders drop as I put on my apron and head off to the first table.

"May I take your order?" I ask putting on my best smile. The man doesn't look up.

"Sir?" I ask hoping to get his attention. The man snaps his head up, glares at me and then looks back down. I walk over to the next table giving him more time.

"May I take your order?" I say dryly.

"Yes, I'll have," The women point to the middle of the menu. I walk to the kitchen. The cook, Aaron smiles at me. I tell him the order and head over to the man.

"Are you ready sir?" I say trying to sound happy. The man just points to the top of the page. I take the menu and practically stomp off. I tell Aaron what the man wanted while leaning against the wall.

"Bad day?" he says intently.

"Ya and working all the sections isn't helping," I say with a frown.

"At least you will get more tips," he says trying to lighten the mood. Before I could answer, Aaron hands me the women's order and I stride over to table 8. The rest of the night goes by slower than usual but I'm happy it's over. I hang up my apron and the second my hand touches the smooth wood of the door my father stops me.

"Where do you think you're going!" he says from behind me.

"Home, the day is over," I say in annoyance.

"Fine," he says with a huff.

I walk out the door and after about a ten-minute walk to my house I find that the door is locked. Typical, dad is always trying to find ways of kicking me out. When I was five my dad shoved me out the door and locked it, it took a while but I finally picked the lock with my finger nails. Ever since then I carry a hair pin in my back pocket. I practice with it a lot, partly for fun and partly for skills.

I put the pin in the lock and start to twist. After a couple of seconds, I hear it click. I swing open the door and take a seat in the living room. I pull a deck of cards out of the drawer and start to practice. I've seen some magicians throw cards, I think I'm pretty good at it. I'm not the best at aiming but I once cut halfway through an apple, I had to carve it out with a knife.

I grabbed my dad's old dart board and started whipping the cards at it. I got a bull's eye and a couple other close ones, one card left. I threw the it with all my might but the door swings open and hit my dad in the face leaving a small cut underneath his eye. I just stood there frozen in shock, he wasn't supposed to be home for a couple hours.

"What the hell are you doing!" my dad yells holding his face. He looks at the cards. "You could have killed me!"

"With a card?" I say braking away from my shock. My dad was fuming and his face turns a bright red.

"This is what you do with your free time, throw cards at my door," I never told my dad that I do magic tricks. It was sort of like a secret, a secret that he would not approve of. I was always afraid of what he'd do to me if he found out, now I have no choice.

"What do you plan to do when you're running the restaurant, entertain people by attacking them with cards!" dad yells. Something in me just snaps.

"Look dad, I don't want to run the restaurant; I never did," I lower my voice. "I want to be a magician." I look up to see my dad walking towards me slowly, when we are a foot away from each other he slaps me hard across the face.

"GO!" I have nothing to argue so I obey and walk up the stairs to my room.

I lay down on my bed staring at the ceiling. I wonder what he's going to do, lower my pay, cut me in the face for revenge, fire me. I wouldn't mind that last one but he already knows I want that. I close my eyes and drift off to sleep.

I wake up to a crackling sound, it was right beside me. My eyes snap open and for a moment all I could see was orange, when my eyes adjust, I notice it is fire. I jump up from my bed and look for a way out, all the walls and door are on fire. the only thing not ablaze is my bed and the window, I run over to jump out but remember that my room is on the second floor. I quickly back away and start to panic, I'm trapped in a burning building.

My eyes start to water and burn. I sit down and lean against my bed. I know I'm going to die either way but I think this is less painful. My mind starts to go fuzzy and I can barely breath. My bed catches fire and I'm forced to stand up. The room starts to swirl and I know I have to do something. I jump out the window and black out on impact.