Danny Flash and the Alien Crash

CHAPTER TWO:

I'm twelve now and magic isn't what it used to be.  I can't get away with silly tricks.  I can't make things disappear and re-appear, when everyone knows where they really are the whole time.  Magic now, is different.  Magic now must be real.  And so, I spend much of my time looking for it; trying to figure it out.  Trying to make it happen. 

            I have a magic wand.  It's not a silly magic wand, like the ones that are bought in a store.  It's not one that came with a magic set, with little rings, and cups and handkerchiefs that are brightly colored and silky to the touch.   It's not one you'd find online.  It's not a magic wand that anyone else would have.  Because it's mymagic wand, and it's special, and I found it, and I made it, and I know it's magical.  I just have to prove it. 

I keep my magic wand in a magic box.  I call it a magic box.  It's actually not a magic box.  It doesn't do anything magical, other than hold my wand.  It doesn't have any special function.  If you open the box, it opens just like any other box, and if you look inside of it, it won't make the magic wand disappear if you're not allowed to touch it.  I wish that it would, but it doesn't.  I should really look at getting a magic box. 

I keep my magic box, in my magic closet...

OKAY! YOU GOT ME!  IT'S NOT REALLY A MAGIC CLOSET!  

It doesn't do anything special.  It hangs my clothes.  I keep my laundry basket in it, so it's where my dirty clothes are also.  They're not magical dirty clothes.  They don't wash themselves, or anything.  But I call it a magic closet, because one day it will do something special.  I know this. I can feel it in my bones.  My magicalbones.  Everything about my room is magical.  It is, because I will it to be.  I know it's a special place.  And I know I'm a special person.  And I know that the one thing that truly is magical in my room, is my wand. 

And so, I keep it locked up, with yes, you guessed it, a magical lock.  The combination is 1-7-19.  I don't mind giving you the combination, because you don't know where I live.  But also, because I know, if you were to pick up my magical wand, it wouldn't be magical at all.  Not for you. It's meant for me.  You could wave my wand around, and say, "Hocus Pocus!" until you're blue in the face.  But if I wave it around, and I say the right combination of words, (a combination I'm still looking for), it will do something magical.  And so, I don't mind if you have the combination, because for you it's just a set of numbers that unlocks a wooden box, which holds a wooden stick, that you might as well use as kindling to keep warm during the winter, because it's not going to do anything magical for you.  But please, don't come to my house, and steal my magic wand, and use it as kindling, because I'm just telling you all of this to make a point. But before we talk anymore about magic, and believe me, I could talk all day about magic, let me tell you about the alien that crashed in the woods behind my house.