A/N: This story is the first one I’ve posted on fictionpress. I have a lot of other story ideas, but none that I’ve managed to write down in a way I like them yet, which is why this is the first you’ve heard of me. (Lots of interesting and inspiring stories just waiting for you to read them and thing, “I wanna write a story!” out there, guys…) Okay, you should know that the main character is female. I don’t think I said so in this, so… yeah… and also, this is only the introduction, and all chapters after this will hopefully be longer.

I first started seeing ghosts when I was five. At the time, I didn’t know it was ghosts I was seeing. For a while, I couldn’t even fully see them. And, I had no idea seeing anything out of the ordinary was out of the ordinary, so I couldn’t have known, anyhow.

The first time that I noticed seeing anything was a fright. I had just returned on the bus from kindergarten, it was my first day of school, and I was in a melancholy mood—rare for a five-year-old, but then again I was never one you’d call ‘typical’. I was walking up the drive, all set to greet my mommy and maybe play with some playdoh, when I saw someone in the garage. It was only a glance, a slight glimpse of substance, and then it was gone. I ran inside and shouted to ‘Mommy’, “someone’s in the garage! Mommy, there’s someone in our garage!” She ran out to check. There was no one there, of course. And that was how it all started.

The next time was in Fifth grade. By that time, the only reason I even remembered the little kindergarten incident was that my friend remembered it. Her name was Morgana. I had equally embarrassing stuff on her, though—she’d kill me if I mentioned it. Forget I even said anything. Morgana means enchantress, and let me tell you, if there ever was one, she’d be the one. She was very good-looking, and had many… shall we say, male admirers. Admittedly, I was a little jealous. She told me once that she’d only be with a guy she truly liked, for his personality mostly, and I think she is right in saying that. (And I can’t be jealous of a girl with a non-existent boyfriend.)

In fifth grade, I was in class slouching on my desk. That’s not to say I don’t like school, or anything, it was just so dull to me that day! I was really spacing out, when I just sort of blinked, and then I could see a man next to my teacher, making the same movements as him, mocking. Immediately I bolted straight in my seat. “What is it, Lorelei?” Morgana whispered to me. “Nothing…” I said under my breath. But this time, I knew I’d seen something.

When I had some free time, I tried. I tried really hard, to get back into the same mood, or mind frame (whatever you want to call it) as I had been when I saw—something. Really, I did think it was a ghost. Actually, this was really gullible of me, because how many people can actually do anything with a ‘sixth sense’? I couldn’t, of course. Or at least my ‘powers’ were very limited. Besides, when I stared at the wall, I couldn’t help thinking things like, ‘why is the wall so lumpy?’ and ‘I wonder what that noise outside is,’ and ‘what’s Morgana doing now?’ It was just really hard. Not that I’m a person who can’t sit still, or anything. I was sitting still. So ha ha to all of you workaholics.

I began to get suspicious. I saw shadows in dark corners, and thought they were what I’d seen. I saw fingers of things going around a corner. I thought I might hear a whisper, and see a symbol. I think it was just my imagination, though.

I would lay in bed at night, thinking, ‘maybe they’re all around me! Maybe there’s something against me! I’m scared!’ But then again, I was pretty imaginative. In the words of my teachers, I was purely inventive! (This isn’t necessarily a good thing.)

And, every once in a while, I would actually see someone. I saw dreary ones and angry ones, people I would’ve mistaken for ordinary had they been fully opaque. I saw a man with an arrow through his head, and a woman in a 16th-century wedding gown.

My history teacher would’ve been proud.

It was in my first year in high school that I tried to talk to one of these people. I had just gotten home, and in my room was a girl with black eyes and a smirk on her face. Trying to keep the sense of steadfastness and unworried things in my head, I asked, “Who are you?”

She gasped, a motion I could only comprehend because of the motions she was making, not a sound. She stared at me. And all at once, she was gone.

Thus went my first magical triumph.

I soon, in a very unlikely and not entirely inconvenient way, learned that my aptitude for magic wasn’t only seeing ghosts, or ‘witch sight’ as I later learned it was called. In fact, I later learned that there were many different kinds of magic. Many of them I had heard of before just through fairytales. Some of these were predicting the future, magician’s work, sorcery, spells that required a focus (most medieval wizards and witches used wands) and spells that could be done with a mere force of will, if yours was strong enough. Most magic users perfect only one sort, or don’t learn any but their own in order to practice theirs more deeply. As I later learned, it requires a lot of magical power to be able to do some, unlike others. Most magic users today are so weak they can only do simple magic. I was not entirely like the typical example in this way.

My aptitude was ghosts, but it was not my only aptitude.

It was too soon when I discovered all about magic. And unfortunately, magic, like other things, has the unfortunate habit of making itself known once you notice it.

A/N: So, did you like it? Any pointers? Please review!