I woke up to the sound of the front door slamming. Not knowing what time it was other than late, I stared up at my ceiling and listened as I heard my sister bound up the stairs. She didn't bother to hide the fact that she was sneaking into the house. Well, she wasn't really sneaking. She didn't have to. The parental units weren't big on discipline when it came to Aflaira. Which was very instinctual of them since they had no idea what she really was like; yet they feared her. Subconsciously at least. I knew exactly what my darling sister really was. It started with P and ended with sycho.

I held my breath as the footsteps stopped outside of my door. There was a low humorless laugh that made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. Then, the footsteps continued down the hall to her room. I could breathe again when I heard her door shut. Sounds traveled through the silent house from my sister's room. Desk drawers slamming, things falling. She was looking for something. Not wanting to even guess at what it could be, I turned on my side and tried to block out the noises Aflaria was making.

I was awoken sometime later by a more pleasant and equally more annoying noise than my sister coming back from... whatever she did all night; my alarm clock. Erratically waving my hand around searching for the snooze button, I found it only after I managed to knock a bunch of crap off of my nightstand. Which I promptly stepped on once I got out of bed.

Oh, what a joy today was going to be. The sarcasm variably dripping from my thoughts should be noted. Duly noted.

After I had done my morning ritual, I stepped out of my room to be sideswiped by my father. “You should be more careful, dear.” He imparted that little gem of advice in between yelling at his secretary through the cell phone that I was pretty sure he had had surgically attached to his face as he disappeared down the stairs. That grey blur? Yeah, that was Dad. My father’s favorite phrase was time is money. I swear, if they made a talking doll of him that was all it would say. Man, would I feel sorry for whoever got that as a Christmas present; Mr. Alan Niane the toy for all those budding yes men and corporate lackeys. Knowing my luck, I’d get suck with one.

“Sweet, could you go wake your sister?” Was how my mother greeted me upon my entering the kitchen. She wasn’t cooking, god forbid. If that should ever happen either hell would freeze over or everyone in an eight block radius would die of toxic waste exposure. A domestic diva, my mother was not. Though if you took off the domestic part you were closer to the truth. Diane, as she liked to be called since the word “mom” gave her a rash, was just using the kitchen as a way to get to the pool house where she had her own personal tanning bed. Diane was a prime example of what I liked to call Botox Moms. “I think she was up late studying.”

Keep telling yourself that, lady. I thought, trying to gather my resolve for the huge undertaking Diane had so casually handed off to me. “You could learn a thing or two from your sister, Aleria.” Diane called as she disappeared out into the early morning sunshine. Yeah, my parents did a lot of disappearing. It was funny in a humorless way how my parents thought Aflaria did better in school than me. Her high GPA was more of a product of her having charmed all of her teachers into delirium than any studying on her part. And I meant that literally.

Confession time, I guess. My sister and I are witches, believe it or not. No, we don’t wear pointed hats nor do we fly on broomsticks. That would be so uncomfortable, not to mention impractical. So, what do witches really do? All kinds of neat stuff. I, unfortunately, was gypped at birth. My evil twin was bestowed with power that allowed her to do just about anything she set her twisted little black heart on. I, on the other hand, just had the ability to do weird things with my eyes. Nothing remarkable. Like I said, gypped.

When I got to the top of the stairs, all my gathered resolve left me. I deflated like a balloon as I stared at the hallway that led to my sister’s room. Everywhere else was being lit up by the newly risen sun shining in from all the windows. Not the hallway of doom. Just a trick of the light, Aleria, stop overreacting, right? Wrong! I squinted a bit and the feeling of a cool liquid-like lens slipped over my eyes. It wasn’t as unpleasant as it sounded. Besides, I was used to it by now.

Now, there was a purple twinge to everything like I was wearing a pair of those round colored glasses that the hippies wore in the 60’s. Ha, I was right! Take that! All the way through the hallway were orange threads of Aflaira’s power. They criss-crossed back and forth making a net. She had made a net to trap shadows there. I sighed, as I was again confronted with the unfairness of life. I could recognize the spell, but I couldn’t pull it off if my life depended on it.

Speaking of my life depending on impossible things, I had to go wake the beast. Travel through her lair then wake her. Great. I knew today was going to be just honkey-dorey. I shook my head and my magic-seeing sight faded, actually it felt more like it melted. Details. I was just stalling.

Taking a giant breath, I started walking before my mind tried to stop me. I was almost jogging to her room. It was more from fear though. The tiny threads of Aflaira’s magic stung. That was my sister. She just couldn’t resist adding a something extra. Her extra always hurt too. By the time I reached her door, I was breathing harder than necessary and so ready to high tail it out of there. With more than a little hesitance, I raised my fist and knocked on her door.

I waited for a minute that felt like eternity. Nothing. I knocked again, harder this time and wondered when was the last time I had updated my will. Sadly, the answer was three months ago when Aflaira thought I was siphoning off her magic. Turns out it was one of her coven members. I haven’t seen him since then. I doubt anyone else has.

Never mind the fact I couldn’t do any such thing, but if I had wanted magic I would never dare touch my sister’s. She had so much bad karma, if you will, wrapped up in her magic that I was constantly surprised that the house didn’t cave in on us. Or even a random house to come flying out of the sky and land on her. Yeah, that bad. I knew very little about witchcraft since I had no real need or anyone I could ask besides my sister, but the three fold rule was very real. I still had no idea how she got around it.

“What!?” A voice growled. A heat started radiating from the door as if there was a wild fire on the other side. I flinched and backed up. I half turned and started back for the brightly lit landing I could see like some kind of beacon of the normal and sanity. Even as I began to run, I knew I would never make it. I was right. God, I hated being right.

A giant invisible force hit me in the gut like a ton of bricks in a bag. I landed against a wall for a nice double impact then slid to the floor. Amazingly, nothing was broken. I think. I lied there, flat on my bruised back, feeling like I had been run over by some huge all terrain vehicle. Despite the pain of even breathing, I tried to get up. There was no telling what she would do next. I got as far as my knees, before I fell to my hands, gasping for breath. A sharp jabbing pain in my chest made me made me think it was a good idea to change my original assessment of nothing being broken. A rib, maybe two.

As I was trying to breathe in vain, Aflaira’s door opened. No haunted house creaking, which I always expected for some reason. I looked up with a careful expression on my face. When she was in a mood, the tiniest thing could set her off. My sister stood in her open doorway, dressed and ready to go. Her normal bubbly teen personality mask was gone, leaving me to stare into her real eyes. As cold and uncaring as the moon. I had realized long ago that there was nothing left in those eyes. I don’t know what you would call it, a soul maybe. Whatever it was that made someone’s gaze human was missing. Had been missing for a long time.

With a disgusted sigh, she bent and reached out towards me. I flinched, the sudden movement making me cry out in pain, which made Aflaira laugh. As soon as she touched me, heat flooded my body making me scream and writhe on the floor as if I was on fire. I knew without looking that she made sure no one in the house would be able to hear my screams. The unbearable pain lifted and I could focus. Aflaira stood over me with an expecting look on her face. “Well?” She prompted me.

I took a breath and it didn’t hurt. She had healed me. “Um, thanks.” I whispered. Aflaira smiled, not a real smile. Instantly her mask was up and running. She looked as if she had just helped me picking up a pile of books I had dropped, of course. Not that she had just thrown me around like a rag doll and healed me with what I was certain was more pain than necessary.

“You have such good manners, Lil’ Sis.” She emphasized the nickname she knew I hated. “Now, come on, we don’t want to be late.” She continued stepping over me, taking the shadow net with her. Sunshine collected in the hall, bright and piercing, making me squint. “Aleria.” She called in a voice that was closer to her own and not so sickeningly sweet. She didn’t even have to raise her voice. I got up and headed for the front door before I could make her even angrier.

As soon as we parked, I was up and out of the car. It wasn’t bad enough that I had to be in close proximity of my crazy sister, but she had been blaring “Magic Dance” from that one 80’s movie with David Bowie and the Muppets, Labyrinth. Aflaria thought it was funny. I thought it was annoying, but I would put a fork in the toaster and drop the whole thing into the tub with me in it before I said that to her.

“See ya, Sis!” She called after me, I didn’t turn around, knowing it wasn’t for me. Sure enough, Aflaira’s group of popular minions pushed past me to go lick her boots. “It’s sad how Flair’s related to that.” Sandy Michael remarked with a laugh once she was a foot away from me. I just rolled my eyes and took comfort in the fact that they were just pawns in Aflaira’s game. They had no idea that they were worshiping evil incarnate. They all were either blind or incredibly stupid for not seeing it. I was leaning more towards stupid.

The entire day was a blur of boredom and snide remarks from my least favorites teachers about how much better Aflaira is at just about everything than me. But living in my sister’s shadow was better than living with her. Especially when something was bothering her. After sixth period, I knew that this morning was more than usual morning grumpiness.

I ran right into Catherine Millecent’s back when the crowd heading for the door stopped suddenly. I think, I was off in my own little world, hence the running into Catherine. She turned around to glare at me, I only smiled, quiet used to having people pissed at me for existing. I knew asking anyone what the hold up was would just earn me more glares. So, I pushed my way to the door with a few get-out-of-my-ways and move-its. I squeezed under Mr. Sander’s arm as he tried to keep the class inside by acting as a human barricade.

Each and every locker was ripped open like someone had taken a crowbar to them all. Coats, bags, books, paper, and everything else that accumulated in people’s lockers were strewn across the ugly tiles of the hallway. I heard my fellow classmates whispering about thieves. If they would open their eyes, they would have notice that more than one expensive cell phone and MP3 player were among the piles of crap. Someone was looking for a specific something. It reminded me of Aflaira last night. Had she done this? Why? Whatever she was looking for couldn’t be here, at school, right?

In the end, everyone was ushered into the auditorium where we had to sit and wait until Mrs. Tailor, the principal, to call our homeroom class. Together, we had to round up our crap. A perfect end to a perfect day. I was startled from my tired contemplation of the pointy designs I had scribbled all over my notebook by a…wind. Kinda. It felt like a window was open, but the tendrils of wind didn’t touch the other students or ruffle my notebook paper. Magic. I looked around frantically, that wasn’t my sister. Her magic was heat and destruction like fire. Not gentle and searching. Someone else had magic. Someone here. But where!? I focused on bring my magic-seeing sight up.

In an eye blink it was gone. My sight had colored the auditorium purple, but I couldn’t find any spark of magic. What the crap? Had I imagined it? I turned back to face the front of the auditorium to be met with a bright light. I yelled and held my hands to my watering , stinging eyes. Ow, to say the least. I blinked furiously and shook my sight away. When I could see again, there was more than one person looking at me like I was a total freak. “Something in my eye.” I mumbled to no one in particular.

The burst of power I had seen was none other than my sister. Aflaira was speaking to Mrs. Tailor by the stage. She was still doing magic, I could feel it like pieces of straw itching me. I used another of my sights, with a squint I could see them both as if I were standing right there and not sitting all the way in the back of the auditorium. My magic had its moments, but anyone could do this with a pair of binoculars. I looked first at Aflaira, she was smiling and talking, but her brow was furrowed as she concentrated. I turned my attention to Mrs. Tailor. The older woman’s eyes were glassed over and I knew my sister was working a charm on her. I just didn’t know what for.

I was illuminated a few moments later when Mrs. Tailor called me. I had to walk the gauntlet of angry stares from irritated bored teenagers. God, I could wait until I was old and decrepit so I wouldn’t have to be in the proximity of teenagers again. I was one and they still annoyed me. If only I could live long enough to become a bent-backed blue-haired old bitty. Judging from the careful angry look on my sister’s face the probability was becoming smaller every second.

“Aleria, you can go collect your things.” Mrs. Taylor said absently, still a bit out of it. My sister had been heavy handed with the last charm.

“I have your crap, let’s go.” She all but growled, shoving my defaced messenger bag at me, and started for the closest set of doors at a furious pace. Self preservation outweighing pride, I followed like an obedient dog. Aflaira didn’t even look back as if defiance would never occur to me in a hundred years. Sadly, she was right. Arrogant, but right.

With a fast walk, I caught up to her (making sure to keep a little behind her) just as she left the auditorium. “Did you…Did you see what happened?” I stammered. I had tried to make it sound as innocent as possible. Another little thing that set Aflaira off was being accused of things even if she did do them.

She spared me a haughty glare as we reached the doors leading to the student parking lot. “Obviously. I swear, you’re so stupid sometimes. If you weren’t useful…” She let the rest of the ominous threat go unsaid.

“So, it was you…?” Just a tiny bit of question in my voice. Aflaira, who had been scowling at either the sunlight or nature or the direction the wind was blowing for all I knew, stopped, and turned back to me. I wished I had kept my mouth shut. There wasn’t any anger on her face, it was utterly devoid of any emotion. Or at least any emotion that I understood.

“I thought that was you.” She muttered to herself, truly as if I wasn’t standing there. I was standing a bit further away in the next moment when she brought her attention back to me. I could literally see flames reflected in her pale blue eyes. Her hands were clenched into fists and her arms were shaking with the strain. “Who?” She demanded.

I took two panicked steps away from the towering rage that was my sister, hands up in a pleading gesture. “I don’t know. Honestly. I thought you had done it. That you were looking for something.” This was the wrong thing to say.

“Looking for something?” She repeated following my retreating steps, placing her pointy high-heeled shoes exactly where I had put my scuffed combat boots. Aflaira could be unsettling on so many levels. “Where did you hear that? Who told you?”

“I..no one! It just looked…” My voice cut off as I backed up into a car. Out of all the ones in the parking lot I had to run into the one without an annoying alarm?

All was looking bleak when someone called my sister’s name. I nearly melted into a quivering puddle of relief when I saw a gang of Aflaira’s popular play things over her shoulder. They were heading our way. Her way, I guess, since I doubted they registered me at all.

Aflaira’s body began to turn before her head did, or at least that was what it looked like. So, I watched the eerie but mesmerizing sight of her I’m-just-a-normal-teen mask slipping into place. But this wasn’t her bubbly personality version. It was the slightly irritated “aw shucks” one. “Sorry, guys, I have to take the thing home. The parental units are being A-holes.” She said with a regretful sigh that would snatch an Oscar from Meryl Streep so fast her teeth would spin.

Without even waiting to listen to her “friends” sympathetic condolences, she grabbed me by the arm and marched me off to her car. I said nothing as the doors slammed, sealing us in a silence that seemed to grow and become thick and coiling until you could nearly choke on it. I chanced a glance at her. She held one pale manicured hand to her forehead as if she had a headache. But thankfully, he evil glare was focused somewhere between the road and her thoughts.

I started getting worried (again) when she made a sharp left turn. “This isn’t the way home.” Bad feeling intensified when she only replied with a whispered, “I know.” We had driven around the school at Aflaira’s usual break-neck speed. Just where in hell were we going? “Aflaira?” She only laughed.

As happy as it made me that she was no longer glaring fire and brimstone at me, my sister’s laughter and good moods where really just heralds for something bad happening. I had a feeling that it was one of those times. No magic or five-dollars-a-minute psychic required.

Sure enough, there was a loud BAM and people started screaming. I could only stare in dazed horror as I watched , the new English teacher, was hit by a black SUV. The woman was thrown spectacularly into the air, cart wheeled over the car, and landed heavily on the pavement with a sickening crunch.

Aflaira had slowed to watch, but now she sped back up taking the normal route back home. The noise of frantic cried of calling 911 faded away. “Oh, poor .” She said in sickeningly sweet mock concern. “Too bad she had the audacity to bring my GPA down with a ‘D’ I mean, honestly.” The last word brought in the reappearance of her bad tempter.

Though I was still shaken by that unexpected piece of violence, I took in how bad that was. Usually, when my sister did something…well, evil, the “high” lasted for hours. She floated on a cloud of sadistic glee that while as creepy as her towering rages meant she wouldn’t be hurting anyone else for awhile. Or tormenting me. That was always a plus. Whatever it was that had her panties in a twist was the epitome of bad if it could distract her from her “blood gloating” as I liked to call it.

I started as I realized we were home. Aflaira careened around the circular dive making the special white gravel Diane had imported from wherever the hell fly. My door flew open without the aid of any mechanical device. “Out!” Aflaira growled.

I nearly tripped in my hurry to get as far away from my dear old psychopathic sister as I could. Before the door was even shut, she pulled out. I covered my head and ran for the door as the gravel flew again. “Aleria, sweet! Get in here!” I barely had time to register Diane’s relived heavily made-up face before I was being pulled into the house.

“Oh, thank god, you’re here!” Diane whispered, though it looked odd as she seemed to have trouble getting her face to move. I was just about to ask what was wrong when an irritated

yell echoed from the kitchen.

“Will you get that rag away from me!? No talk English, eh? How about INS? Understand that?” Dear sweet, Grandma Ida had come to stay. Loud, racist, rude, and all around unpleasant Grandma Ida. And my evil magically powerful sister seems to have gotten psycho-er.

That’s it. The fates hate me. It would be kinder just to make me spontaneously combust. Really, I preferred it.