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Fiction » Supernatural » Hidden in the Ivy font: B s : A A A . width: full 3/4 1/2
Author: CatScan12
Fiction Rated: T - English - General/Romance - Reviews: 3 - Published: 02-25-07 - Updated: 02-25-07 - id:2325612

A/N:I would like to take this time to give everyone who reads and/or reviews my stories a MEGA FUN TIME COOKIE!!! And to warn everyone I'm comma happy. It's like trigger happy, only no one gets shot, but there is an over abundance of commas. I also have a fondness for italics. And to officially state that Grandma Ida's offensive beliefs are not a reflection on my own. You've been warned.

In this chapter our protagonist has more crap to deal with and new characters are introduced. Yay! On with the story!

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Oh, the joy of life with Grandma Ida. Words couldn't really express. No...wait, I have one. "Painful" worked pretty well. I scraped my fork around my plate making it screech, vaguely hoping the noise would drown out Ida's tirade. Didn't work. I think I should bring up my theory of fate hating me. Plus, there was all of my dear sister's bad karma. These two powers had swirled together making the giant whammy of woe that is Grandma Ida's advice.

"This one, Diane. I don't know how you can call yourself a mother when you let her walk out of this house looking like a whore." I looked up at that. I was the epitome of Little Miss Goth. The black-clothing-every-day verity anyway. Not the slutty-fishnet-and-leather type. So, she couldn't be talking about me. I looked over at Aflaira who had stormed into the house a little bit ago. Just in time for a nice family dinner with me, Diane, and Ida (Dad had to work, go figure). Totally karma. Aflaira was forcibly stabbing her carrots as if she wanted to hear them scream.

What I could see of her face past the curtain of her blonde hair was blank. I knew she was doing her best to actually control her anger since she couldn't do anything about it. There were laws, you see. Since Ida was a blood relative she never had to fear Aflaira turning her evil eye on her. I know what you're thinking. Does "What!?" sum it up? How did I know? Did I somehow gain dazzling psychic powers? No, I know because that was my thought when I found out that charming little rule. Unfortunately, there was a loophole through which my sister could torture me. Since we were identical twins the law didn't apply to me. Had we been fraternal twins I would be safe. But nooo. Think again on my theory.

I flinched horribly when Aflaira suddenly looked at me. I hated when she did that. One second, nothing. The next, angry eyes staring into your soul. "And this one," Ida started as I went back to dragging my fork tines through my gravy. Great. Just ignore the old bat, I thought over and over again. "I think she's on drugs, Diane. Look at her twitching and her eyes are all glazed over. And that black! You need to take her to church! She probably worships the devil. And she's no doubt a dyke-"

"MOM!!" Diane shrieked. "We don't use those kinds of words in this house." Whoa. I don't think I've ever seen my mother mad. I mean, there wasn't really anything in her trophy wife life that caused any real aggravation. But she had worked herself into a right tizzy. She stood and aimed a not very friendly look in Ida's direction. "Mother, if you have nothing nice to say..." She faltered there, taking a deep breathe she forced the rest of the words out. "Then just don't say anything at all."

I interrupted the loaded silence that followed with an awed, "Go, Diane." She sat down as if nothing had happened, but she gave me a small smile before she went back to her special no-carb dinner. Meanwhile, Grandma looked irritated and sulky, but fortunately said nothing else. I knew it wouldn't last long though. I had to endure a few more minutes of silence before Aflaira got up with enough force to knock her chair over. She didn't pause as she ran upstairs.

I was wondering what that was all about when I felt the wards my sister had placed around the house spark to life. They were kinda of magical alarms that detected...well, magic. What else? She never really bothered with 'em since they would go off whenever she did magic in the house. My eye thingy didn't even register. Pathetic, I know. So what was up with the beefed up security? Was she worried about outside magic?

But that was impossible. Aflaira had declared Ivy Ledge her territory and had forced everyone with magic out years ago. My thoughts flicked back to brush of magic I had felt at school. Okay, maybe not. Someone was certainly insane (other than my sister) practicing magic here. Maybe they didn't know? I sighed as I realized I was going to be dumb and try to find the clueless witch before my sister did.

I came back to the present when Diane stood, threw her napkin down, and left with a "Really, mother!". I had missed something. I was enlightened when Ida called after her. "Well, if she is pregnant you can afford the abortion! Not the first I bet!" I groaned as she rounded on me. "Good thing you can't get knocked up like your whore of a sister. But what you're doing is a sin against god."

Not even bothering to make up an excuse, I left, following Aflaira up stairs. As I did I had to pass the god awful family portrait that hung on the wall there. Diane had had it done when I had been ten. She and my father were standing by the fireplace in the living room, Diane looking slightly crazy with her huge smile and my father looking grey and if he was only just keeping from yelling at the painter to hurry it up. Aflaira and I were seated in chairs in front of the 'rents. It was back when Diane had a thing for dressing us exactly alike. Because that's simply adorable and never gets old, right? We were wearing those horrible dresses that were black velvet-topped with huge flowing skirts. Ours were puffy and light blue. The painting had been done when we had looked exactly alike as well. The only one who had been able to tell us apart when we were little was, surprisingly, Diane. Our expressions were totally fake, the painter had slapped them on rather than present Diane with an expensive painting where her kids were looking, bored in my case, and as for Aflaira's...

I remember the picture they had taken as a reference as well as some terribly boring posing. The picture had shown the "I'd rather be anywhere else" that had been clearly written across my face. Aflaira hadn't smiled either but there was just something slightly wrong with her expression. I hadn’t noticed it for what it was when I was little. Then, I had been just as in awe of my perfect big sister as everyone else. She had been my best friend, my protector, and my other half. Now, I knew exactly what it was in her eyes. It was the beginning of the...evil she was now.

A few months after the picture had been taken my shining idea of what my sister was shattered as I was forced to see reality. My sister had changed. She was mean, demanding, and scary as hell. I remember faking being sick so I wouldn't have to play with her. Even then, I couldn't tell her no outright. Diane said it was normal rejection of being exactly alike that had prompted my current appearance. My dyed and straightened hair opposed her golden curls, my penchant for black and combat boots to her preppy attire. Diane was right, but not in the exact way that she meant. It wasn’t just an attempt to “establish my own identity”. I altered my appearance drastically so I could distance myself from Aflaira as much as I could. As much as she would let me.

“Watch out, it’s Malaria!” I only scowled at Erin Drake, one of the Populars, as I passed her. I was used to the name. Which, might I add, was totally devoid of imagination or originality. Just like my sister’s moniker of “Flair”. Dumbtards, I swear. Not that they got to me or anything. Riiight.

I was sitting in homeroom doodling on my notebook as I ignored drone over the PA system about the “vandalism” of the day before. Measures would be taken, nothing was stolen, blah blah blah. It was then I felt another brush of magic. I shivered and sat up straight, looking wildly about the room. I seriously doubted any one of the people in my homeroom had any sort of powers.

It was growing stronger! The presence was becoming more clear. I knew how New Age-y that sounded but that was what it felt like. I could feel the power in my head, but it was full static like I was trying to listen to a badly tuned radio. But it was getting clearer. I involuntarily let out a little exclamation of, “Aha!” when it was perfect causing one or two of my classmates look at me. Then it disappeared as fast as it did yesterday. Damn it to Alabama!

Used to people calling me weird, and hurriedly trying to find the magic again; I didn’t take note of the muttering until a storm of excited whispers started. I realized nearly everyone was looking up front. I knew it wasn’t our teacher, . So I turned and saw a –gasp!- new girl! Ivy Ledge was a small town and the last new person we had was Thom Radmasin in the third grade. So, yeah, a new face was cause for hubbub.

The new girl was really tall. Like 6’1” or something. She had short hair that was, interestingly enough, white. She handed a piece of paper to Mr.W, who in turn pointed to the only empty desk as if she couldn’t see it. She went to her seat, which was one in front and one to the left of my own. As she sat down, looking for all the world as if she couldn’t hear the gossiping whispers that were so obviously about her (an ability I envied), I noticed something strange. Though her eyebrows were brown, the tiny hairs on her arm were white. She dyed those too?

More than a little curious, I brought up, not my purple magic-seeing sight, but a blue one that allowed me to see what people were. Now, I don’t mean like their job or if they were a total jerk or not. Though that would come in handy. This one let me see if someone was just a normal human or something else. For example, if I looked at my sister I would see a sharp-ended S-like design with a dot next to the halfway point on the left side superimposed over her. Though it had been awhile ago. Now, all I would get was a dark smudge. I had no idea if it was some kind of funky witch rune, or language, or whatever, but I knew what it meant. Magic, I guess. Anyway, that squiggly mark meant witch.

Now to see if the vaguely H-like symbol for humans would pop up on the new girl. I looked at her and what do ya know? Werewolf! I was so right! Okay, I didn’t think she was a werewolf per se, but that was just a detail. I knew she wasn’t human. I had a knack for picking them out. I so rule.

Huh? Werewolves….What did I know about them? That they weren’t the crazy monsters who eat everyone in their path like in the movies. They were just people who turned into wolves. Maybe an oversimplification. But it didn’t surprise me to see a werewolf in a high school. It did surprise me that she was in this high school. In Ivy Ledge even. Maybe she hadn’t gotten the memo about Aflaira threatening to kill any magic user/non-human who entered her territory.

I jumped when the new girl turned to look at me with a confused frown. Oh-my-Bob, she felt it! That werewolves could feel magic was something I didn’t know about her kind. Okay, what I said before was all that I knew about her kind. My eyes widened when I realized her eyes weren’t nice normal brown anymore but a weird yellow. I shook away my sight and the creepy yellow eyes went with it. After a cocked eyebrow aimed at me she turned her attention to Erin who was raving about her hair.

By the end of first period I knew three things. One, the new girl’s name was Natalie Stone. Two, she wasn’t the one whose magic I kept feeling. And three, regardless of magical ability (or lack thereof), I did not want my sister to meet her.

Seventh period brought another shocker. After the wolf girl, Natalie, I thought there would be no more surprises for me until Christmas. I was wrong. See, no psychic powers. Since the day before last period got cancelled, I didn’t have the chance to meet the second new kid. Actually, he was the first new kid. But again, just details. If only I had some friends I would have heard about his arrival, but since everyone avoided me like the plague I had been forced to chase stray bits of magic all day. Making me even weirder in some people’s opinion, might I add.

But all that effort could have been saved for something useful like….um….something, if only I had met the new boy the day before. He was so blatantly the source of the foreign magic I was surprised there wasn’t an angry mob yelling to burn at him at the stake. I mean, magic nearly swirled about him in pastel clouds. Though I was reluctant to call him a witch. There was just something odd about his magic. Why in the world hadn’t Aflaira caught up with him? I mean, if it was obvious to me…

Eager to prove my theory right, I switched to the sight I had used of Natalie earlier and…BAM! “Miss Niane, are you alright?” asked worriedly. Worried since I had yelled and covered my eyes for apparently no reason. Though I couldn’t think of a good excuse for my behavior.

I didn’t answer right away since I was freaking out over the fact I was convinced I would be blind for the rest of my life. Which seemed likely on account of the….blinding flash of light that obscured the new boy from my sight. It was like yesterday in the auditorium when I wasn’t expecting my sister’s blazing magic to be in the vicinity. But there was more…attitude behind it. A “Ha, that’s what you get!” vibe. I had a feeling none of my other sights would work on him either. Another kinda-psychic-but-not moment. That is if my eyesight ever came back.

Fortunately, it did. Eyes burning and watering furiously, I managed to mutter something like, “I’m fine.” to How had he foiled my sight? It had never failed me before (my sister didn’t count since she nullify all of them). How dare he? How did he? What was he? The brief puffs of magic I felt before had had the distinct taste of someone not practiced. What the hell!? The new boy was so practiced. He was like right on par with my sister. Total false advertising!

Or maybe it hadn’t been his magic. So, that meant I was back to square one! Perfect! Utterly perfect! Splendid, in fact. One of these days I was going to choke on my own sarcasm.

When I could make out more than blurry shapes, I glared at the new kid. I had a strong inkling he knew exactly what he had done to me. He returned the glare. As if he had any right to be offended! That offended me! Beholden with magics of an unknown nature, yes. An arrogant jerkwad? Yep!

His name, I soon found out, was Arren Amargein. Pronounced, “Are-re-an Aw-veer-an”. How did I know this? Well, pronounced it like any sane person would, you know, “Are-en”. Which caused him to give an overly dramatic sigh and instructed the entire class how to properly pronounce his stupid ridiculous name.

The wolf girl was just fine. Are-re-an, I would like to send back to Santa.

The rest of the class was uneventful. We had to sign a giant get well card for who would be in the hospital for awhile. For the rest of the class we talked about our feelings about the tragic “accident”. I made up some crap as, “I feel really guilty since I did nothing to stop my evil sister from putting a bad whammy on her. And scared since I knew there wasn’t much separating me from a ‘tragic accident’” wouldn’t fly. The only other thing of note was that didn’t even acknowledge Arren nor did anyone else. Which didn’t sound like much but nothing short of magic could stop the gossips when there was new blood in the water.

I was on my way out of class when a truly disturbing thought crossed my mind. It chilled me to the bones and made me stop dead in my tracks in the doorway. The new boy had power, duh. Lots of power. My sister, ever power-hungry would either use him as a tool or partner with him, depending on his exact strength. And then I’d really be dead in my tracks.

Why couldn’t I have been born into some nice normal family? Maybe if I was good all year, good ol’ would bring me a sane family in a box? Somehow, I doubted it. “What’s the hold up Malaria?” I made a rude hang gesture to (football-neck) PJ, who had made the remark, and continued on my way so self-centered impatient people could be on theirs. Childish, sure. But it made me feel better.

“That was very rude.” A silky voice informed me. I jumped and turned like a startled cat. I came this close to hissing, I swear. I came face to face with none other than Arren. Whoa, his eyes were really green. I blinked a couple of times and scowled at the random thought. After a second, I remembered his words. I knew he wasn’t referring to me flipping the bird. No, he was talking about him nearly blinding me for no good reason. And he was calling me rude? Where was justice these days? Down the street passed out in a bar, that’s where! Metaphorically speaking, of course.

“You should learn some manners.” He said before he walked away. I knew a threat when I heard one. He’d better watch his step, that’s all I had to say. Not from me, but from my sister. She, in her evil power-crazed….craziness was weirdly protective of me. She could hurt me but no one else could. Yes, therapy is badly needed, but that’s going to happen anytime soon.

As I watched him swagger off, I longed for the days when the new kids were looked down upon by the school’s social elite and avoided by everyone else. These two not so human people turn up and mess everything up in the process. What was I going to do with them? More importantly, what were they going to do with me?

God, I hate school!



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