Chapter One

The Sensation of Magic

It was a Thursday in March. I suppose the weather was a bit warmer than usual, but other than that, there was nothing particularly special about the day. My last class had let out, and was waiting in front of the high school building for Caiden. Our family isn’t rolling in cash, so my brother has a car and I don’t. If I guessed correctly, I would be waiting for about fifteen minutes. Caiden’s last class is taught off campus, and he just decided to get gas.

People walked past me, chatting as they left the building. I didn’t pay much attention; I’m not too social. I found a seat on a bench and pulled a book out of my bag to pass the time. I only had two chapters left in this one; I’d get Caiden to take me by the bookstore this evening. We both needed to get a copy of King Lear for English class anyways.

As I was contemplating this, my hands started prickling madly, more precisely the palms of my hands. It was as if I had slapped my hands down on a sheet of static sand paper. I flipped my book over so that it lay open on my lap and rubbed my hand on my jeans. If anything, the sensation grew stronger. I couldn’t help but look down at my palms to see if there was something wrong. I opened and closed my hands, and then twisted my wrists inside and out. Nothing seemed to be the matter, but I could still feel some coarse, prickling texture. The back of my hands felt nothing, my arms felt nothing. It was only my palms, a static-like tickle on the surface of my skin. Then it was gone.

I glanced up to see that most of the students had left campus. I didn’t notice anything interesting or unusual. I reasonably guessed that I had lost a bit of circulation to my hands, an ordinary occurrence that happens time to time. Why it only affected the palms of my hands was beyond me, but certainly not something to worry about. I looked back to my book.

I was half a page into the final chapter before stopping again. This time, I felt as if I had inhaled a bubbly carbonated beverage and it was madly fizzing in the top of my right lung. Clearly, there was no liquid in my lungs, but that didn’t stop my body from trying to get it out. I covered my mouth, coughing painfully hard. The fizzing was spreading slowly, consuming my chest. I found myself doubled over, hacking uncontrollably. I could hardly breathe, and with each cough, I felt worse. I calmed myself for a moment, taking a deep breath. I could feel the fresh air dancing with the mad bubbles in my chest. As soon as my brain processed the sensation, it was creeping outward, consuming the rest of my lungs and heart. I managed another deep breath and my chest settled almost instantly, leaving a soft, warm bubbling sensation.

It felt rather nice… strange, but nice. I rejoiced in the ability to breathe once more. Warmth from my chest traveled up my neck, out my arms, through my abdomen, and down my legs. My heart was beating faster than usual, yet I felt extremely calm. For what seemed like ages, the sensation was all I could think about.

I doubt it lasted more than thirty-seconds before fading. Cold was creeping back up my arms and legs, making me shiver regardless of the weather. My chest fizzled weakly for a moment longer and returned to normal. I closed my book again and waited to feel some other equally strange sensation. Where in the world did something like that come from? Was it even real? Surely, this wasn’t normal. Then again, I’m not normal. Neither is Caiden.

I realized that Caiden was about a block away from the school, so I gathered my things and walked to the edge of the street just as he pulled up in front of me. Caiden and I are twins, and most people can tell that we’re related. Our faces have a similar sort of shape; I would describe it, but I don’t sit in front of the mirror and think of that sort of thing. We have the same light blue eyes, although Caiden has perfect vision while I wear a pair of black rimmed glasses. My hair is blonde, and his is slightly darker, with a tint of red. I keep my hair fairly short for a girl- just long enough to tie back, out of my face. I get distracted by any spare string of hair that falls in my line of vision, so I’d rather not deal with it.

I mentioned that we’re not normal. Gifted- that’s an interesting word of it. For the past four years, I’ve heard every thought that’s happened to pass through his mind, just mind, just as he’s heard every thought of mine. Caiden can dig through my mind and pull up memories I never knew I had. I can dig through his mind and learn anything that he’s learned with the same proficiency in a matter of seconds. Of course, telepathy has its limitations, but that doesn’t make it any more normal. Needless to say, it’s not something we readily tell people about.

I opened the passenger’s side door and dumped my belongings on the floor. Caiden nodded to me, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel in rhythm to the radio. I didn’t say a word to him as I got in the car. For me, talking to Caiden is the equivalent of normal people talking to themselves. I shut the car door, and we were on our way home. My eyes drifted out the window, and I couldn’t help but wonder about that strange feeling I’d had a few minutes before.

You’re imagining it, Kamille was Caiden’s thought. Had the same sort of feeling with it that you give off when you’re day dreaming.

I disregarded his opinion. Absolutely impossible. Too vivid. Why… How in the world could I come up with something like that?

People think they hear things or see things occasionally. He thought.

I was feeling something. People don’t feel random things for minutes on end. And if I was imagining it, what made me cough?

I know, yeah, very weird. But you were imagining it. There was no doubt in Caiden’s mind that he knew exactly what he was talking about. He was sure that he knew me better than I knew myself.

You didn’t feel it, though. If it was only a thought, you would have felt it. You can’t mind-read physical sensations. It’s completely insane, but I know I didn’t imagine it.

You thought that you felt something, but it didn’t come through as processed as feeling something. Like I said, you were imagining it. I felt a spark of annoyance course through me. Caiden was using his third person perspective on my private thoughts to rationalize something he didn’t understand. Come on, I can read your mind. I know you’re imagining it.

A thought occurred to me. It could mean something.I mean, who says this telepathy was the only weird thing that I could do?

Nothing else weird has come up in the past four years. Stop worrying about it. If it means something, it’ll happen again, but I’m sure nothing will happen.

Stupid brother. If it was him, he wouldn’t simply brush this aside. I pursed my lips together, asking myself question after question. Promptly, I was hit straight on with an attitude that said all too clearly I am superior and doomed to be eternally annoyed by you. Now both of us were getting agitated. It tended to happen whenever we had a difference in opinion. Normal people could simply drop the topic of conversation to get along civilly. That’s a bit harder with a telepathic bond.

And you’re going to continue thinking about this daydream of yours for at least another two hours, and then maybe some tomorrow.

“How about a block then?” I asked out loud.

“And make me sick?” replied Caiden. No thanks. Yes- we can block each other’s thoughts out for as long as a day, but if we keep it up too long, we’ll be retching up our guts.

We haven’t used the block all week I thought.

Makes no difference, we’ll still be sick.

I glanced at the clock, which read 4:30. Four hours? I suggested. His resolve on the issue quivered. I made sure to bring up in his mind thoughts of privacy, a true delicacy.

Fine thought Caiden, and slammed a block on his mind. Little did I know, that was the last of his thoughts I’d be hearing for a while.

AN: I've written a fair amount of fanfiction, and I decided to try a bit of something original (something I could potentially get money off of). But anyways, I'd love a bit of feedback.