The knife flys through the air, lodging its sharp tip into the wood with a soft thud.
The handle extruding from the bullzye of the hand drawn circle that I spray painted onto an old tree.
The orange and purple hues throw light across the morning sky as the sun materializes hesitantly from beyond the mountain. A cool breeze blows past my face, pushing my hair back over my shoulder. The cotton candy pink streaks framing my face.
I know, girly right? But that's the point. It's everything I'm not, yet everything I am.
A few rolls of sweat slide down my face and I lift up my thin shirt to wipe them away.
My heart thumps, pounding from the quick but hard routine I've just pushed myself through.
I push away the stray shorter hairs from my face and redo my ponytail.
I suck in a few deeper breaths and try to control the rage that only fuels the magickal fire. I bend over, putting my hands on my knees and wait a few minutes for the memories to fade.
It's days like this that make controlling the magick that much harder.
Pulling the short intricate throwing knife from my thick pine tree, I close my eyes and let in fall away into small wisps of drifting sand. I glance down, watching in awe as it sinks back into the forest floor.
That feeling never gets old. The hype you get from using that kind of earth magic that sinks into your pores and makes the emotional scars slink away. Not the physical ones. Those are here to stay.
I let the small bundle of energy that I've been holding close to the front of my mind drift back to my centre. Always ready for when I need it.
The soft strands of indigo light swishing around the multicoloured ball of magickal energy that resides in my centre.
Blinking my eyes a few times, I wait for the visible magical high to leave my eyes and I feel them shift back to my normal sky blue colour. I relinquish the feeling of the magick leaving for now.
Heading over to the hollow tree stump, I quickly pull out my watch. I'm definitely willing to do another round if time allows it.
Flicking it over, my eyes automatically widen. Yep, no time for that. If I don't leave in ten minutes, I'm going to be late for my last year of high school. Great.
Exactly what I need right now, I groan silently as I haul my butt from the woods and back to the house.
As the trees flash by, I'm instantly reminded of the way my family flashed by as I left them behind. My father holds up my sobbing mother, who does nothing as I'm dragged away. Silently pleading for them to remember who I am. Not a monster. Not some kind of hideous creature. Not a freak. Just their daughter. Just plain old Ally Stone.
If only they'd done something, I could still be Ally. She was long gone the second my family turned their backs on me.
My feet, and thoughts, grind to a slow as I reach my home. I don't dwell on how pretty the light makes the window panes light up like New Years fireworks. Or Shadow who nickers from the edge of the woods. Mist swirling around her hooves and sparkling as she throws her mane in the air. I just run inside and throw myself into the cold water of the shower.
That damn water just takes too long to adjust, my teeth chatter as I just don’t have the time to wait for the water to warm up. I wrap my soft teal towel around my shivering body and race to my closet. My shadows are already at work, blowing out my dripping hair. The sliding door creaks as I yank out two hangers while trying to hold up my short towel. Screw the school for making us wear a uniform.
I lay out the clothes on the bed while I try to find a hairbrush on my unmade bed. My frown turns into a victorious grin when I find it tucked under a stray pillow.The majority of my hair has dried out already, props to my magick and I quickly brush it out before securing it up high with a plain plack hair tie.
My uniform goes on next, no makeup because I really couldn’t do that every morning and run around for a few minutes to find my boots and jacket from yesterday. I lean over to pull on my boots that fit securely around my calves. While the uniforms may be mandatory, shoes aren’t. Forgoing breakfast I decide to pick up something at lunch instead of making something now and being late.
I quickly head for the door, my bag over my shoulders and my helmet under my arm.
