Ever since I was five years old I knew I wanted to stand out. I liked to be the best at everything. You know; the one who the gym teacher complimented for good form, or the kid that was always having their projects kept as an example for future students. That was me.
Like I said, it started at age five. I'd made friends with a particularly talented young reader named Ellie Trenton. She could comprehend literature at the sixth grade reading level. I, on the other hand, could only read at Level Four. All of the kindergarten teachers fawned over her. This extended to Mr. Rapino. He'd been especially fond of my 3rd grade arithmetic skills earlier that year. I became very jealous of the attention Ellie Trenton was receiving. Our friendship didn't last long and neither did her exceedingly fair reading scores. She dropped down to the average kindergarten level within the week. No friendship of mine has lasted since. Striving for the top came with a lot more trouble than I'd originally understood.
By third grade very few of my peers even bothered speaking to me. When group work was involved teachers had to assign someone to collaborate with me; they all knew it was dreadful working with the most competitive little git of a girl in school. I hadn't even noticed my solitude. In my eyes I was exceptionally pretty, impressively bright, and incredibly popular. My ego was as swollen as a nine month pregnant woman. When 4th grade rolled around I'd begun to go by my real name, Medea. Behind my back, however, that became Mad Medea. Stupid and childish if you ask me, but it was cruel. I pretended not to hear the malicious whispers and poisonous stares. Deep down inside it was beginning to take its toll. I couldn't keep diluting the truth. I knew why things had come to the point they had. The worst part of it was the fact that I didn't regret a thing; I still felt a strong sense of superiority over every single kid in my school.
Strange things had begun to happen to the people who spoke ill of me when my back was turned. One 'fell' off of the jungle gym and broke an arm during recess, some split open appendages during Art class, a handful mysteriously came up with bloody knees and elbows with no recollection of an incident that could've caused it and I relished in their pain. I knew that I had something to do with the 'klutziness' of my classmates. I could feel a tug in the pit of my stomach or a tingling in the tips of my fingers whenever an Occurrence was imminent and it made me feel undeniably extraordinary. Although it took a while (nearly half the year) the realization that ailment seemed to befall anyone who dared talk smack about me finally managed to pierce the thick skulls of my class. Around that same time a new girl had joined room 16 B's 4th Grade, much to my dismay, might I add.
Her name was Leona Mara Croga. She made sure people called her Leo. 'Leona sounds like some ancient Egyptian spaz,' she'd whine something like that if you dared call her by her true name. I completely understood. I went by Logan, my middle name, for the first half of my life. Medea was too strange but I'd come to realize it made me more unique. Anyways, Leo was an absolute nightmare. She had this flawless skin totally lacking in the orange splotches of awkwardly shaped freckles that plagued my own face. Her eyes were startling. One was apple green; solid and unchanging. The other seemed like a chameleon. It was always changing to match whatever shade of blue or green or even violet that it picked up on Leo's person. I couldn't help but wish my own; plain mahogany wood brown ones were more interesting, like hers. On top of porcelain skin and hypnotizing eyes she had hair the color of a polished Golden Oak finish. It shimmered with metallic blonde but had grain of deep brown running through it. I will say that I find my own locks to be much more sought after but that's not important right now. Leo is what I need to be telling about.
I had to see her every single day at school and I dreaded it. Everyone liked her and she was good at everything. No matter how hard I studied for the upcoming tests, she'd manage to get 100% while I only got a 99. No matter how much money my mom spent at the craft store to make sure my projects stood out, hers would bedazzle them further.
If I thought my frustration couldn't worsen, I was terribly mistaken. When I realized the house next door to mine; tan with wood crossings all around (Tudor style, that's what my mom called it), had been sold to none other than the Crogas, I knew my life had certainly gone to hell. It'd been on and off the market since as long as I can remember. Nobody ever seemed to live in it long. A couple of months total, with the exception of the Fidels. They had managed two whole years there. I was seven going on eight when they moved in.
The Fidel family always was an interesting bunch. All five of them had the same thin, mousy brown hair and plain blue eyes. I never did learn what Besnik Fidel did for a living. I know that he left the house next door to mine every afternoon at the same time and once I caught him returning in the middle of the night when I'd been roused from my sleep by a nightmare. I'd found the mystery of Mr. Besnik quite intriguing. Fidelia Fidel stayed at home all day with her children. In all there were three Fidel kids: Sabira, Adelah (she usually went by Adel), and Alvie (he usually went by Al). I didn't see much of Sabira, besides the two summers that the Fidel's stayed. During the school year I'd never even caught a glimpse of her. I asked Adel about it once and she told me that when she and Al turned eleven (they were twins) they'd be away during the fall, winter, and spring months as well. It turned out Fidelia taught them from home up until that point and then sent them away to boarding school. Sabira was five years older than us. Out of all the people I've met, Al and Adel had come closest to what I'd consider a friend. We were all the same age, I didn't see them at school, and Al and Adel weren't competitive in the slightest anyways. I woke up on a Saturday in September to find the FOR SALE sign I'd seen too many times driven in to the front lawn. I haven't seen or heard from any of the Fidel's since. I'd decided from that point on that anyone who moved into that house wasn't worth my time. As it turned out, that was especially true for Leo.
Leo was invading every aspect of my life. Well, the two aspects of my life that were in existence: home life and more importantly school life. I was about to pitch myself off of a bridge when June rolled around. The only thing that kept me going was that she wouldn't be lasting much longer in that house. It was cursed or jinxed or whatever.
School had just let out and I was sitting at home, alone, when the Friday post arrived. I sorted through the usual amount of bills and advertisements. That's when I saw it; the letter. It was crinkled a little at the corners of the envelope but the swooping emerald green letters read clear as day:
Medea Logan Nathair
Number 7 Baile Lane
Oxford, England
I rarely got any emails or texts, let alone letters. Eagerly I slit the top and pulled out the thick bundle of parchment it contained. What I read left me sitting on my front porch shaking with fear and shock and happiness all at once. That is how Leo found me on my front porch; rocking back and forth, like a deranged lunatic. I couldn't have been more humiliated.
SO this is next gen. I just wanted to see what reactions it got before I keep on going with it. I do have a relatively strong idea for the plot. Al Sev, James Sirius, Rosie, etc. will be included in coming chapters. I must say that if I do decide to continue it (all depends on you) I can't wait to share the Fidel characters. They're going to be such fun, especially the twins, but not in the same way the Weasley twins were fun. These guys are a whole different group. Please REVIEW! By the way this chapter was rather shorter than I originally intended so expect longer chapters if this is continued :)
