Chapter One:

Forks, Washington. Tiny, unimportant, nothing town of Forks, Washington.

That is where I'm headed currently and, as of right now, I am unamused at the prospect. Especially having grown accustomed to big city living being raised in San Francisco. You can probably already tell just how thrilled I am at the move and how much my opinion really mattered in the decision.

Yeah...

Anyways, as I descend further into Hell, I may as well describe the predicament that I've found myself in. The last couple months of my life has been a rather hectic and filled with a surprising amount of spite. See, I've lived my entire life since birth (and, consequently, my mother's death) with my aunts and cousins. They have raised me as one of their own, never have I ever felt like an outcast. Although, we all have one very encompassing thing in common.

We're witches.

Yeah, witches. Now I know what you're thinking; broomsticks, wands, pointy hats, and lots of evil cackling. That is a racist stereotype and I won't stand for that. Okay, maybe not "racist" exactly, but it's still annoying.

Anyways, we are all witches. My aunts, my cousins, and myself. Every last one of us. My aunts were the most powerful witches of all time, until the next generation was born. Phoebe, Paige, and Piper are known as "The Charmed Ones". Very ominous, I know, but they are good witches (like Glenda and) everyone else in my family.

Phoebe is an empath, a seer of sorts (she can see premonitions), and she can levitate about thirty feet off the ground. Paige is half Whitelighter and half witch so her powers fit her accordingly. She can orb, orb objects to her by calling them to her, and she's pretty extraordinary at potion making. Lastly, Piper can freeze and blow up demons or objects using her hands and slow them down. My mother, a former Charmed One before she was killed by a demon the day I was born, was telekinetic and she could astro-project.

Now all of that is a pretty tough act to follow, I assure you, but my powers are far from lacking in the ass-kicking department. I can freeze like my aunt Piper, get premonitions like my aunt Phoebe, and I am telekinetic like my mother. Also I can throw energy balls and have a protective force field.

To sum things up, I am a force to be reckoned with. Now I have far too many cousins to get to now so I'll just stick to the two most important ones, Whyatt and Chris. They are Piper and Leo's boys. Whyatt is the oldest at twenty-one and he is the legendary "Twice Blessed". Whyatt is by far the most powerful witch with ever growing powers that are hard to keep up with. He can orb, he's telekinetic, he can blow some demons up by blinking, he can throw energy balls, he can heal, and has had a force field since conception.

The guy's got talent. That's not to overshadow his nineteen year old brother Chris. Chris is powerful in his own right. He's a great seer, he's telekinetic, an energy ball weilder, he can orb, has premonitions, and undeveloped Elder powers. In other words, don't mess with him.

I miss them. Can you tell? I really do.

Now the reason I'm in this ugly yellow PT Cruiser barreling down the highway towards a town that's barely on the map is because my bastard father decided to show his face for the first time since I was born and get custody of me.

Unlikely? Did I mention that he's a lawyer? Enough said.

He didn't think they were fit to raise me anymore. Raise me? I'm sixteen, how much raising is really left? He knew about magic and resented it. He's tried to get me to give up my powers, my Destiny. He's forbidden me from using them. Like that's really going to make a difference. He's dragging us out here to "keep me safe". Doesn't he realize the farther I am away from my family the more danger I am in?

There was plenty of screaming, mountains of destroyed possessions, and pools of tears. I yelled until I was hoarse and have said nothing since we left for the San Francisco airport.

"We're here." And the silence was broken. I did nothing to acknowledge his existence and remained rooted in the backseat even after he had already gotten out and began unloading what little possessions he packed into the trunk. I peered out of the window lazily and took notice of the moving trucks that must have arrived hours ago, seeing as how they're mostly empty now.

I let my eyes wonder to my own reflection and dissected what I saw. Long, layered, blue hair with short, choppy bangs, big green eyes and dark eyebrows adorned my heart shaped face. I saw a small nose with a hoop piercing on the left side and pale pink lips to go along with my porcelain skin. I stared down at my outfit and realize my high waisted, acid wash jeans and black, cropped and sleeveless Beatles band tee will probably stand out in this crowd.

My aunts always knew I was different, even for being a witch, but they just let me be me. I never got into drugs or drinking or boys. I was more into music and art. My father, however, was little more than disgusted with my looks. I could be so pretty, he told me. Although he quickly realized that "ordering" me to do anything was pointless. He wasn't a real father so I wouldn't respect him as such.

"Hannah, get out of the car," Richard, my "father", demanded sternly. I waved my hand purposely causing him to stumble a bit and let out of string of curses in my direction. "Damn it! What I did tell you about that? None of that freak shit. Now get out of the car."

I gave him a blank stare before soundlessly exiting the vehicle and shuffling towards the front door. The house was quite large for two people, but the bigger the house the more distance I could put between Richard and I. The movers had already brought in and organized all of the furniture so the only thing left to do was search for my bedroom. On the second floor I checked a total of five doors, one bathroom, two closet, and two bedrooms. None of these found home to any of my belongings. Then I spotted one last door. I approached it warily and slowly pushed it open to reveal a set of stairs.

Odd, right?

I climbed without question and what I found was a bit ironic. My bedroom was the attic. The attic. Hilarious, right? I shook my head at the little jokes fate could make and ventured further into my new abode.

It held a new, wooden queen sized bed with matching nightstands, dresser, and wardrobe. Everything was very clean and cliché for a teenage girl's bedroom. The bedding was pink and there were furry, purple and pink throw rugs. I frowned at the lavender walls with yellow painted daisies.

I groaned at how little Richard knew about me. I dumped my bag on the hardwood floors and descended the stairs, casting a disgusted look at my room.

"Hannah, I'm going into to town. Stay in the house, you hear?" Richard's voice was stern and unwavering, but, as usual, I ignored everything he said and left the second his car turned into a tiny, black speck. Our yellow two story house was backed up to a forest that looked like it was bad news, but I ignored that rational part of my brain and walked into the trees feeling carefree for the first time in three months.

The wind blew lazily while the clouds opened and rain began to fall. It was freeing. It was liberating. It reminded me of how home made me feel.

Home.

It was then that the longing started. What am I doing here? Why?

I spent a good two, maybe three, hours out in the wilderness, just meandering about. My sense of direction is pretty keen so I wasn't really worried about getting lost. When dusk hit I made my way back home, snuck in through the back, and silently crept back into my room.

Knowing tomorrow only held the start of mortal school, I decided sleep was probably best.