As we pulled away from the house I had lived in for the past 15 years (we moved there when I was 1), I didn't feel sad. I never considered that house as my home because it never felt that way. Ever since I can remember I had dreamed of moving away from this house, this town, this state, and most times even this country. Well, my dream came true. We're moving to Ireland. For me this is a big deal, because I've always wanted to go there, but to live there just makes it even better. It's also a big deal because my heritage is Irish, and so there is another unique quality that you could say I have is that I kind of have special powers. You could call me a witch. It never completely dawned on my mom that I'm a witch. Even though she came close to catching me many times in mid spell, she never caught on. Would she be mad? I'm not completely sure. In a way you could say it runs in the family. My grandmother was a witch. So you would think my mom would know what I am. My grandmother had tried to get my mother to accept her gift, but she never did. That's the only reason why I think my mom would be angry. My mom had told my grandmother that she wanted to live a normal life, and that's why she would not accept it. Well, of course my dad wasn't exactly happy about my grandmother being a witch and my mom having her powers and all. So my mom removed her powers. Little did she know that I had powers of my own. My grandmother taught me everything I know, but we promised each other that we would not tell anyone, mainly my mom and dad, of my powers.
"Rayne, are you sure you're okay with us moving?" my mom brought me out of my daze.
"Mom, how many times do I have to tell you? I want to move. You know this."
"Okay, I was just making sure." She turned around in her seat so she was facing the windshield.
"What would it matter anyways? We already sold the house." My dad, being his arrogant self, said.
I rolled my eyes and looked back out the window. As we drove out of the neighborhood I grew up in I again thought of how, in a way, it was strange that I wasn't sad. I didn't exactly have friends that I was leaving behind. In school I guess I was considered the quite one. I read all the time, and I was usually too busy with reading or schoolwork to socialize. My mom would get angry with me some times because I'm not "girly". She always wanted me to be the type of daughter who would sit with her and talk on and on about nothing but boys or whatever it is girls talk about with each other, or sit and paint each other's nails. I wouldn't say I'm a complete tomboy, but I'd prefer sweats and a hooded sweatshirt to a skirt and blouse any day. You'll never find me in a skirt. I always wear jeans, even in summer. I usually prefer t-shirts or the occasional sweater in the wintertime, but usually I choose sweatshirts.
I wouldn't say I'm ugly, but I'm definitely not pretty. I guess I'm just average looking. Everything is average except for my eyes. My hair hangs straight down to my mid back, and is very dark brown. In some lights it looks black, but in the sun it looks brown. My eyes on the other hand are gray, or silver rather. How I got silver eyes, I'm not completely sure, because it doesn't run in the family at all. Actually no one in my family has silver eyes, or even gray for that matter. I'm not Hollywood thin, nor am I big. I guess the perfect way to put it is that I'm average. I've never had a boyfriend; I've never even really had a guy friend. I guess I'm kind of shy when it comes to even talking to people in general. I don't really show emotion well; unless I'm blushing over something random. When some one would even say hi to me in the halls at school I would blush. This was rare considering I was usually quite in school, but there was the rare occasion where some one was mocking me or actually trying to be nice. But there was one guy.
okay, so this is the first story i've ever written that i decided to put out for people to read so bare with me if it's not that great. and reviews would be great so you guys can tell me what you think.