Chapter One: A Maiden Picks Flowers
Continued
The morning that I discovered the feared king of the goblins had infiltrated my high school, I had eaten toast. My diligent step mother was slowly slicing fruit and preparing cinnamon rolls when I dragged myself downstairs. She had on a pastel pink apron, and her hair was curled to a blonde pile sitting on top of her head. I noticed she was wearing her pearls at 7 o'clock in the morning whilst cooking breakfast, as always, and I knew that I could never truly bond with this woman. Never the less, I plasterer a toothy grin on my face and reluctantly approached her.
"Good morning Sarah." The teeth she flashes at me are bleached white, and for a second I thought they might blind me.
"Good morning." I didn't give the food she was preparing a second glance and slipped a slice of bread into my oh-so- beloved toaster. Sometimes I wonder if I truly do long for a motherly figure and regret the years I've spent resenting my father's wife.
"You know you would be so pretty if you finally gave makeup a try Sarah." Nope. A sigh slipped past my lips as continued to swipe apple butter across the golden brown slice in my hand. When I wore makeup it was to paint a completely new identity onto the canvas of my face, to embody the characters of the stories that never cease to flow through my mind, whispering tales of fantasy and adventure into my ear.
"Well, goodbye." That familiar look of disappointment veiled the woman's delicate features, and I still walked past her, fingering the tiny owl pendant I wore around my neck to distract myself. The moment I opened the front door, a cool wind picked up and wrapped its arms around me, tugging my long dark hair and attempting to rip the scarf from my neck. I gasped, clinging to my books even tighter.
"Sarah? Are you alright in there?" My stepmother called from fort she called her kitchen.
"I'm fine." But I wasn't. Goosebumps swarmed my body and the hairs on my arms and neck stood upright. That wind wasn't just unnatural, it had a life and a magic of its own. My breathing was coming out in short bursts of air, beads of sweat dotted my forehead, and I was digging my nails into my palms hard enough to draw blood. I have felt magic before, like a cold breath that ruffled my hair and brushed against my skin, gentle and playful. The magic that swirled around me in the Labyrinth. This was not that. This wasn't the aura of a realm, but the energy that radiates off of a being. This was a warning.