Silence.

Pure, nothing, silence.

She didn't like it.

She turned to her nightstand. The clock read 4:46 am.

Monica sighed. Fuck it.

She tossed her blanket over and sat upright. She looked around at her room: a nightstand and desk that would be donated to charity, one wall painted red, her favorite, a curtains less window, some suitcases, and boxes. Many, many, boxes, most labeled in big black letters, DONATE.

She let out a breath. Tomorrow, she would be gone, and she would never come back.

She would make sure of it.

She stood up, slipping into a pair of white slippers as she made her way into the door. She stopped there.

There was nothing unusual about the door, other than its missing handle. It was orange, with painted vines and trees. The door had been like that since the day she was born. The missing part was new

Monica took a deep breath, and placed her hand on it, whispering, "W'peh,"

A flash of blue came from her hand as the plank moved. Monica took her hand off and made her way to the kitchen.

As she did, she passed pictures. Pictures of people, as usual, with smiley faces and hopeful eyes. She stopped at the first one,which was a young boy and girl, identical, from their tawny brown skin and warm hazel eyes. The girl wore a pink leotard, tights, and tutu and she hugged the boy to her face, very tight it looked like, for he looked like might pass out. But he was still smiling, in a blue hockey uniform. Both wore 1st place medals.

She smiled, moving on to the next one. The boy and girl had grown. The only difference was the woman in the photo. She smiled, a much older version of both. Her eyes held a secret to the photographer, like she knew something that the two children didn't. She held an ice cream as she hugged the children to her right.

Monica moved to the next. This time, the boy and girl were not present, just two babies you would have to amuse they were. The woman was younger, and smiled much more as she held the babies. One wore a pink onesie, with the word 'MONICA' in bright blue letters, while the other wore a blue one with pink letters spelling, "MARCUS"

Marcus was crying, while Monica was smiling wide.

"You know why I was crying?"

Monica turned violently, then calmed and gave a reluctant smirk.

The voice belonged to a boy about a foot taller than Monica, with a tall square haircut to go with his strong build. He wore a grey sweater, with a matching pair of sweatpants to go with it. He smirked back, waiting for her to answer.

"No, Marcus. I don't. Why were you?"

"Because I had gotten so used to the idea of being an only child, but then you came along and ruined that dream."

"Come on! You know you love me.."

He rolled his eyes and threw his arm around her. guiding her to the kitchen. "So what do you want to drink? OJ? Coffee?" He threw her a mischievous look. "Maybe some of Micheal's beer?"

"Marcus, we're underage by like five fucking years. No." She sighed. "I'll have a coffee."

"With you jumpyness? Coming right up."

He grabbed a mug from the cabinet and moved to the coffee maker, peering at her at the corner of his eye. "Nervous?"

Monica scoffed. "I don't get nervous."

Marcus chuckled. "Yes, you do, or you won't be up at..." He checked his watch. "...4:53 in the morning."

"I'm not nervous," She shifted in her seat. "I'm just... jittery. And it's not my ADHD."

He raised a brow. "And that's not the same thing?"

She frowned. "I'm serious, Mar. I just...I have a bad feeling."

It was her brother's turn to repeat her action. "What do you mean?"

"It's...it's complicated, OK? I just keep thinking... what if they find out about...you know..." She leaned in, whispering. "The fire thing?"

He scoffed. "They're not going to find out about the fire thing. Some magicians are fire elementalists. The Pharaoh's girlfriend is. Zia, remember? Walt told us about her."

"OK, Marcus, but is she fireproof? Is she? Are any of them?" When he didn't answer, Monica pressed her lips. "Exactly. None of them are. And what about the monsters we've been seeing and fighting? Not normal monsters, like the ones Micheal told us about. What about those?"

Marcus squinted at the jar of coffee grains. "Damn dyslexia. What does that say?"

"Don't ask me, I have it too. Now what about the monsters?"

Marcus gave up on reading the jar and poured an amount he probably shouldn't have poured. "They could be hybrid monsters, like the one we saw on Ford Street last year. It's fine, Ni-"

"And the curse?"

Marcus stopped. He looked her in the eye and said, "For that, we can get killed, Nic. Walt may be good friends with the Pharaoh, but he can't save us from that truth. Grandma and Pa messed with some freaky shit to get Mom and Micheal out of that."

"To get us out of what?" A new voice said.

The twins turned to a middle aged man in a silk robe, frowning at them. He was bald except for a small stubble, and an old -looking book in his hand. He frowned, looking at the twins in the suspicion.

"Uncle Micheal!" Marcus stiffed. Monica had never seen him more nervous around anyone, not even girls that he like, Micheal simply had the effect.

The man looked down at his watch. "It's 5 in the morning. You two have a flight in two hours. Get dressed and let's go." He turned and left without another word.

"Wow," Monica whispered to her brother. "No last goodbye?"

She chuckled, but Marcus stayed, expression stone. He swallowed hard." We should get going." He handed her the mug of coffee and walked out

Monica sighed deeply, taking a seat at the island. Sometimes, she didn't understand what her brother saw in their uncle. He was nothing more than an old crone.

And a murderer. She thought, taking a sip. She spit it out. Too bitter.

She got up and began to walk back to her room when she stopped to look at the pictures.

One picture.

The woman from the previous photo held the girl-Monica- smiled lovingly at the camrea. Monica had tears in her eyes, but had the same face as the woman.

Monica sniffed, and took the picture off the wall. Wish me luck, Mom.

Then she made her way to her room

That't it for the first chapter! Plz commet on anything, questions, or anything else.

-Coco 🍫