The man heaved a heavy sigh as he watched his daughter make her way across the bustling quad. The teenagers surrounding her were the typical high school cliche; laughing and flinging unneeded papers into the air as they left the campus to begin the summer holiday. She, however; contradicted the scene with her own demeanor. She walked quickly, books clung fast to her chest and her eyes on her feet.
"Why do you do that?" he asked her after she slunk into the passenger seat of his sedan.
"Do what?" she replied, eyes glued to the book in her lap.
"Act like no one else exists. Why don't you talk to them?" he inquired, gesturing towards her classmates.
She lifted her head and stared at students vacantly. "Because I don't want to. Besides, they don't like me. They all think I set Sydney Wilson's hair on fire."
His eyes widened. "Margarethe! You didn't... did you?"
Maggie scoffed. "No, not intentionally. You know how things happen when I'm around. See, Dad? I stay away from them for their on safety."
The father let out a clipped chuckle. "Please, Margarethe. You're no more dangerous than her," he said, pointing to an old woman shuffling to her mailbox as the pair drove past.
Maggie smiled wryly. "I don't know whether I should be flattered or insulted. And stop calling me that! I prefer Maggie," she added with a familiar frown that always arose at the mention of her full name. After that comment the two settled into a comfortable silence. Maggie fiddled with the stereo and a moment later Buddy Holly leaked from the car's speakers. Her father gave her a small smile and bobbed his head to the beat.
Maggie looked out the window and let her mind wander as she watched the tree-covered hills and emerald soy bean fields zip past her eyes. The shades of green were never-ending and the hills rolled on forever with only occasional grain silo or decrepit farmhouse blemishing the sea of jade. She smiled to herself as she imagined elegant elves lingering in the shadows of the trees, or pixies buzzing in and out of the rows of beans. Admittedly, the countryside always held an air of undiscovered treasure to her.
By the time they reached the narrow roads of their small Tennessee town, Maggie's mind was wrapped in the web of her next story and her fingers itched to feel the pull of ink on paper. Her father's voice pulled her out of her daydreams sharply, like a yoke around her neck being pulled.
"I have to pick up a few things, you need anything?"
Maggie began to nod but then chose to speak instead, "I do need to pick up a new notebook." Once she let her father get her notebooks for her and after his excitement in getting her something had yielded five My Little Pony wide-ruled spiral bounds, Maggie never let him shop for her again. Though she did act ecstatic over the notebooks so as to not harm his feelings. He had been so proud of himself, after all.
They exited the car and made their way into the small drugstore. "Meet up front in five, alright?" her father said before they parted ways. She nodded and then made a beeline for the school supplies. She grabbed what she need quickly (a black, college-ruled composition book) and elected to scan the drinks while she waited for her father. She had just chosen a Diet Coke out of the large cooler when she heard shuffling behind her.
She turned and smiled in spite of herself. Her father was struggling up the isle behind her, trying to balance two large bags of dog food with other groceries held precariously in between them.
"Dad!" Maggie called to him, feigning exasperation. "Here, let me help." He tried to refuse, but she grabbed a bag anyway.
"Now remind me again who wanted the great dane," her dad mused as he gave her a teasing look.
"Hey! Grover is a wonderful dog," she rebuked.
"Uh-huh, sure," he continued to tease as they set their purchases in front of the cashier.
"How y'all doin'?" she chimed through smacks of pink bubblegum.
Maggie's father, ever the gentleman, replied with a smile and a 'fine, thanks, how are you?' while Maggie's smile instantly fell. She clammed up around any and every stranger, so she took to gazing out of window to avoid conversing. Her attention was caught by a white Oldsmobile heading into the parking lot. The speed of the vehicle confused her; the tires spun as the car peeled onto the gray asphalt of the lot.
Maggie knitted her brows in concern and gently tugged on her father's shirt sleeve. "Dad?"
The Oldsmobile was still barreling closer.
"Dad?"
Oh, my God.
The dog food scattered and the soda exploded as the car crashed through the storefront. Her father's look of supreme terror was stamped in her mind as he lunged for her, then everything went black.
Maggie awoken with a start, a pressure on her chest pinning her down. She grimaced and shifted, the weight lifted but it caused a thick liquid to fall into her eyes and blur her vision. She wiped the back of her hand across her face and looked down at her hand, curious as to what fell into her eyes. Her breathe caught in her throat when she realized the substance was blood.
She jerked up quickly, causing her head to jar. Her body felt alive, energy coursed through her veins causing the feeling of tiny shocks all over her skin. With a look around her, she noticed that she was surrounded by rubble. Glass and shards of wood and metal lay in disarray around her. What happened?
She looked to her right and noticed a white car turned upside down, crushing a cash register underneath it. Recognition finally clicked in her mind.
Oh, no.
"Dad? Dad!" she yelled desperately, beginning to fling bits of rubble behind her in an attempt to find him. Her skin was still buzzing with energy and her fingers felt searingly hot.
"Oh, God. Where are you?" she whispered, continuing to scatter rubble. Suddenly Maggie heard a groan from behind her.
"Dad!" she yelled and crawled over to the source of the noise. "Are you there?" she called into the pile as she moved bits of debris away. Finally Maggie saw bottle-blond hair from under the dust. She had unearthed the cashier, but her father was still nowhere to be found.
"Are you okay?" she asked the woman as she helped her into sitting position.
The woman held her hand to a gash on her forehead and she stared off with glazed expression, but nodded. "They didn't even slow down..." she mumbled emptily.
Maggie grasped her shoulders and the woman yelped. "You're burning..." she said in the same empty tone as she looked at Maggie. "What pretty eyes," she sighed.
"Have you seen my father?" Maggie urged.
The woman's eyes went wide and then she lifted her arm and pointed to the isle beside her. "It hit... so much blood."
Maggie groaned and clamored over to where the woman pointed. Her father lay in a bloody heap before her.
"Dad?" she asked shakily. "Dad, are you awake?" she continued as she gently rolled him over.
Bile rose in her throat from what she saw. Her father was nearly unrecognizable, his face was marred by cuts and charred skin and his eyes stared, unseeing, up at her. There were tire marks on his shirt and arms and his chest caved in at an awkward angle.
"Oh, God. No. NO!" she screeched, the energy building within her until she felt like she was on fire. She let go of her father's corpse and rose to her feet, moving towards the car. She looked down at her clenched fists, patterns of dazzling orange flames licked up from her skin. Anger gnawed like rabid dogs in her stomach.
When she reached the car she grasped the door, jerking it off of its hinges and flinging it across the store. How did she do that?
"You did this!" she bellowed to the drunken man in the car. He lolled his head to look at her with wide and addled eyes.
"Wha-"
Maggie took a firm grip of his shirt and jerked him out of the driver's seat. The man howled in pain.
"Le' me go, get off! You're burning me... you're on fire! Your skin is on fire!" he yelled in disbelief as he looked at Maggie's blazing hands. By now her whole body had been engulfed by the flames and her molten amber eyes were filled with rage.
"You killed my father!" she boomed and let the man go momentarily, only to catch him again midair, her hand grasped his throat. The man wheezed as he breathed in fire; it scorched his lungs and windpipe without mercy.
"Wha-what are y-y," the man began, but his last breathe wasn't sufficient enough to finish the sentence. His body went limp and Maggie slammed it into the ground, denting the tile beneath. She let out another anguished cry as fire engulfed the small store. She didn't notice the arrow zipping toward her chest until it pierced her. She yelped in surprise before going unconscious. Maggie fell to the ground and her body ceased to burn.
an: whoa, two updates in one day is definitely a first for me. wasn't gonna stop there but eh, this felt like a good ending for the chapter. have no idea when three will roll around, prolly sometime next week! until then, whatcha think?
and some of you may notice that my oc's name has changed. i'll explain this right quick. i originally picked astrid, cause you know, it has norwegian origins. turns out everyone else thought the same thing. i decided to keep in line with the norwegian theme, but i changed it to margarethe. it's their version of the greek word for pearl. fun fact for you, i guess. okay i'll stop now 'cause i know i'm rambling.