I'm pretty average by definition: average family, average height, average looks… I'm seriously a little painfully average.

Actually, I just measured myself. I'm a little below average, so screw it. I'm pretty painfully me.

"Me" is a girl that doesn't do a lot after school and doesn't do a lot during school. "Me" is a chick who's got a solid eight friends, a fetish for collecting crap, and a poor grasp of magic. I guess in that sense I'm a little unusual, but its hard to tell who knows magic and who doesn't in today's world. I heard someone in the hall the other day say there's some statistic suggesting about 60% of the world knows magic on some level; and yet, everyone insists on keeping it a secret. Whatever.

I can't say I literally know magic – I've never actually picked up a specialty book or anything – but I can do a thing or two that you probably can't. I can heighten my senses to nit-pick at details – seeing, smelling, touching, you name it. With a little concentration and a deep breath, I can hear a raccoon scurry in the neighbor's garbage at night. Sometimes if I'm lucky, a teacher will place a test's answer key on their desk in front of them and [seemingly] out of range of prying eyes: all I have to do is focus and squint. I'm sure it could actually be of use if I want it to be, and I'm positive it could be used by some squares out there for good or bad or whatever, but for now its helping me get through school. I get up, I go to school, I go home, and I do nothing. That's my schedule, day in and out. Pretty uninteresting if you ask me.

But I'm good at it, this nothing. I can cram a lot of crap into one day if I try hard enough, but the, that requires energy. Most of the time I pass off opportunities like a horse's tail swatting at flies: I couldn't care less.

There's something about opportunities that catch the eye. They light a spark in the heart, and sometimes can seriously take over. Some opportunities become lifelong dedications, and some flicker back out of sight, again like the flies. All I know is, well, hell… nothing much.

But you can't let an opportunity pass you by. Not when you've got the world at your feet.

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Things first changed on a late Tuesday night. My two brothers were home from college for a few weeks (don't ask me why) and Mom insisted that we all sit down to dinner together. Dad had the paper in front of him (again, I don't know why he does this at dinner – I'm pretty dang sure you're supposed to read the news in the morning) and my Mom had the tv on. My brothers weren't keen on conversation, so we sat there and stared at the poorly illuminated screen. Dad put down the papers when the news got serious.

You see, a few years back there was a pretty bad incident in town. I was too young to remember much of it, and it was a pretty fat mess. What I do remember is the massive move to rebuild and to "innovate the younger generation." Whenever its brought up, which it infrequently is, Dad puts the blame on the phone companies. It fits the notion of inspiring kids pretty well, since he ends the conversation every time with a "so when you move into construction since you're failing high school, you'll know not to repeat their mistakes" note. Kinda dick-ish of him if you ask me.

But tonight was different. People were falling all across town to some disease, and the doctors couldn't find a damn nickel on the bug. Not a thing! They pulled apart two unnamed victims to the illness, and even then they couldn't find the cause. That's what this segment is on – the valor of those two, the courage to allow the doctors to dissect their bodies. We're supposed to honor them now, like heroes or something. My second brother huffs, and my Dad folds the paper.

"What? Its not like they expected to find something. Those two died and that's a real stinker, but they're strangers to us. I don't see why we have to-"

I cut him off as I chomp unnecessarily at my broccoli. "Shut up, dickwad."

"Whoa, shots fired." It was my ever-so-slightly older brother who spoke. I glare at him from across the table, and he shrugs. "Just because we dont know someone doesn't mean they don't count for shit." Our eldest brother, the calm one with the glasses and stereotypical nerd demeanor, was the one to shut us both up. "You guys need to quit it. This is serious business, respect that."

My mom nods silently like she always does and always will, head bobbing obediently like the dog she is. Its here that my dad put down the paper. His tight eyes and ass glare at his second son. "Hiro, there is no need for you to speak with so little reguard. Do not speak when you do not know what you're talking about."

"But none of us know whats going on! Who are these reporters anyway? Its not like they understand whats going on – what was the actual cause of death, hmmm? Why don't they show the bodies from anyone? I get it with the dismantled people, but really? Come on, you have to admit that something fishy is going on here. Its clear we aren't getting the full story."
"I agree with you in that sense," our eldest brother again pipes up. "Mother Nature leaves a trail behind when working her magic on us. These are seemingly unassociated events leading to unassociated deaths, even my professors can't tie together a probable cause of all of this."

"Wait, really?" He's going into biomedical something-or-other, I'd imagine the professors in the top university in Japan would catch wind of this situation and slap a label on it. He looks down at me through those damn glasses.

"Yeah. The disease is concentrated in our area only, so we can rule out the food supply as the cause. The freshwater also runs through to neighboring towns, but its not reaching them. It's not the air, since its not contained to a particular region on any means. The way illness works is similar to a mosquito; it leaves a trace or mark, something to signify where it came from." He cups his chin. "But here, nothing has been reported as a cause or significant chink in the armor, if I may use the expression. No one knows whats going on, or who will be impacted next."

"Well," Dad pulls at the pork with his knife. "This area has seen enough devastation. Whatever the cause is, I want it dealt with. We don't need any more crazy around these parts scaring away what little business and tourism we have, it's bad for the economy."

I think if he knew what was coming next, he would have rephrased himself a little bit.

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