One

A warm wind flows through the open window of a small cabin, the smell of a storm approaching thick in the air. A clap of thunder and a lightning bolt flashes in the distance, and I cry out, disturbed from my sleep. A woman with dark hair immediately rushes in and strokes back my hair, smiling down at me.

"There, there my angel, I know you don't like the storm but it'll be over soon," she coos, and I reach up from my small trundle bed towards her. My other siblings are asleep, undisturbed by the coming storm. I always woke to the slightest sound. She slides her arms around my waist and hoists me up onto her hip, carrying me out of the dark bedroom and into a larger room where a great fire is roaring. A man is there, tall and blonde, and he comes over to the two of us. He plants a kiss on my forehead and ruffles my hair.

"Is my big girl afraid of the storm?" He teases me and I giggle. A loud clap of thunder sounds and I bury my head into my mother's shoulder.

"It's okay baby, we're here, we'll protect you," she whispers. Another three loud claps come one after another, and I feel her head turn to look towards the door.

"Go put her back in her room," my father is looking warily at the door.

"There's no way they can find us here," my mother says reassuringly. A fourth crash and part of the door is thrown off the hinge. I scream and my mother pushes my face into her and runs back towards my bedroom. She puts me in the bed and smoothes my hair, trying to calm my sobs.

"Baby, please mama needs you to be really quiet okay?" she whispers. Another crash and she rushes back out of the room.

"Leave him be! Don't touch him!" I hear her yell, then a high pitched shriek sounds and a cackle comes soon after.

"You'll never get them," My father yells. The door to our bedroom flies open, and I see for a brief moment a dark haired woman, her eyes piercing like the night. We lock eyes for a moment, then a brilliant white light envelopes the room, and I remember no more.

---

For years, this dream has haunted me, and I've never been able to figure out where it comes from. It used to wake me up screaming and my real mother and father would come running in, turning on the lights to let me know I wasn't alone. They'd sing me back to sleep and make sure my fish nightlight was working properly before going back to their room. Now of course I try to suppress the screaming as I wake up; I'm almost eighteen years old, much too old for my parents to soothe my nightmares. So the morning of my eighteenth birthday when I wake up with the same visions, I did my normal routine; covering my mouth and taking deep breaths to calm my racing heart. It's strange; I had a good streak of not having the nightmare for almost two years, so much that I had almost forgotten about it. Almost being the key word; I could never, ever get the image of locking eyes with that woman out of my head. I involuntarily shudder and toss back the covers. It's still dark outside, but I can see a slight glimmer of a sunrise off in the horizon. The days have grown shorter with the autumn season arriving, but I still get up at the same time every weekday morning for early swim practice and my birthday is no different.

I come downstairs after getting dressed with my bags slung over my shoulders and see a plate of large chocolate chip scones sitting on the kitchen counter, still warm from the oven. I smile; my mom knows it's my favorite breakfast so she must have gotten up extra early to make them fresh. I grab two and munch on one as I walk towards her home office. I can see the blue glow of her computer screen; she's already at work on this big case she's been working on the past week. I reach up to knock when I hear her phone ring and she answers. Her partner in the law firm she works for is in England for business reasons, which must be the reason for her early start. I refrain from disturbing her, knowing that I'll see her at dinner later that night. Polishing off the scone, I walk outside and breathe in the crisp autumn morning air and hop into my car to drive to my high school for practice.

A half hour later, I'm completing laps in the large pool attached to our high schools building. I've been a swimmer for as long as I can remember; I feel at ease in the water, almost more so than when I'm on the ground. My body moves through the water with a fierce determination from one end of the pool to the other. I can let my mind be free of any thoughts or worries, and just be me. When I reach the end of one of my laps, I take a breath and submerge, closing my eyes and treading the water. The sounds of above fall away, a peaceful silence replacing them. I can hear the way the water moves as other swimmers cut through with their propelling arms and their legs kicking behind them. I forget where I am for a moment, entering a peaceful meditative state, allowing my mind to go blank for just a little while.

I don't know how long I stay like this, but suddenly something grabs ahold of my foot and tugs hard. I exhale, allowing a jet of bubbles to spray from my nose and mouth and quickly resurface. Grabbing onto the ledge, I look around for my attacker. When I spot them, I send a splash of water into their face.

"Jax! You know better than to disrupt me when I'm swimming!" I exclaim indignantly as a boy my age grins manically. He swipes his wet hair that fell into his face while underwater behind him and laughs.

"Well technically you were doing some sort of Namaste ritual or something underneath there and I was just checking you were alive Ren," he reasons. I roll my eyes and hoist myself out of the pool. Immediately the sense of vertigo overcomes me and I put my head down on my knees, gently rocking until the feeling passes.

"Have you thought about going to a doctor about that? I don't need you like, passing out after a race one day and me having to dive in heroically after you to save your life," Jax asks me, putting my towel around my shoulders. I rub my palms over my eyes then look up at him.

"What would they do? It's just a momentary rush, it's not a big deal," I say, then change the subject as he opens his mouth again.

"So when am I going to meet this famous Max I keep hearing about?" The mention of his new boyfriend has Jax straying from my "illness" immediately, and as he begins to gush about the funny thing Max said on the phone the other day, I think back to the first time I had met him almost thirteen years ago. We were five years old and enrolled in our first swimming lessons. I remember jumping into the water immediately feeling at home, but Jax had just dipped a toe in, afraid of getting his hair wet. So, I got out of the pool and took him by the hand and waded back in with him. It didn't take him very long with me to get accustomed to the water, and since then not a whole lot has changed. We became the best friends, inseparable to a point where he would accompany me to all girls' slumber parties, much to the protest of several mothers. My parents never minded however, and would argue that while Jax was a boy, he was completely harmless. He was also the one who shortened my full name, Serenity, down to just Ren, after a year of mispronunciations from our class. Now we're in our senior year of high school, training for our last few swim meets and being scouted by coaches for universities, and I never feel like anything will ever change between us, no matter what happens.

"So birthday girl, you're still coming over for our marathon of junk food and sappy movies right?" Jax's pointed question snaps me out of my reminiscence and I laugh.

"Missing that endless pantry of yours and Rom Coms? Never," I confirm and he beams at me. He doesn't know that I know he has been planning a surprise party for me for several months; our friend Maren had spilled the beans accidentally last week and I haven't had the heart to tell him. I stand and remove my swim cap, letting my hair tumble down my back.

"You look fabulous as always," Jax says in a dramatic voice. I laugh and we start walking to the locker rooms. I eye the large analog clock hanging over the doorway.

"I think I have enough time to shower before class starts, I'll see you later," I tell him, and we part ways.

---

I might have gotten too stuck in my thoughts in the shower, and before I know it I'm rushing down the hallway seconds after the late bell, tying my hair up into a sloppy bun and wrenching open the door to my first period class. Luckily, the other students seemed to still be getting settled and I didn't see my teacher anywhere inside.

"Please take your seat Ms. White," I hear a voice behind me and I jump and turn around. My history teacher Mrs. Edmonton is trying to come in the doorway and waves me in. I can feel my face flushing pink and I take a seat near the back corner to keep the attention off myself. She offers me a warm smile and bustles around her desk to begin the days' lesson. Mrs. Edmonton is one of my favorite teachers; she's eccentric, bubbly and radiates whenever she is teaching. I don't think she's ever missed a day of school since I was a freshman, except for two weeks back at the beginning of the semester when one of her relatives across the country passed away unexpectedly.

"Well now that we're all here, let's get todays' lesson started, shall we?" She declares, then turns her back to write something on the whiteboard behind her. I hear a soft hiss to my left and look over to see Maren smile at me.

"Ready for tonight?" she mouths, then gives me a thumbs up. I can't help but chuckle softly. Maren, while perhaps not the brightest bulb in the bunch, always has good intentions at heart. She probably didn't realize with the whirlwind of party ideas, decorations and invitations that Jax had intended to keep the party a surprise from me. Secretly, I am grateful she spilled the beans; normally I take little notice of my appearance when heading over there, but tonight I will be sure to put in some effort. I nod in agreement with her, then turn back to Mrs. Edmonton, who finishes writing on the board with a flourish and turns around.

"Since it's just a week until Halloween, I thought that today's history lesson should be about the different cultures that practice, or at least claim to practice, magic and witchcraft!" she exclaims, looking around at us delightedly. A few laughs rise out of the classroom, then to my amazement a girl sitting in the back raises her hand.

"You mean, like Wiccans or something?" she asks, her voice dripping with disdain. The voice belongs to Amanda Isaac, a new student this year who happens to be dating my former boyfriend. Josh and I had been together since the first week of freshman year. It must have looked odd to others; the handsome running back that made varsity his first year, and the shy bookworm swimmer aren't exactly compatible on paper. Josh however, was a different person than his jock persona portrayed; he was the only person, besides Jax of course, who really understood who I was, and I did really love him. It wasn't until this past summer just after he was named captain that he started acting differently. It was as if the pressure of being the captain had finally made him succumb to the pressure of his teammates, and he became a completely different person. He would come to my house intoxicated, his car parked on the lawn my father worked so hard to maintain, and make a fool of himself in front of my family. The last straw came when he vomited on our front doorstep, just moments before my mother answered the door. She ushered him inside and called his parents while I waited in the living room with him. He was barely able to form a coherent sentence, but kept sneaking his hands up my thigh, making me uncomfortable to be near him. The next day when I went to his house to properly end things, in his anger he struck me hard in the face. While the slap left a shining red mark, the stinging pain was almost a comfort; I know I did the right thing. Josh has tried multiple times to try and win me over with the endless apologies, cards and flowers, but I cannot bring myself to forget the way his attitude changed. Then, when school began Amanda clung to him like a fly on sticky paper. He seemed to forget all about me, which should have been a relief. Seeing him in the halls with his face glued to hers however still bubbled up emotions inside me that I long to push away.

I must look glazed over, because I hear Mrs. Edmonton calling my name.

"Miss White?" she comes over to my desks and stands next to me. I can hear Amanda laugh behind her hands and feel my face and neck burn pink.

"Yes Mrs. Edmonton?" I say, looking up to meet her eyes. She just smiles and walks back to the front of the class.

"Do you know any sort of witchcraft people used to perform Miss White?" she asks me. I think about the question for a moment, and then respond.

"Well, they would curse people they didn't like, or brew potions to make warts and other ailments go away, right?" I answer shyly. To my relief, she nods enthusiastically.

"Very good Miss White, that is true. Basic witchcraft history does tell tales of curses and brews, that sort of thing. But there's just so much more to this fascinating culture." She pauses for dramatic effect, and then continues speaking.

"Now, since we only have an hour to us, we'll talk about one aspect that was important to those who claimed to study witchcraft and sorcery, and that's the power of the elements. The four elements of course are Earth, Air, Fire and Water. The Wiccans would use the four cardinal directions with these elements to create four Watchtowers, which would stand as their guardians while they performed powerful magic. They also invoked the four high archangels Uriel, Michael, Raphael and of course Gabriel, for the Watchtowers protection." Mrs. Edmonton pauses here, a twinkle in her eye. I feel myself leaning forward in my seat, enchanted by what my teacher is saying. I feel a thrill of anticipation, as if I know exactly what she is going to say next.

"Legend has it that the four watchtowers were not just structures, but real beings, humans so powerful that together they would have the power to conquer anything. The guardians mentioned were used to protect these humans from their enemies until they were needed. Until then, they would walk obliviously among us like regular humans, distinguished only by the mark of their element somewhere on their bodies, like a birthmark." Mrs. Edmonton finishes in a dramatic whisper, then lets out a chuckle.

"Of course, this is only a legend, a myth at best! But what a wonderful story it makes doesn't it? Real figures of the elements walking among us with power they don't even know about."

The rest of the class laughs, but I don't pay them any attention. I look down to my left and gently pull up my shirt to look at a small patch of peachy cream skin, darkened by a tiny brown birthmark in the shape of a water droplet. My father always jokes that my birthmark is a clear sign that I was a natural born swimmer, but what if it means something else?

'No, of course not'. I shake my head to clear my mind. 'Serenity White, you're thinking crazy talk,' I think to myself. It must be the lack of sleep the past few nights; I keep waking up in the middle of the night, sweating from a nightmare I just can't remember.

Mrs. Edmonton has gone on to talking about something else, but my attention is wavering. I didn't want her to move on to another topic, so I raise my hand and wait to be called on.

"Yes, Miss White?" Mrs. Edmonton asks, looking at me curiously. I clear my throat before speaking.

"I was wondering, is there anything written down in a book or something anywhere about this legend?" I ask, my voice cracking by the end out of nerves. A nasty chuckle rings out, and I don't even have to turn to know who it is.

"What Serenity, you think cause you're such a good swimmer that you're an all-powerful being or something?" Amanda's voice rings out loudly as she uses my full name. As Mrs. Edmonton reprimands her, I find myself wondering what Josh could possibly see in a girl like Amanda. She was nice looking I suppose, with long dark hair and piercing dark eyes, but she just oozed spite and nastiness. Whenever she sees me in the hall she seems to go out of her way to make a snide comment, or flip my books out of my hands, anything to try to get a reaction out of me. Perhaps he likes her willingness to let him do whatever he wanted with her, but just thinking of that makes my eyes tear up. I look away, feeling shameful that I let myself think of him and her together.

Mrs. Edmonton finishes scolding Amanda with a sharp sniff, then turns back to me with a sympathetic look on her face. As if it isn't enough that Amanda bullies me, the whole school seems to know about it too. I hastily wipe away the tears beginning to drip down my cheeks and manage a smile in her direction, hoping she drops the subject and answers my question. She doesn't press, but gives me a sad smile.

"I'm sorry Miss White, but these stories are only legend passed down by generations of storytelling; any written source of them is long gone." I sit back and take a deep breath, trying to hide my disappointment. The tears have stopped but I still sniffle slightly as I breathe. I hear Kate whispering to one of her cronies gleefully, the ring of satisfaction in her voice makes the blush creep back to my face again.

The bell rings then thankfully, and everyone gets up to leave. As I pass by her desk, Mrs. Edmonton surprises me by reaching out and putting her hand on my arm.

"Don't let her worry you," she whispers, giving my arm a friendly pat, then adds. "Please, if you need someone to talk to, don't hesitate to come find me," I smile. It was strange to have a teacher offer to talk about social problems with me, but at the same time I feel an odd comfort in her words.

"I will, thanks Mrs. Edmonton" I say, and I leave the classroom. Once at my locker, I rest my head against the cool metal and close my eyes, taking deep breaths to try and regain my composure.

"Hey birthday girl-" Jax's voice trails off when he sees my face as he bounds up to me. As Kate brushes by with a sneer, he seems to understand.

"She should crawl back into whatever hole she came out of," he scoffs in her direction, then puts his arm around me.

"Don't worry babe, you're worth twenty of her and that ragamuffin ex of yours combined," he proclaims, squeezing my shoulders and I can't help but feel better.

"Thanks Jax, see you tonight?" I ask.

"Absolutely, we're going to have quite a night birthday girl!" Jax grins and walks away towards his next class. I walk over to my locker and begin twiddling with the combination when I hear someone cooing nearby. Against my better judgment, I look over and see Amanda with her arm firmly nestled in the crook of Josh's. He catches me looking, and whispers something down to Amanda, causing her to shriek with laughter. I sigh and quickly turn my attention back to the contents of my locker. Having to walk the same hallways as Josh is painful enough; recounting any incidents with him always leaves me with what Jax dubs my 'ugly cry' face and the strangest urge to punch through a wall. That's definitely not what I want on my birthday.

The warning bell rings and I shut my locker with a snap. Time for Physics, my least favorite class. I resist the urge to run out of the school and begin to walk towards another boring lecture I can't make heads or tails of. At least today is my birthday and I have the party tonight to look forward to. As I shuffle towards the lab, I give myself a private birthday wish; that I do everything in my power to ensure that this birthday would be different and more spectacular from all the rest.

Reviews

[Fantasywriter1]

I like it. I'll have to read chapter 2.