Preface

I'd never given much thought to how I would die. Why would I? I had my whole life ahead of me, years and years that I wanted to see through. I wouldn't give that up for anything, not even for someone I loved.

Yes, I wasn't selfless, nope, I was selfish. Maybe it was because I didn't have anyone. No loved ones, no family. I was born in 1992, I don't know the exact date, and my mother died giving birth. Since she came in alone and no one knew who she was, I was sent to live with some other family who wanted a kid. Babies were apparently quickly adopted.

I don't remember my adoptive parents and being quite honest I don't acknowledge that the six years I spent with them even happened. I mean they left me on the side of the street, and I was six, who does that?

Plus, they chose the shadiest, most dangerous street ever. I was six, practically still a toddler. I was lucky though, nothing bad ever happened to me on those streets. I relied on stealing and rummaging in dumpsters for any kind of food. I realized early on that begging for things wasn't going to get me anywhere, because people couldn't be trusted.

I toughened up, and grew up pretty fast. When I was ten years old I figured out that my luck was in fact magic and probably the reason they had left me. That was all my mind could come up with, strange things always happened around me. When it was cold, I was warm, when it rained; I was dry even though I lived outside.

And that wasn't even the weirdest thing, I never ran out of money. I mostly bought things to eat, but I always had enough every single time I went to buy my food instead of stealing it. But my biggest clue that I had powers was when this creepy guy attacked me and with a flick of my wrist I threw him against a wall. I didn't even touch him.

I was terrified after that, of that guy, of myself. I didn't know what had happened, but when it happened again, when I moved the dumpster away from myself without touching it, I was more curious than scared.

So, I went to the library, I had heard people in passing talk about it, it seemed to be the best place to find information. Luckily, before they had abandoned me, they had taught me things, like reading and counting, I had heard them say I was very smart, so I figured I could learn about what was happening to me and hopefully I could learn to control it quickly.

I watched the building for a few hours, watching for a way in. It seemed that people could come in and out as they please, so reluctantly I moved forward. It was easy, but it seemed too easy, I had never been allowed anywhere before because of the way I looked.

I mean I did live on the streets so it wasn't a surprise that I only owned one outfit. This too had come from them. I've had it since I was six, since I was abandoned. It grew with me, probably another side effect of my powers. It was a grey sweater, its color was faded, but it was still mostly intact, and a long pair of jeans, also faded and worn. The only thing I got rid of was the shoes; I preferred to be barefoot because I loved to feel every surface I stepped on.

My short walk into the library rewarded me with stares, all familiar. They were looks I got on a daily basis. Disgust. Pity. Some had questions in their eyes, how did I end up like this? Where was my family? I ignored them just like I did every other time. I didn't trust anyone and I doubt I ever will.

No one stopped me, no one even approached me, and so I walked through the rows and rows of books. I didn't really know what I was looking for, but I read every title, searching for any mention of powers or magic.

I found quite a few. Mostly fiction. I skipped them altogether and instead searched in the history section. There I found stuff about witches and trials, killing girls because they were possessed by the devil. I shook my head, I wasn't possessed. I mean I'd know if I was.

I moved on from that pretty quickly and found myself near the back, with old, almost ancient looking books, or rather papers. They were falling apart and I could obviously see they were in another language, but they were familiar to me.

I still don't understand quite what happened to me on that day, but I grew even more, I just started reading the papers like I've done it a million times before. They were enlightening and even though my ten year old brain should not have understood anything that was written I just knew that I'd always remember every word. Now that I think of it, I feel like those papers were waiting for me to find them. Funny as it sounds, they were made for me.

After that day I found myself. I spent most of my time from then on in the library, I even slept there. It was easy sneaking in after the employees left, there was a window outside covered by some bushes that led to the basement, easy to get into. They also never locked the doors inside the library, and no alarm.

After four years had passed by like nothing, I had read most of the books in the library. I had plenty of time, since I didn't go to school like normal kids, so reading was an escape from an endless nothing.

And since I should have been in school under normal circumstances, I decided to study. The library offered me everything I needed and after I had cleaned myself up more and tried to style my hair, the employees seemed to want to help me.

Knowledge was overflowing in and around me and with the internet as well, I learned almost everything and I couldn't stop. My brain seemed to be a sponge, soaking up everything I read or heard, and I never forgot. I could recite lengthy paragraphs from memory alone. I was only fourteen and already I tested at collage level.

I had my preferences though, like math, I just loved numbers and I loved the challenge of figuring out the answers, which of course, were always right. I also loved biology, especially learning about how the human brain works. It was in this subject that I could see the difference between myself and others.

My brain worked differently, I didn't have definite answers, but I guessed it had something to do with my magic. I had delved deeper into that as well, my abilities grew immensely and I found that I could speak and that I was thinking in the language that was written on those ancient papers. It was Latin.

The one woman I had talked to at the reception had been confused when I had asked her for help. I realized the problem and with ease I switched to talking in English. My mind still thought in Latin, I found it easier. Also I learned that I could perform spells or maybe something similar.

If I spoke in Latin, focusing on the thing I was speaking of, it would happen. I had been reading a book about rare flowers and I had really wanted to see what one looked like for real. As I read its Latin name out loud it just suddenly appeared in my hands.

I was startled at first, but after practicing for hours on end I could conjure anything. Of course since my internet investigations, I had found out about fashion and how to care for myself. So obviously I now dressed exceptionally better.

At nineteen, I was still living in the library, no one ever found out, and I had more knowledge than any other person my age, and I was a witch. I've read all the books in the library, some more than once. I spent most of my time in and around the library, mostly watching people and practicing my powers.

It was on one of these days that I met Marianna Hems, a perky blonde girl, who always wore green shoes and different colored socks. She was two years younger than I was and annoying as all hell. I don't know what happened, I hadn't spoken one word to her, but after two days she was stuck to my side like glue.

She mostly carried the conversation, talking nonstop about school, her friends and her family. I reluctantly allowed her to hang around me, making noises whenever she looked for a response. She didn't seem to care about my silence, simply talking about something else.

She never asked me questions about myself; she didn't even know my name, which isn't really something since I didn't have a name. Years had passed by where we mostly spent time inside the library after she was done with school, reading alongside one another. I found her endearing, she was just always there, smiling and babbling on with her different colored socks. As the years passed by I talked more and more, mostly about her and about what we read, never revealing anything about myself.

She loved romance, and the supernatural and her favorite novel was Twilight by Stephanie Meyer. She spent hours on end talking about Bella and Edward's perfect relationship. I had read the books, and they're relationship was far from perfect. He was controlling, isolated her and insulted her almost daily. That wasn't a relationship, and I've never even been in one before.

Still, I listened as she went on and on about it. I kind of wished that I had said something about the abusive relationship she coveted so much, because after five years of spending time together she had finally found her Edward.

She had been coming to the library less and less, and when she was spending time with me, she always received calls from him, asking where she was. I had commented about it and it was surprising to the both of us, since I never really interfered in her life.

I made a point to ask her every time I saw her how things were going. I didn't like her expression every time her phone rang, and yet she only had praises for her boyfriend, even after she had showed up with bruises on her arms.

I had seen the fear in her eyes, but she simply smiled and we continued reading. It was quiet for a while as I was building up the courage to talk to her about it. But before I could even utter a word, he had stormed in and made his way towards us.

He seemed mad, his attractive face set in a scowl. He was screaming and pulling her away from me. I followed them out into the street intending to stop him, but of course it was too late, I should have helped her sooner.

A knife glistened in his hands, he was crazy, and I couldn't understand why he would want to kill her. I swiftly stepped in front of him as he lunged for her, using my powers to fling him away from us. I felt a sharp pain in my chest and heard Marianna scream.

I reached and pulled out the knife in my chest, falling to the ground as I did. For the first time I felt cold and I couldn't help but laugh as I saw Marianna leaning over me, trying to stop the bleeding. It was too late now though.

Yes, I had never given much thought to how I would die. I was only twenty-four, I had my whole life ahead of me, years and years that I wanted to see through and I didn't want to give that up for anything, not even for someone I loved and yet I died to save Marianna. Why? I never figured out the reason as my vision slowly started to fade.