Struck: A Book of The Veil

This is my first upload onto Wattpad, any comments, fans, votes :) or constructive critisism etc. is very much appreciated. Also a new pet peeve of mine, if you like STRUCK please vote for it, us writers have to support eachother, if you say you like it and you genuinly do, Vote! *and... end rant* Cheers!

Chapter 1: first encounter

I was born with a curse, with the ability to see beyond the Veil between realms. From the age of four or five I realized I was able to see Fae of all kinds. The bone-white faces of Vampires, the bright ones belonging to the Faeries and the pearly black eyes and hairy features of the Lycanthropes. Secrecy became a part of my life.

If I were to look for one second too long at their brusque or beautiful faces any one of them would kill me. They feel no sympathy, no mercy; like a hurricane, destroying everything and leaving nothing but devastation in its wake.

            Sitting on my bed, I listened to the sounds of an oncoming storm. I cracked the window an inch, breathing in the scents of fresh rain on grass. A crack of lightning illuminated the window and looking through the water streaked glass, I counted to three before thunder shook the pane. The blackness of the late hour returned, reflecting the soft glow of my grandmother’s jade necklace against my pale chest. Another dagger of lightning made me start and erased every trace of my reflection, leaving me alone.

             A soft knock on my door announced the arrival of my mother, but of course she didn’t wait for my reply before waltzing in. “Hale?”

            “You’re early.” 

             She was still in her nursing uniform. Her long dark hair was piled on top of her head, a few stray pieces dangling down to kiss her shoulders. I’ve been told I’m the spittin’ image of my Mother, but aside from our long dark hair and wide eyes, I don’t quite see the resemblance.

            “I asked to leave early tonight.”

            I rubbed my tired eyes, thankful I had remembered to remove my coloured contacts. Until I was born, violet eyes were hereditary in the family, along with the Sight, which only the first born was cursed with. But of course I had to be the anomaly, an outsider even among the outsiders. Luckily my mother’s eyes can almost pass for a deep blue, so hardly anyone notices the strange color, but I am forced into wearing coloured contacts. My eyes change colour... frequently. My irises are like mood rings, switching shades according to my emotions. I wear deep brown contacts because they’re the only ones that cover my range of chameleon colours, from silver to black and everything in between.

            I sighed, "I wish Nana was here.” I couldn’t help the constant reminder the storms gave me of my Nana, how that stubborn old woman loved the rain.           

            Narrowly avoiding my comment, my mother tried to cheer me up, “I’m on my way up, meet you there?”

            She smiled because she already knew my answer. Every thunderstorm we sat up on the roof under the awning and watched the sky until the storm subsided. It had become a sort of tradition since my Nana’s passing. Now it was only my mother and I, alone in our Sight, sworn to secrecy, only able to confide in each other.

            Most seventeen-year-olds I knew hated their parents or ignored them. Even imagining having that sort of relationship with my mother seemed wrong. We had an understanding, a kind of deal. She wouldn’t interfere in my life if I didn’t dig into hers. As long as my grades were halfway decent and I stayed out of situations that would put me in danger, we would trust each other. This way we never had any reason to lie to one another.