Heart of Glass

Chapter 1

Ariel Winters grabbed her suitcase from the carousel, tripping backwards as she struggled one handed with its weight.

Her other hand was gripped tightly around a small mahogany box that had once belong to her Grandmother Sophie. It wasn't a special box. There was no value to it. Her Grandmother had used it to keep her favourite diamond necklace safe, and when she died, the necklace and box had been passed onto Ariel. The necklace was now long gone - sold by Ariel's older sister Paige to finance her Mini Cooper which had lasted all of three months before she totaled it. Now, it held something much more valuable to Ariel than any gaudy diamond and she couldn't risk letting it go, even for a second.

The box slipped in her sweaty fingers and she immediately let go of the suitcase, the crashing sound lost in the cacophony of talking people, carousel machinery and overhead speaker systems reminding passengers to declare any food or goods that they were bringing into the country.

"Goddamit!" She gripped the box tightly with both hands, her chest panging sharply with fear.

Unconsciously she rubbed her chest, over a large light brown scar that covered her heart - or at least used to. To anyone who glimpsed the scar, it would have looked like an abnormally large birthmark. The edges appeared pinched and pulled, as if someone had pushed the mark into her skin. Little did they know but that assumption would be right That mark had been seared into her skin two weeks ago - the day a witch had cursed her; ripping out her heart and turning it to glass.

Just thinking of that day made the scar tingle and Ariel rubbed it harder. People were starting to stop and look at her, though she couldn't blame them. Even she would stop and stare at a strange girl sitting on the ground holding an even stranger old box like it was a newborn infant. She got up quickly and pulled her suitcase up, releasing the trolley handle so she could wheel it through the crowd.

The mass of people milling about sent a sliver of nerves down her spine. The exit was still a fair distance away and all it would take was one bump to drop the box and...

No! She shook her head. When did I become such a wimp? She thought. She forced herself to remember why she was here -

Paige.

Anger flared and she squared her shoulders. This was all Paige's fault. She was the one who had forced Ariel to flirt with that strange boy and upset his mother who had apparently been some psycho witch. Once her father had seen what had happened, he had locked her away, revulsion etched in every line of his face while he tried to think of some way to remedy the situation so no news spread of her 'problem'. Trapped in her room, she had been cut off from the outside world. But her sister - had Paige been punished? No! She just laughed at Ariel's misfortunes and carried on with her plastic life or partying and ingratiating herself with the 'people who mattered'. People Ariel had used to think mattered too.

Not anymore.

Using that anger, she pushed her way through the crowds, joining the line of passengers waiting to go through the final checks. Her blonde hair hung in an oily clump atop her head and she brushed away a loose strand that was stuck to her cheek with her shoulder. Two weeks ago, she would have never set foot outside without a clean head of hair that was primped to perfection. Appearances had been everything when you were trying to work your way up the Melbourne popularity circuit. For Ariel, Paige had been her one way ticket. Her sister had already connived her way into several important inner circles, and Ariel had begged her to give her a step up, believing it was her duty as an older sister to give her a hand.

She smiled grimly, seeing herself in the reflection of a screen advertising what to have ready when you reached the front of the queue. Her checkered shirt was crumpled and stained with orange juice that her eight year old neighbor on her first flight had decided was much better suited for her shirt. Her jeans dragged on the ground, too long for her short legs, the edges beginning to fray and covered in dirt from three different airports. If she were at home right now, she would not be allowed near Paige and her precious friends with a hundred foot pole.