Having Powers Only Makes Drama More Dangerous

Chapter 1: Ever Had a Staring Contest With a Bird?

Hey guys!

So this is my first ever story I've uploaded on here. I was on another webiste like this for a while and it didn't work out. I decided to try this one and found that it was much more popular, nicer, easier, and just overall better.

This idea came to me (like most of my others) when I was daydreaming. I have a great imagination.

I am in the process of editing this story so I'm sorry if some things don't quite add up, but this chapter is revised and edited!

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Chapter 1: Ever Had a Staring Contest With a Bird?

I lay outside in the grass. The warm early afternoon sun was shining. A soft breeze that I had created kept me from becoming too hot. Closing my eyes, I contemplated falling asleep, but my eyes snapped open when I heard stomping coming from inside the house. I shook my head a bit at my sister's impatience.

Rolling over on my side, I stared at a small dandellion that was poking out of the grass surrounding it. Looking quickly at the screen door at the back of the house, I assured myself that my sister was not about to waltz outside. I turned my attention back to the dandellion and narrowed my eyes slightly, concentrating on letting my powers flow. The dandellion began to grow to an enormous size, about as big as a large plate. I smiled.

The screen door banged open and I whipped around as my thirteen-year old sister stomped out of the house looking angry, her curly dirty blond hair trailing behind her. I quickly snatched the dandelion out of the ground and hid it behind my back, trying not to look like I was hiding something.

“Macey!” Makayla screeched.

“What did I do now?” I asked warily.

My sister and I were complete opposites physically. She had thick, long, curly blonde hair, light skin, and pale blue eyes, all inherited from my modelesque mother. I unluckily inherited my “looks” from my dad, with my tan skin, shoulder length light brown hair, and dark green eyes.

“Look what your dumb cat did!” she said angrily pointing to many tears in her black leotard.

“Austin never scratches anything, Makayla!” I snapped, thinking of my giant orange fluffball of a cat.

“What about dad's recliner?” she retorted. I hesitated.

“He- he's a kitten!” I sputtered out.

“So?!”

“He didn't do it!”

“You owe me a new leotard!”

“I do not!”

“Girls!”

Makalya and I both shut our mouths and looked guiltily at the patio door where our dad was standing with his arms crossed across his chest, his shirt stretched just a little too tightly over his stomach.

“Makayla, there's a spare leotard in your room,” he continued calmly. “You can wear that one to your dance class and we'll buy you a new one tomorrow. Madison, you have to buy Austin a scratching post.”

“What?” I complained.

“He's your cat,” my dad replied cheekily. My sister, looking smug, followed him back into the house.

I sighed and took my large dandelion behind the fence bordering our yard. Making sure that there was no one out and about on the street, I quickly lit a flame on my palm. I fed the dandelion into it and dropped the ashes to the ground, running a stream of water through it to make sure that the grass didn't light on flames.