Outcast (Original Story)

Chapter Three: Three Idiots in a Dark Closet ~Aylee~

As I walked up the steps to my new school, I didn't know what to expect, but my expectations weren't too high. They never are.

"Don't mess this one up too." I hear Jezabel, my stepmom (if she can even be considered a mother in the first place) shouts back at me, before she disappears through the portal once more.

Oh please. Like you care.

My dad wasn't here, because apparently, he 'couldn't bring himself to'.

He hasn't been able to bring himself to do anything that has to do with me in years.

You see, this isn't the first time I've gone to a new school, and I highly doubt that it will be the last.

After my mom... died two years ago, my dad couldn't cope with the grief. Instead of actually being a good parent, he shut me out. And I haven't had a proper conversation with him since. He lost himself in his work, which isn't that hard considering he's a politician.

Ten months later, he remarried, and I was given a new problem in my life. Jezebel. Let's just say that it's not a positive relationship.

She hated my guts since the moment we met. And trust me, the feeling is mutual. One thing led to another, and after a prank that definitely wasn't my fault and a few words that shouldn't have been spoken with small children around, she made me move schools. Almost every four months or so. And she managed to convince my dad that this was the 'best thing for me' and 'it's better this way'. Now, of course, I didn't last very long at any of the schools because of my 'gifts'. Or, lack thereof.

I looked back up at the towering building, tuning out the other soon-to-be students rushing around me. The thought of my mom crawls back into the front of my mind. She always dreamed of having me go here, and now that I'm 13, I finally can. Whenever I told her that I didn't think I belonged anywhere, she would tell me that I would find my place here. My new home. I never quite got what she meant. I push the thoughts of her away before I can dive any deeper into that jackalope hole.

Being an elf at my age without showing even a sign of power, isn't a good thing. We call elves who aren't born with any magic, Voids, and it's rare but definitely possible. My fingers wander up to my long jet black hair and to where my mother's hair clip is pulling it back. They lightly trace along the edges of the school's crest.

Let's try not to ruin this before it begins.

Both of my mom and dad were Gales, and so is Jezabel, but I know deep down that's not me. I never showed signs of what everyone calls 'wind magic', it's always been nothing. Absolutely nothing.

I have asked my mother before what the smaller points of the symbol stood for, but she just dismissed the question and continued with whatever she was doing. And whenever I did get an answer, she would say that she didn't know–but I knew she was lying. She was an awful liar.

I quickly removed my hand from the clip, afraid that the rest of the memories would come rushing back.

Negative emotions. You're not welcome here.

Today was the Calling ceremony, the long awaited equinox, where everyone can see if I'm worth all of the effort. I wasn't the only one whose life would change today, for better or worse.

My older sister graduated from North Star 3 years ago, and lets just say she was a lot better than I can ever be. Most of the kids follow after their parents with magic, but occasionally they get chosen by a different element. That was my sister, Rebecca. Our parents were Gales, but instead of wind, she got water. I still visit her in her Delta Coast every so often, but my parents practically disowned her when she got her Calling.