Awakening

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A/N: The original Enchantress will remain as a part of my works, but I will no longer be continuing the sequel to it. I wrote the story a long time ago and can no longer feel connected to the plot line that I created for it. I hope that you enjoy this rewritten version. Some things will remain the same as in the original but there are definitely a lot of changes! Thanks to everyone who supported the original Enchantress, that story will always hold a special place in my heart.

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Do you ever get that feeling...like you were destined for something great?

"That'll be $8.55." The scrawny teenager behind the concession counter told me. $8.55 for a bag of popcorn? I rolled my eyes, but proceeded to hand him my debit card. "Would you like butter with that?" He asked me, his eyes trailing towards my cleavage.

"No thanks." I scoffed, grabbing the bag of popcorn from the countertop.

Do you ever feel like there's something...missing? As if you're supposed to be destined for great things, but instead your doomed to an average life of overpriced popcorn?

Well I feel like that sometimes.

My long blonde locks swayed behind my back as I walked towards the movie theatre. I could feel people staring at me when I walked by. My Mom always told me that I had a special gift for commanding people's attention. Maybe it was my technicolor eyes: one a milky blue and the other a dark forest green. Or maybe it was the tiny scar on my collarbone--barely visible because I had covered it up with makeup--that strangely resembled an "E". Or maybe it was the fact that I was obviously struggling to carry the extra large popcorn in my hands.

Just as I was about to walk through the theater's doors to meet up with my boyfriend, Chase, I felt a weird tingling sensation in my scar. But I shrugged it off. The tingling had been happening a lot lately. Ever since I turned seventeen two months ago, I've been getting these painful sensations from my collarbone. I probably just had to get the scar treated. Maybe it was time I finally removed it. So I pushed through the doors and walked into the darkened theatre.

I met Chase Whitmore in the first grade. Both his parents died in a freak plane crash when he was really young so his grandma raised him. We had always been close growing up. He was the only guy my parents ever let me hang out with. I never really understood why, since he was also the one he that seemed to get into the most trouble. Chase is the kind of guy every girl dreams about. The cute-next-door-neighbor with the dreamy eyes and blonde hair. I never really thought about him romantically until a couple months ago, around the same time my scar started tingling. Once we entered high school Chase and I had drifted apart. Mostly due to the fact that my parent's never let me go to any parties, and also largely due to Chase's charm landing him almost every girl in school.

But then there was the accident. I had managed to sneak out of the house--a rare occurrence--and my parents, being their typical overprotective selves, picked me up to bring me back home. A drunk driver ending up hitting us, killing both my parents upon impact. They left me for dead, and if the paramedics hadn't arrived when they did, I might've been.

That was last summer.

After the accident, Chase started to visit me in the hospital. He visited me every day until I was well enough to return home, and he hasn't left my side since. I never really understood why he picked me. Sure, I knew him better than anyone, but I wouldn't label myself as his "type." Half the girls in the grade are lusting after him, and he chose me--the quiet girl with the strange eyes. He was the only person who really understood what I was going through when my parents died. In a way, our shared tragedy, helped bring us closer.

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