Magic Isn't Always Beautiful

Déjà Vu

Zara and the other people in the elevator waited for the fire department to arrive to force the metal doors open. However, Zara's mind wasn't thinking about escaping. She was confused about what she did. How did her trance come true? What were those blue sparks she created. Zara didn't understand what was going on with her. This has never happened to her. Sure, every so often she would think something was about to happen, and she always thought it was déjà vu

, but now, she isn't so positive about that. But one thing is for certain. She never went into a trance and she never was able to create blue sparks with her hands, or whatever it was that created them.

Zara heard sirens in the distance and they kept coming closer. It could only be the fire department. The people in the elevator heard them and were cheering. They were happy to be alive, not crushed by the impact of the elevator meeting the ground.

The fire department forced a long metal tool through the door and pried it open. Commotion filled the elevator as everyone tried to exit the large metal figure.

"It's a miracle you survived," one of the firefighters said.

Zara nodded and quickly walked away. She was thankful for her life, but was also shaken by what she did. She had no clue what just happened.

It could have been my imagination, Zara thought. Or maybe it wasn't me and just the elevator breaking down.

Somehow, Zara knew that just wasn't the answer. She saw the sparks come out of her fingertips, her trance came true, it wasn't fake. Most of all, it couldn't just have been déjà vu.

Zara raced down the street and back to her father's bakery. She didn't know if her father had heard about the accident or not. Most likely it was the latter, but news traveled fast around Paris.

When she arrived at Slice of Heaven, she entered through the propped open door to see her father behind the counter taking a customer's order. Her father turned and saw her and gave her a small wave. He then went back to focusing on the customer. Clearly, he had no clue what had happened.

When her father finished taking the customer's order and giving the woman her pastry, Zara ran over to the counter.

"Dad, you will not believe what just happened to me!" Zara exclaimed.

'What?" her father asked.

Zara opened her mouth to speak, but hesitated. She wondered of she should tell her father about the unusual things. She didn't know what her dad might think. Zara decided to just tell him the part about the rashing elevator.

"On the way back down from the top of the Eiffel Tower, the elevator fell, I thought I was going to die!"

Her father's face paled, clearly he was in shock.

"But then, for some reason, the elevator just stopped. It was unnatural almost," Zara said, but she knew the truth.

Her father embraced her in a tight hug, clearly relieved. When she looked up, her father was crying.

"Liam Spark, crying?" Zara asked.

"I'm just so thankful you're alive. You could be dead right now, and I would lose the only family I have left," her father sobbed.

"Well, I'm fine aren't I?" Zara said.

"Yes but-"

Zara quickly held up her hand to silence him.

"Shh... Dad, listen, I'm fine. You don't have to fret," said Zara.

Zara absolutely hated seeing her father cry. The only times she had ever seen him cry was when his parents died in a plane crash on their way over to visit them for Christmas. That was an awful holiday, but she didn't want to think about it now.

"I think it's best if I close up the bakery and we get on home," her father said quietly.

Zara watched as her dad walked over to the door, flipped the open sign to close, and beckoned her out the door. She walked out of the building and into the late August sun. She didn't want school to start, but she knew it would start soon. Zara just wanted summer to stay forever.

Zara and her father arrived at their small apartment on Avenue Montaigne. Her father pulled out his key and unlocked the door. They entered their home. Inside, their was pale yellow walls, comfortable sofas, a beautiful kitchen with a granite counter, and a stained oak dining table.

"I'm going to bed, I don't care if it's 4:30, I just need some sleep," Zara said.

"I don't blame you, now go get some rest," her father responded.

Zara walked down her hallway and entered her room. She then proceeded to change into her pajamas and brush her teeth. Once she was ready to sleep, she went over to her bed and pulled back her white blankets. Zara crawled in and drifted into a deep, much needed, sleep.