Does anyone know why people call the first episode of a show “Pilot”? I'm just going to call this first chapter “Pilot” because the first episode of a show tells you all the background information and that's what I'm going to do here. Why do they call it “Pilot”? I'm going to look that up real quick, be right back.
Okay, I found it! The pilot episode is made on its own as a test for whether a show might work. Then the executives at the network decide if they're going to "pick up" the show. Well, I guess that's what I'm doing here. Let's see if the “network”, hint hint, you guys, like the “show”. Wow, I used a lot of quotation marks. Anyway, to the story!
I once had a normal life. Where instead of worrying about life of death, I worried about schoolwork and friends. I didn't have to worry about why I lost the power I once had, where my mom is or if she's okay. I used to not have to worry about what to do next, but, now, I'm going to tell you my story.
I'm eighteen, so, technically, my story started eighteen years ago, but the interesting part of my story started five years ago, when I was thirteen. That's where I'm going to start, but, first, you need some background.
Most people don't believe in magic and that's what we want, "we" as in witches. There are many types of witches, more than I can remember. The five main ones you need to know are; White, Black, Amateur, Royal, and Shadow.
White Witches have white magic, and if you guys know your fairy tales, you should know they are the good witches. On the other hand, Black Witches have black magic and are evil. Those two types witches are also the two most powerful witches. They kind of remind me of Glinda, the Good Witch of the North and the Wicked Witch of the West. Hey, anyone notice that the good witch actually has a name, while the wicked witch doesn't. Seriously! Why doesn't the wicked witch have a name? Is the wicked witch too ev- wait... I'm writing a story. Where was I? I was talking about the types of witches, right? Well, that's where I'm going to start.
Amatuer Witches are really what their name is, amatuers. They are the witches that still don't have a lot of power, even after their natalis, which I will explain later. Amatuer Witches could be good or bad. As long as they are not very powerful, they are considered Amatuer Witches.
Royal Witches are almost as powerful as White Witches and just as good. Interesting fact, the Royals got the name "Royal Witches" because they were the royal sorceresses back in the Middle Ages.
The last type of witch, I know, finally, right? Anyway, the last type of witch is the Shadow Witch. They are just as powerful as the Royal Witch and just as evil as the Black Witch.
With that out of the way, I can continue this story. Now, do you remember when I told you this story starts when I'm thirteen? Well, in all of witch history, this is the second most important thing, next to the types of witches, of course. If you're a witch, once you turn thirteen you'll get your powers. Well, you don't just get them. It's not like someone just gives them to you. See, when you turn thirteen you're able to tap into your powers. Your thirteenth birthday is known as your natalis. Do you remember that term? Natalis is latin for birthday and us being witches, we embrace the latin language. Now! Let's get to my... well, my... interesting story.
"Bella! Wake up!"
"Ah! What- Where- huh? ... What time is it?"
"About... 11:30. Now, wake up!"
"I went to bed an hour ago. Why would you wake me up now, Mom?"
"Bella! Did you forget?" My mom askes, slightly offended.
"Forget...? Mom, I just woke up. How do you expect my brain to be working right now?" I say, only half-kidding.
"It's your natalis!" My mom shouts in my ear with that mom enthusiasm that teenagers find annoying.
"Mom," I say in a voice people use when they're explaining the obvious, "My natalis is tomorrow. Why would I get up now?"
"It's... tradition?" My mother says, most likely trying to sound sure of herself.
"Tradition? What tradition?" I say, obviously stalling from getting out of bed.
"Just... come on!" says my mom as she drags me out of bed, literally.
"Mom!" I shout as I hit the floor, "Ow!"
"Sorry! Hurry up and get ready. We're going to be late!" She demands, closing my bedroom door.
"What are we going to be late for?" I mutter. Since I couldn't get back to sleep, probably because I was laying on the floor, I got ready as slow as I possibly could without my mom dragging me out the door. Although, as soon as I was ready, she dragged me out the door anyway.
Before I continue, allow me to explain where I live. I live in Salem, Massachusetts, isn't it ironic? Don't cha think? Becky! Get out of my story! Sorry! Becky! Anyway, this "tradition" is supposed to happen in a forest, which I have, in my backyard. Let's get back to the story.
"Let's go!" My mom shouts, practically running out the door
"Where are we going?" I shout after her.
"The forest!"
"What? Why?" I yell, slowing down.
"I'll explain later. Come on!"
After a few more minutes of running, which, I must say, is a long time for someone who just got out of bed, we stop in a huge clearing. There is about fifteen to twenty people in this clearing. I know that these people are all family, I don't know the names of most of them.
Don't you hate it when you talk to someone you should know and you can't remember their name, but they remember yours. It sucks and you always feel so bad afterwards. I'm always like, "Hey... you..." Then, I... got off topic again... sorry guys.
Anyway, everyone has these weird robe type things on. There are three different colors, that clearly meant something, white, royal blue, and green.
Curiosity floods through me, so I look for some answers. I, finally, recognize someone in this crowd of weirdness.
"Madison?" I shout.
"Bella?" Madison askes.
"Hey, my favorite cousin of all time!" I say, cheerfully.
"Hey, Bells! I haven't seen you in ages!" She answers with the same amount of cheerfulness
"So..." I begin to press, immediately seeing a flicker of nervousness in her eyes, "What's going on?"
"Oh! It's... uh... your natalis, obviously..." Madison says, nervous.
"Right..." I say, skeptically, "Then, what's this?" gesturing to the robe. As I do, I notice hers is a deep royal blue. I honestly haven't seen any royal blue like it. It is the darkest royal blue robe than any of the other royal blue robes here.
"It's... traditional natalis wear..."
"Then, how come I don't have one?"
"I... well... you see..." She says, searching for the right sentence.
"Come on, Mads! You can tell me," I say, also searching, but for an answer.
"Fine. Bells-" Mads starts to say, giving up.
"We are now starting the natalis of Bella Crafte. Please, go to your formations!" My grandmother, who had the brightest white robe of anyone here.
"What's going on? Madison, answer me!" I frantically say before she can leave.
"I'm sorry, Bells. I've got to go!" She says, walking backwards.
"Bella, come on." My mom quietly says, pulling me to the center of a circle of people. Then, going to her spot in the formation.
"Everyone get ready to begin!" My grandmother demands. As she said this, everyone holds hands and looks up to the moon, "Countdown to midnight! Three, two, one!"
Then, they start saying... something. It was definitely a different language, but I don't know what language it is. As they were doing... whatever they were doing... something starts happening.
Well, that's chapter 1, obviously, Let me know what you think and I'll post chapter 2 soon.
YOU ARE READING
Cursed
Fantasy"I once had a normal life. Where instead of worrying life or death, I worried about schoolwork and friends. I didn't have to worry about why I lost the power I once had, where my mom is or if she's okay. I used to not have to worry about what to do...
