Blood And Birds

Chapter One

The icy air was cool and fresh, with icy winds that nipped bare cheeks. Abby's own cheeks were exposed to the icy climate, but she didn't mind.  A hand-knitted scarf warmed her chin, and ear muffs warmed her neck. Light pink tinged her pale cheeks, and her freckles stood out cutely.

In her mittened hands she held a chilled cup of hot chocolate in a Styrofoam cup. She was finally going to try again. The instances had happened for the past couple years, most out of her control, but she wanted to induce it for once. 

Abby placed the cup on the snow covered table and focused on it. She wanted it to be warmed, even a little, by her influence. The thermometer she had kept in her pocket was placed into the chilled drink, so she would be able to tell whether there was any change. 

After a few moments of uncomfortable glaring, Abby sighed dramatically. She thought it was going to be easy. "Please," she whispered, and tried again.

The chocolate remained maddeningly cold. Colder, even. The first instance of magic Abby could remember was when she had been in fourth grade. Mason White had broken her crayons, and Abby was livid. Those crayons were all her parents could afford to get her for her birthday, and they were all she needed. And they had been broken. 

A deafening shriek emitted from Abby's entire being, one of grief and loss, and then the birds came, by the hundreds, all banging into the glass window Mason sat in front of. Her teacher had warned the kids to stay away from the window, but they all just  huddled closer to watch the birds. Soon tiny cracks started spreading across the glass, and the entire window shattered, splintering everyone with shards of glass. Then in came the fowls, and they pecked and scratched and generally attacked Mason until he was picked clean. Not the best thing to see as a child. 

Mustering up the hate Abby felt then wasn't an option. She was content with her current status, and the old rage had ebbed into an indifference. She sighed. There was also another occasion during the seventh grade in which, after being bullied for her chubby face, she had ran into the bathroom for a good cry. Whilst she sniffled on the toilet seat, that fat on her face and stomach melted off, and dripped onto the floor in a waxy puddle. When asked how she lost so much weight, she claimed it was exercise and a good diet.

Okay, thought Abby, so it's triggered by strong emotion. But she wasn't feeling anything strong, and the drink continued to get colder. She probably could have spend more time on her plan. Let's see another emotion she could feel strong and fast. . . pain? No, she couldn't hurt herself for something she couldn't quite explain. Then she got it. Love. She loved her house, her parents, her dog, and she held on to the warmth she felt when they entered her mind and applied them to the now frozen hot chocolate.

Nothing happened, at first, and then the temperature rose, and the thermometer filled up with red liquid. Elation and excitement joined the love, until the cup was boiling, and the Styrofoam melted. Then all of her emotions shifted to fear, one of the most powerful, and the melted mess set ablaze, catching the wooden table on fire. As her fear grew so did the inferno, until the house she had felt so much love for burned, and it was all her fault.