The Newest Initiate

5. A Weak Night

"Just Ha-Di it!" Dylan yelled irritably at me. He had started getting grumpy at around 11:15 pm, which was two hours after the last of the lolly-gaggers had left. He was improving, though, he didn't get angry until later. He still got angry, though, which was ten times scarier than the shabti I was facing. When Dylan got mad, his voice was louder than a Banshee's screech, but lower in pitch, so it resembled the screams of the darkest demons. He probably would have been quieter, as to not wake up the initiates, but the room was sound proof so the noise just bounced back at us. 

I pointed my wand at the shabti and spoke the incantation uncertainly, little whisps of magic flew weakly from the tip of my wand, but it didn't reach the shabti, much less do any damage. The teachers always preached that you couldn't do magic unless your mind was wiped clean of all emotion, a blank canvas. That couldn't be truer, from what I had experienced, but how could someone not be full of emotions with Dylan shouting at them? 

"YOU IMBECIL! CAN'T YOU DO ANYTHING?" Dylan stomped toward me and yanked the wand from my hand. He pointed it furiously at the shabti and yelled "Ha-di!" A streak of red shot toward the clay figure, which immediately exploded into a million peices. No matter how mad Dylan was, he could always control his mind enough to do magic. Incredibly powerful magic. I think that was probably the scariest part about him. Normal magicians had to at least take deep breathes and count to ten, and that was a disadvantage. It seemed Dylan didn't have any. He looked at me furiously, closed his eyes and heaved a very heavy, very angry sigh. He lifted his hand and pinched the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache."Go to bed." He said, eyes still closed, hand still on his nose. It would have been foolish not to listen, so I left. I hate to admit this, but as soon as the door hit the frame, I ran. I wanted to put as much distance between Dylan and I as possible. I was scared of him, he was powerful, and I couldn't even do a Ha-Di spell. Nor could I street fight. I was defenseless, and if he ever got angry enough to attack me, I would probably end up running. I could never surrender, but staying and fighting would never be a choice for me. 

I flew up two flights of stairs, passing room after room of sleeping initiates, with lives so easy and exciting, lives so unlike my own.

I had always been average, always overlooked, so I always wanted to be special. Sure, I was nothing wonderful in the mortal world, but in the magician world, I was a dunce. It's almost like I was destined to be disgraceful. My parents would be ashamed.

My parents, I thought. Tears welled in my eyes. I missed them, even if my mother had restrained me. Maybe she knew this would happen, maybe she was just as weak as I am, and knew I would be crushed.

I finally reached my room. I took the key from my robe pocket, pushed it in the keyhole, and turned it. There's another embarassing story. After they defeated Apophis, Sadie and a few magicians she picked as teachers turned their full attention on teaching magic to the initiates. They decided the trainees should be excirsising magic throughout the day, on little things as well as things in their classes. So they took away the keys from initiates who had been there a while, and told them they would be opening their doors with magic from now on. Only the new initiates are given keys, and as soon as they open their door magically once, their key is taken away. I've never opened my door with magic. And so I still have my key.

I walked over to my bed and sat on it, burying my face in my hands. Images flew across my mind: my weak magic, the daydreams I had when I was younger about having strong, steady streams of magic, my mother's face, my key, my father's unexstuingishable look of curiosity, Dylan's angry scowl, my mother telling me her powers brought her nothing but trouble, my mother taking away my car keys, my mother's peircing look as I told her I was leaving...

Tears flooded into my palms and leaked down my arm. I was a disgrace, I was a failure, I was a dunce, I was a disgrace, failure, dunce, disgrace...

The words rotated around in my head, constantly reminding me of my weaknesses, refusing to leave me alone. 'Your parents would be ashamed,' the thoughts told me, 'You should be ashamed.' The last word echoed, leaving the image of the last time I saw my mother swirling around in my mind. I sobbed, it was impossible to tell for how long, but eventually my eyes ran out of tears and and I calmed down. I threw myself on my bed, completely exhausted. I turned on my side and checked the clock. 2:30 am. I sighed and closed my eyes. Then I floated away into a sleep filled with nightmares, although my ba remained in my body, despite the fact that I hadn't used my neck cracking 'pillow'. Even my soul was stripped of magic.