May 11th, 1994
I sat down at the table of my apartment, watching the news before I had to go for a night shift at The Cave, a bar famous in New York.
Time had changed me. I had matured, abandoning all past remnants of magic that had been instilled in me at birth. My hair had grown out, reaching my back and I fixed it while using my coffee mug as a tiny mirror of my reflection. The tv played as a white noise in the background of my chaotic morning routine.
"A family was massacred in Portland, Oregon last night on May 10th."
Immediately, it grabbed my attention. Judgment clouded my mind, as I tried to piece together what happened to the world's morals in recent years.
"Currently, there is reports of four fatalities and one in critical condition. The family chooses to remain anonymous with the names of each fatality. The oldest brother, known by the name of Malachai Parker, aged 22, is reported as missing at this time."
What?
I glanced, using my full attention to view the television screen, trying to see through the grainy lines of pixels.
"What... the fuck?"
Coincidentally, my telephone phone rings which pulls my attention from the television screen. "Amber?" it's my father, who I hadn't talked with since moving out.
There was a slight disagreement on me abandoning my abilities, which led to the separation of me from my parents. Mother viewed it as a gift to hold with value, while father viewed it as a power to practice for use. I viewed it as a curse. The thought of my parents was a subject I wasn't ready to confront.
His face was on the screen, dragging my attention from my father on the other line. He had grown as well, sporting a bright smile in a christmas photo. A girl, who I assumed was Josette, was blurred directly next to him. He looked... different, but that wasn't what truly caught my attention.
He's missing?
"Amber." my father repeated, drifting me back into the waves of reality and I made a hum noise to alert him of my returning presence in the call.
"The Gemini Coven..." he began, sighing before continuing, "they've suffered a great loss, have you heard?"
I scoffed, "The shit on the national television newscast? No, sorry haven't heard a peep."
"Amber, now's not the time for sarcasm," he quipped me, "they've reached out to me... to you, really, and are asking for assistance in cloaking a certain device."
Why me?
What device?
"Hmm, let me think..." I paused dramatically and exhaled, "no, they can deal with their own shit."
I quickly hung up, leaving the conversation to abruptly end and slammed the phone back into its place.
To say things ended poorly between me and him was an understatement. He practically wanted to disown me, claiming I was a shame to the family.
"Amber, you've been given a gift. A power. Something that should never be abandoned."
My eyes narrowed in fury, "I don't have the same passion for magic as you do. It's something that has been used from me all my life. I'm tired of it." His expression read a look of rage to me and I continued, high off the adrenaline of anger, "I've always been used. Used for every little thing. Practicing all day, sleeping when the suns coming up, missing out on things with my friends."
"I just want to be normal!" I screamed, my own fury causing me to skip a beat in my heart. He said nothing in return.
"Why are you not saying anything?!" I screamed again, pain causing scratches to become the undertone of my voice.
"You have a gift, Amber. You're not normal. You'll never be normal. You abandoning your powers is a disgrace to your family. We've had a long line of strong ancestors before us, tracing back to millennia before. To leave all of this work in a sudden stop? After all those nights you worked and strived to advanc—"
I cut him off and my voice broke, "I'm not a disgrace for wanting to be human... and wanting to be normal." But he looked at me like I'm insane. Like... I'm crazy. Crazy for wanting basic things. He looked at me so condescendingly that after a minute or two, I started to actually believe him.
I don't bother staring back at him, as I turned away and walked into my room.
My mother walks in, a pitiful look on her face.
"Amber, we love you," she starts, but I roll my eyes and cut her off immediately.
"Really? Because the way dad's looking at me, it makes me feel like an absolute fucking stranger in this house." I continue towards my dressers, forcing them open and unhinging them in the process.
"Stop being like this..." her voice is soft, almost pleading with me.
I guess this was my last straw. I stopped clawing at my belongings, silence ensued and interrupted by my intense inhale.
I turned towards her, adrenaline rushing through me and infuriated beyond belief, "Shut the fuck up."
Even my own words shocked me... I was always quiet. Always listening and following directions. People pleasing all the time, like a stray dog. Pathetic.
I wanted a mother who could hold me to sleep, brush my hair, hug my tears away, kiss my cheek to revive my happiness, be my shoulder to lean on, be my mother...
I wanted a mother.
A mother I could trust, never forgetting the way she ran to my father in events of conflict between me and her. A mother who could love me fully.
I snapped back to my current reality...
The gemini coven... four dead?
The clock above my kitchen sink ticked and it shot me out of my daze.
"You left this in the past, Amber," I tried to compose myself, peeling my eyes from the television and onto the clock hanging above my kitchen sink.
9:45
Oh, Shit. I'm gonna be late. I picked myself up from the table and gathered my things in a rush.
-
"Can I get a..." the man pondered for a moment, before meeting my eyes, "New York sour, please?"
This is the sixth night in a row that this man had been here. He had some serious issues, and I was annoyed at his various failed attempts of flirting with me. "Hmm, this is your 10th drink tonight, pal." I flattened my lips, hoping to halt any of his hope that he'd get to me.
He had black hair, sort of styled in a rebellious way... like he had just woke up flawless. The slightest tinge of pink painted his cheeks and god his eyes... need I say more?
I'd really rather had a conversation with the sober version of him, but unfortunately I'm sure that version left about... six hours ago.
Loud music and shouts blocked our conversation to open ears, as he leaned just the slightest bit closer. His blue ice eyes narrow slightly, not in a rude way but more so in a flirtatious way.
"Oh, come on... please?" he smiled drunkenly in my face, with his eyelids seemingly heavy and I hide my distaste for the smell of alcohol swimming from him.
"Take a hint. Get the hell out of here," I immediately tried to shut him down, but he grabbed my arm. My eyebrows furrowed, "Let go of me."
"I'd really like that drink... or if you'd like to let me taste you?" his eyes drifted from our point of contact back to my eyes.
Huh? This is probably the weirdest creep I've seen, which sucks because he truly did seem attractive. I had remained silent, debating whether or not to slap him or just flat out punch him.
He took this as an invitation to continue, "Hmm... I'm sorry, we haven't really gotten to know each other," he feigned politeness, raising one eyebrow, "Damon." He let go of my hand, raising it to offer a handshake with me.
"Fuck you," I turned away to continue cleaning glasses, silently praying he'd just go away and wouldn't make me kick him out.
"Hmm, sounds fun," I heard the smirk in his voice, "when?"
Appalled, I turned back around swiftly. Now, I was just pissed more than anything.
"Has anyone ever told you that you have really nice hair?" he reached to touch a strand hanging by my neck, but I back away.
"Damon," using his name in hopes of warding him off, "go home. Call it a night, bye bye." My voice dripped with annoyance and sarcasm, but I watched as he simply walked away and disappeared into the crowd of people.
I spent the rest of my night preparing for close and cleaning the drink tables.
But I guess I just couldn't focus, because the next thing I knew was that I was heading to the late night campus library. Ironic, considering I kind of deserted any pursuing of education. I had always wanted to work on nursing, something my father frowned upon. Something that included leaving magic.
My heels clicked the sidewalk, trailing through the outside of alleys as I walked to my destination.
A quick breeze brushed past my back, causing me to turn.
Damon.
"Wow, creepy much?" I said dryly, subconsciously putting my guard up and preparing myself to haul ass at the sign of any movement.
"What's wrong with an innocent getting-to-know each other?" he smiled, tilting his head slightly sideways.
"I'm off the clock. Out of the damn bar," I started, a serious tone freezing underneath my voice. "Why are you following me?" I asked bluntly.
"Because you..." he eyes my name tag closely from a distance, "...amber, are someone who can help me with something... special."
My breath hitched, What could you possibly need me for?
"Okay, buddy," my voice failing to show confidence and faltering, "I don't usually help people with revenge agendas on their girlfriends. I'll be going now."
I turned away, in a rush to get away from this stranger. But he beat me to the thought, coming up in front of me in the matter of seconds.
How did he just do that?
Is he a witch too?
God, this was the worst time to be rusty on basic spells, Amber.