Hey, so this is my first Witch and Wizard Fanfic, so don't hate it!
Disclaimer: I do not own Witch and Wizard.
They're afraid of us.
Us and our magic.
They're a bunch of cowards. They call us delinquents and criminals; they say that we are afraid of them.
We are the ones they fear. We are the ones with the upper hand. We are the ones with the magic.
My name is Shea Buvayrd. I am a big, bad, scary witch. And I'm only 13.
It's kind of stupid to think that the Council of Ones would go through all this trouble for one girl.
There's more than one.
But let me start from the beginning…
They took me. They took me from my parents in the dead of night. It started a little something like this…
I awake on the couch in the living room. It's three A.M., and apparently I'm the last one up. Being an only child, only my parents rush down the stairs. An eerie flash of blue light emanates from under the curtain, I'm just plain curious, but my parents are scared.
You know how horrifying it is to see your parents scared for reasons you don't even know? If you don't, I envy you.
The people you normally see so calm and reassuring now rush towards you with so much urgency its intriguing. But my parents don't give me time to think such thoughts, my dad picks me up (something he hasn't done since I was nine) and puts me behind him. The doors are shot down and men that look like they're from the SWAT team invade in packs. My dad is screaming at the officers, "You have no right! You can't just come into my home in the middle of the night saying you have orders to kidnap my daughter!" My eyes go wide, Kidnap me? Why would someone want to kidnap me? My mom is standing next to me, crying. Again, all feelings of reassurance they usually acquire is gone.
"Sir," the soldier says to my father, "It is New Order law to contain all witches and or wizards."
Witch? Did he just say witch? So he's going to barge in here and accuse me of being a medieval villain? Still, the man says this as if he sees "witches and wizards" every day.
"Your daughter is allowed one token of home. You may choose whatever you want." My parents shuffle around our home, until my father gasps, "Your lipstick!"
"Lipstick?" I say, unable to believe the one reminder I'll have of home is a thing of lipstick.
My parents can't answer because I'm shoved out the door and into a big metal van. I blow my parents a kiss and wave goodbye, sure I won't see them ever again.
With tears of stone,
I say goodbye,
But I don't want to go.
I repeat this line over and over in my head until a tear rolls down my cheek; it falls to the ground with a pang!
Tears don't pang. I look down and see a tiny piece of stone, in the shape of a teardrop. The realization dawns on me, I turned my tears to stone!
Okay, so, did you like it? I hope so. R&R!