In all the years that the Halliwell line existed, the one that owns the house has no powers whatsoever. Period. The powers skipped me and went to my five year old daughter who can objects freeze like her namesake.

I'm not that upset. It has reduced the amount of stress I deal with on a daily basis. The last demon that attacked arrived when I was fifteen, and my mother vanquished him without batting an eye. Other than the significance of the house itself and no nexus, I haven't had to worry about any attacks.

Looking at the house, you'd never thought it was twenty-second century. The house has been preserved by magic, but also the San Francisco historical society as a turn of the century Victorian house. The other five houses around us are protected also leaving the area somewhat timeless.

You read back to find out what others thought the "future" was going to be. I've read 1984 or even video scans of The Jetsons, and it's not even close. Cars are not hovering, and houses aren't on large poles. In fact, we're just more advanced than the last two hundred years and the changes are not even evident in my house. The styles have changed with the times. God, I sound like an old old person at twenty-seven.

My daughter is gone for today; she's at Magic School with her friends while Kip and I work at the house. Ironically, it's my husband who has the powers and not me. He's half witch and half fairy—I don't joke with him with that piece of his heritage—and uses magic more than I do. As much I would love magical brooms and self-folding clothes, it is part of being a married mother in San Francisco.

The conservatory looks like a Barbie house has exploded, and I'm picking up the fifteenth Barbie shoe under the wicker white chair, and in the corner of my eye, I notice the Family Spirit Board's needle begin to move. My husband enjoys messing with me, because I can't do that trick and it aggravates me when he does it, "KIP?"

"Yeah?" I hear Kip's voice scream from the kitchen.

"Stop moving the spirit board! It's not funny!"

Kip, wearing his favorite ripped jeans and used shirt, carries a ham sandwich with a huge bite missing. "Spirit board?"

"You know it bothers me when you show off."

He is puzzled. "I didn't touch a thing. "

"Is Piper home?"

"No, why?"

"Don't you see the needle?" I point to the Spirit Board and the needle continues to move from letter to letter.

"Honey, I'm not messing with the Spirit Board. You think I'd mess with a family heirloom?"

"Then, who is it?"

I throw all the Barbie accessories into a basket and walk up to the board. The Spirit Board has been around for centuries, and it directed Phoebe Halliwell to the Book of Shadows. In turn, she read the incantation from the inside of the book, and inadvertently, changed her and her sisters into the Charmed Ones from Melinda Warren's prophecy in the 1600s.

Prophecies and premonitions aren't new for the Halliwell line. They have prevented harm and foresaw events way into the future. There is one prophecy about the re-coming of the Charmed Ones and saving the Halliwell line, but like the coming of Christ hasn't happen yet. My aunt had the gift of prophecy and helped my mother fight evil; unfortunately, it didn't prevent my aunt's untimely death at twenty-three or my mother's death this past winter. The gift of magic hasn't always been a blessing in our family. Many Halliwell women are blessed as witches but cursed as women. Too many women have seen their sisters die in front of them. As an only child, I didn't have to worry about losing a sister, but after the birth of my daughter, the thought of losing my daughter to evil has haunted me.

The Spirit Board spins in my arrival almost dancing. It points to A and then T and then T…

"Kip, why is the Spirit Board sending me to the attic?"

"Don't know."

"This isn't a joke, is it?" Kip shook his head. I sprint up the two flights of stairs to the attic. All the clutter has been magically moved and shrunken into a Victorian dresser, and the attic is barren except for the dresser and a black trunk. The trunk is worn black leather with fraying belts and holds the most important piece of Halliwell history inside, The Book of Shadows.

After my mother died, the Book glared at me as if I was responsible for her death instead of evil. I placed the heavy Book in the trunk the day of her funeral—almost putting to rest magic—good and evil along with my mother. Now, the trunk moved its legs as if it was walking toward me.

It reaches my feet and springs open. And like seven months ago, it glares at me. I feel like it's blaming me, Shannen Aster, if you had powers, you could have saved your mother. One vanquishing potion or spell could have destroyed that evil bastard, but you didn't have it in you to save her. The book was right.

I pull out the Book and place it on a dusty stand. The intricate Celtic Wiccan engraving and the gold letters pop onto my fingertips. It juts open and begins to flip pages then just as abruptly starts it ends on a page. On top of the page reads, "The Return of the Charmed Ones." The prophecy was like the Charmed prophecy—everyone in the family knew it, but as I peer onto most closely, it appears the page is fading. I touch the letters and I am jerked away from book as if I am electrically shocked.

My eyes close as a flash of memories rush me…antique clock, an old fashioned camera, squinting eyes, feeling staying and moving in one direction, Piper, but not my Piper, Phoebe, white demon with flowing white hair, shoved through a wall, blood spilling, Paige…

In just that moment, I open my eyes and reread the prophecy:

The Charmed line will be threatened as Egypt's men

A return is vital in order to defend

Enriched in every season, each will bloom

Their arrival will prevent certain doom

Heed this warning not as Pharaoh

Together again, destroy this evil foe.

I speak to the Book as if it is a long lost friend, "I'm Prue Halliwell." My legs feel wobbly and drop to the floor.