"Whoa!" I scream as I hit the ground bouncing and turning around and around as I fall. I land with my head burried in the sand my arms next to my head, my ash coloured hair is spread around around my head whilst my legs... one is straight down and the other is in a 40 degree angle.
"Ouch," I say, running my hands all over my body checking for any breakages, once checked that I'm alright I push myself up and round, so I'm sitting on my bum. Whatta fantastic entrance, Ash. Seriously, well done, I don't think anybody has has SUCH and attractive landing. That little voice in my head says. "Oh shut up!"
It wasn't my fault I was flung here, that the people from my old village back home in England had enough of me. I hug my knees, how many fifteen and a bit year olds do you know that can cause fires in a thought, and can... share, another's gifts. It's not my fault, all I have to do is make proper eye contact or touch them. I hate it, it's very rare that it doesn't happen.
People seem fasinated with my eyes too, big emerald green eyes with ruby red sprials going down into the puples. As far as I know I'm the only one that can do what I can, after my Grandmother that is, she could. It skipped a generation so my mother didn't get the 'gift'. There was something different about my gifts though, my Granny said they were the most powerful that our family or bloodline has ever had. No one knows why either, it's always been that the women in our family had it but the power never grew; until me.
I've had these 'gifts' since the day I was born, but managed - don't ask how - to keep it a secret from our very religious and very anti-witchcraft. My mum had to fight so I wasn't burnt at the stake; so did I.
I'm not even a witch! ... I just have ichy witchy powers...