Elise Hazard

I was driving home one day when I saw a little girl walking down the railroad tracks. I didn't think much of it at first, but while I waited at the light, the arms to the railroad barriers started to go down. A train was coming.

I looked over at the girl, and she hadn't moved. What was she thinking?!

“Hey!” I yelled at her. She turned.

“You need to get off the tracks, a train's coming!” A whistle went off in the background.

“I need to go home, and I have to walk on the tracks!” She yelled back. She pointed down south, her finger following the tracks. She couldn't have been older than 6.

“Get in my car then, I'll take you home!” I yelled. Wait, what? I was offering a little girl a ride. I secretly hoped she wouldn't take it. I felt creepy just asking. But I knew she had to get off the tracks. Another whistle.

“Come!” I yelled again. I could see the train at this point. The little girl decided to come. She seemed so calm, so suave, so in control.

The train whistled past, lurched and jerking. It was large and chunky, moving fast yet securely. The little girl had gotten into my car just before the train had crossed at the cross road. Best timing ever.

“I need you to come with me.” A girl suddenly said. I looked to the passenger seat where the girl had been sitting, but a girl my own age sat their. Rather than small and blonde with extremely curly hair, this girl had jet black hair, purple eyes and stared unblinkingly at me.

“Em...” was all I could manage. How? What?

“Grab my hand. I know.” And then I got it.

Three years ago I had discovered I could make things levitate, or fly. I'd been on the top bunk of my bed and needed a book from the floor. Jokingly, I stuck my hand out in the its direction and said “Wingardium Leviosa,” trying to summon the book to me. Much to my surprise, the book quivered a little.

Ten minutes later, I got the book to hover slightly and move to the bed, but I couldn't get it to come up. I was frustrated. Looking back, I probably should have just been dumbfounded and so happy I could make the book hover that not being able to get it up my bed wouldn't have mattered. But when the book started hovering, something clicked in my brain. It was just right. It felt so natural.

I practiced a lot more, and now I can make a book zoom wherever I want. Sometimes I mutter “Wingardium Leviosa” to myself, just for fun, or I stick my hand out like a jedi and “use the Force.” But I laugh at myself, all that's so silly. It's not a spell that I use, and there's no invisible force around me I can summon to do my bidding. It's just a thing that can happen. And I wasn't restricted to books either. I heaviest thing I could move is my entertainment centre form my mom's living room, but that took a lot of effort and I could only float it for a little.

I never told anyone about my power. I tried to tell my mom, but she was busy with her job. She worked at a hospital, and though we spent enough time together, I always felt that there was a tension- like she knew she ought to be helping a dying person take their medicine rather than shopping for school clothes with her daughter. So I decided not to bother her and simply keep my secret. Even Margie, my best friend, had no clue.

When the freaky dark girl said “I know.” I knew what she knew. She really, knew.

“What do you want?” I asked. I'd never really been one for staying calm long. I was aggressive that way- always to the point.

“Take me hand.”

“Why.”

“We need to go somewhere,” she answered. I looked into her eyes. So honest, yet she had a false innocence about her that made me mistrust her.

“Right. About I drive us, that way we can talk this out and- hey!” I exclaimed. The girl's hand zipped across the gap between me and her pulled up my sweater. Her pointer rested on my scar. My mark. At was oddly shaped. It was a T. I knew it, and my mom knew it too, even though she wouldn't admit it.

Someone, showing me my own scar made me trust her. So I grabbed her hand.

“Please don't kill me.” I said, looking into her eyes. She understood, I knew it.

A jerk pulled me toward her, and I wanted to yell at her, she'd nearly pulled my arm off, but I realized I was traveling. I felt like I was being squeezed through space itself, when I landed in the middle of a very white and dazzling room where two other people stood.

“Wait here please.” she said, her purple eyes staring hard into mine.

“Not like I could leave,” I muttered. I could tell I was in an airport waiting room- giant windows on the side and rows of chairs for waiting passengers. However, there weren't any people there- aside from the two other boys there.

I turned to question her, why had she brought me her?But she was off again, not even a little pop to signify that she'd left.

The End

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