Rhiannon

I walk along the street, trying to ignore the insults being flung at me from every direction. It's hard - I don't get angry too easy, but I have a fierce temper - and I should be used to it, considering it's been happening since I got mad two weeks ago and whilst my palm was facing that girl I said "Kápste ta malliá ti̱s makriá," which means something along the lines of "Burn her hair off." 

Hi. I'm Rhiannon, and I'm a witch.

Yes. Witch. Don't laugh. I'll burn the hair off your head. And I will and I will and I have done before.

I'm human in the sense that I look like one, except for the small oval sapphire, about the size of the fingernail on my smallest finger, which is embedded in the skin between my eyebrows. Forehead jewel, mark of a witch.

Aside from that, I look pretty much like your average sixteen year old. Well, if wavy blue-black hair that stops at my back, sapphire blue eyes and weirdly pale skin can be called average.

The insults start to fade, and I breathe a sigh of relief- when some stupid boy shouts something that, if it was on TV, would be one big bleep.

My relief freezes into cold fury. I turn on him.

"Say that again," I say, my voice quiet but perfectly audible.

And he does. The idiot does.

I raise my arm, palm out, and say, "Meínete makriá í̱ na kaeí!" Stay away or burn!

My eyes flash blood red and for a moment my sapphire glows with a ruby light. Then both are a dark blue colour again.

The idiot steps towards me, and then cries out in pain, hands flying to his head. I smile grimly, then cup my hands.

"Epitrépste mou na petáxei, étsi ó̱ste kanénas boreí na me dei" I mutter. Let me fly, so that none may see me.

A small pair of dark blue feathered wings appears on my back. I look down at my now semitransparent hand an know I'm invisible. I kick off, hard, and fly till I'm both far away and tired.

I land on a deserted street, and undo my spells so I once again look as normal as I ever do. But something feels wrong. What?

I look around, and see the house next to me. I can see through one of the upstairs windows, see a boy admiring himself in a mirror.

No, not boy. Vampire.

Oh, great. I know he senses I'm staring dumbstruck at the fact I'm less than ten metres away from a vampire, and he knows I'm here now.

Well, this should be... for lack of a better word, fun.

The End

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