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I barely slept as my mind raced over all of the things I had heard. To make matters worse, I had lurched out of bed around two in the morning-- vomiting and sweating.
Another nightmare had attacked me, and this time, I felt like I wouldn’t wake from the experience.
My body plunged into dark and murky water, swallowing me whole. The water thrashed in waves, like the beating of dragons' wings against my skin, cutting me like a knife. I fought against the current, but something heavy pressed me under the surface and made it hard for my head to break free above water.
My arms ached as I thrashed against the water. I didn't dare to open my mouth to scream this time, but something nudged my leg and fear wracked over me. This was it. I was going to die...
When I had finally awoken from the nightmare, I swore my body was still wet– almost as though I had truly been placed in water. I hated these dreams and how I never understood what they meant. Sometimes, I could swear that my dreams were glimpses into things that would happen later on– almost like broken puzzle pieces that flew through my mind at random times.
Once, I had a dream where I saw a teenage girl bleeding and trapped inside of a fiery car. I couldn’t get to her, even though she was screaming and begging for me to save her. Two weeks later, I saw a car accident near my house. My mom had slowed down due to the reduced traffic. I spotted a girl that looked eerily similar to the one from my dream and I had been shocked. Staring at her, she tried to run back to the now blazing vehicle. Police and EMT workers struggled to get to her, but she was too fast and rushed past them. In a moment of panic, I reached across the car and slammed my fist on the steering wheel, honking the loud car horn.
Everyone turned, and this allowed one police officer to reach the frantic girl before she could get inside her car again.
Later, I had learned that the girl had wanted to go back for her sister, who she never saw crawl out the passenger side window. Their story was featured on the nightly news. As my mom and I sat and watched the story, Mom stared at me with a strange look. We never talked about how I honked the horn for no reason. I couldn’t even really explain it myself. I just had this strong urge to do it. Like I couldn’t function if I didn’t.
I never spoke of my dreams.
***
Candi didn’t come back to our room until well after I was asleep and I was happy about it. After grabbing a muffin from the cafeteria, I double-checked my schedule again. I barely have an appetite this morning, so picking at a blueberry muffin will just have to do. Thankfully, they have amazing coffee or I would be a walking zombie today. Wait, are there zombies really here? I may have to reword my metaphors now.
I descended the spiral staircase, my heart thudding with anticipation. The long hallway causes me to pause as I find myself getting lost as I try to follow the map on the back of my schedule. I didn’t want to be late on my first day of class; especially for my first period of the day, a class I had been eagerly awaiting and dreading at the same time: History of Magic. I tried to make myself invisible as I navigated through the halls. I was totally the newbie here and the last thing I needed was more attention drawn to me. After triple checking to ensure I was at the right place, I stopped in the doorway of a large room. Sucking in a deep breath, I take the first step into the room and know that without a doubt there is no going back now. Once I am in this room, I know there is no turning back.
The air in the class hums with anticipation and my heart races as I take my seat among a sea of Witches and Wizards, some born to their magic while others are newly discovering it. All around me people already know what to expect; they chatter excitedly and exchange knowing glances, while I can only feel unsure of what lies ahead. The air is thick with an unknown power. I feel utterly overwhelmed and insignificant in comparison - to know nothing of my own magic feels like an insurmountable task, but yet here I am ready to start my journey into the magical history that surrounds us. I am dwarfed by the sheer power that exudes from everyone else in the room-- by the thought of learning something so unfamiliar. How do I catch up? How will I ever understand what has come before me?I have no idea what to expect in this history of magic course. The large lecture hall is filled with students all buzzing with excitement and exhilaration as they wait for the start of their studies in magic. Some know that they are a Witch or Wizard by birth, while others have only just discovered that they possess magical powers. I can't help but feel lost.
“Class, everyone sit down. I amProfessor Laneand this is History of Magic. I assume that if you are in this class, you are ready to explore the magic that courses through each one of you,” she paused, her lips pursing as our eyes met. “Though, some of you may still be navigating your way through uncovering magic at all. I know that most of you want to get to the exciting part– discovering who and what you truly are. In the coming days, we will conduct research of each of your heritage, and then through the Unveiling Ceremony, each of you will get a glimpse into your magic.”
Everyone around me began to chatter with excitement. I seemed to be the only one without a friend to cling to and share my happiness with.
I wanted to curl up in a ball and seriously die. While Professor Lane didn’t call me out by name, everyone seemed to know it was me who they were talking about. I hated that my legacy and secrets followed me here; especially when this was supposed to be the one place in the world where I would feel accepted and normal. Instead, I was being made to feel even more like an outsider. Great, I would always be a freak.
Suddenly, a bell chimed and everyone grew quiet.
“Professor Flitwick, will you please send Farrah to my office?” Headmaster Patricia announces over the intercom.
Everyone’s eyes land on me and I hate being the subject of attention once again.
As I stand, I glance around nervously. “Where is her office?” I ask sheepishly.
A few people chuckle but when Professor Lane gives them dirty looks, they all quiet down.
“Go up the main stairs and turn to your left. You will see a sign for the administration offices,” Professor Lane tells me.
Nodding, I grab my items and rush out of the door. I do my best to keep my head down as I travel the short distance to where the offices are located. Thankfully, I didn’t get lost.
When I reach the Headmaster’s door, it opens before I even get a chance to knock. As I stepped into the Headmaster's office, I’m overwhelmed by the intricate designs on the walls and wood carvings running along the ceiling. A rich mahogany desk stands at the center of the room with a large, red leather chair behind it. Intricate gold and blue tapestries outlined the large windows and shelves of books were arranged with various glass decorations.
“Welcome, please have a seat,” she announces, gesturing to a chair in front of the massive desk.
I do as I’m told and nervously tuck my hands under my legs.
“How has your first day of classes been?” she asks, her silver eyes watching me carefully.
Gulping, I grow nervous and feel as though I am in some type of trouble. “They were ok,” I say.
“Please don’t be nervous. I can feel your energy radiating off of you in waves,” she laughs, easing some of the tension that threatens to suffocate me.
I smile, but still feel nervous.
