Charmers Chapter 1: A Rising Star

Since birth, I thought I was a normal girl.
I thought wrong.
It was June 28th. I clambered up the steps on the bus to start my last day of school. I found my usual seat beside my best friend.
“Hi,” said Annah Smyth. “Wow, last day in elementary school, weird, isn’t it? This is our last day together.”
Annah and I were going to different high schools. We tried our hardest to make it work but in the end, we decided it was time to grow up and see things realistically. I smiled sadly as I recounted that moment in my mind. There was a bit of crying and definitely laughter as we remembered all of our great memories in Public School.
I was overcome with such a strong sense of sadness that I felt a sudden rush of anger. I don’t know why it happened, or how. I just know I went from happy to sad to furious in a matter of seconds. Then, almost abruptly, my anger stopped. And I looked out the window as the bus let more people on. But in addition to the people, I thought I had just seen a blur of…something. It was purple against the beautiful light blue of the morning sky. It was too big to be a bird and way too small to be a plane. If anything, the blur was human. A flying human; I laughed at myself, suddenly feeling much better. That would be the day!
Although I was surprised with the anger and the supposed purple human following me, I knew this feeling. This had happened to me twice before. Though it hadn’t happened in years and I kind of forgot about it.
I was six years old the first time this ever happened. It was February. A month comprised of slush and disgusting, half-melted snow. The only thing that got me and my babysitter, Kaitlyn through that treacherous walk home was the thought that we were one day closer to the weekend. My blond hair whipped into my eyes and I pulled on my hood. Oh, to be in Ontario and feel a Canadian winter.
We turned the corner and onto my street. A huge gust of wind blew me into my neighbor’s bush. Kaitlyn rushed over to me and helped me up. Sometimes she had forgotten that I only weighed 60 pounds. I rushed to the driveway and picked up a pile of snow. I packed it into a tight sphere and hurled it at Kaitlyn. She laughed as my snowball hit her in the stomach. Next thing I knew, Kaitlyn and I were soaked to the bone, covered in snow and freezing! She took the key to my house out of her heavy-looking backpack and unlocked the door with the speed and skill of a ninja.
Stepping inside the warm, comforting house, Kaitlyn asked me if I’d like some hot chocolate. Of course, still being in the obsessive sweet tooth stage of my childhood, my immediate answer was yes. Kaitlyn took out the kettle and added enough water for two mugs. I wondered where she learned how to make hot chocolate so well. I must have asked aloud because that was the day I learned how to make it.
I felt like I was on top of the world, my babysitter being involved in everything possible at Creek Hill; sports, committees and clubs. She was a dream babysitter.
As I thought this, I was taken by a sense of friendship I had never experienced (I didn’t meet Annah until the following year). Suddenly, I was mad at Kaitlyn. Mad at her for being part of the basketball team. Mad at her for being part of the yearbook committee. Mad at her for being my babysitter. Mad at her for being my friend. I was confused and angry with myself for thinking those mean things. I was furious, angrier than I’d ever been in my life and more furious than a little six-year old should ever be. Grumbling, I ran to the bathroom. I grabbed my little footstool and dragged it in front of the counter. I stepped onto it and looked at myself. My face was bright red and I was shaking from anger. I looked up at the skylight in the ceiling and…a flash of purple flew through the stretch of gray sky. I gasped and snapped out of my anger. Slowly, shade by shade, my face turned back to its regular colour. My green eyes turned from squinting almonds to their regular wide stare. My breathing turned back to normal; I was panting before.
I walked out and smiled at Kaitlyn. “You know, you’re a really good kid, Emma,” she said. “I like spending time with you.” I smiled at Kaitlyn. The feeling was mutual.
I snapped out of my flashback and looked over at Annah. She smiled at me and I grinned back. I was reminded of when Annah and I first met. Coincidentally, I saw the flash then too.
It was grade three, in late October. I was seven.
My mom took me into school early because she taught there at the time. I walked into my classroom and my teacher, Mrs. Werner was talking to a lady sitting beside a little blond girl who looked nervous.
“…Annah is usually more social than this. Just after we move, she always gets shy and quiet. It’s just the thought of having to meet new friends again, you know? If she just had someone to show her around it might make it easier,” said the lady who must have been the girl’s mother.
“Well, don’t worry about that, Mrs. Smyth. We– oh! Good morning, Emma. Mrs. Smyth, this is Emma Flynn. Maybe she could be Annah’s little friend for the first couple days?”
I walked over to the teacher’s desk and Annah turned to face me. I can remember the look on her face to this day. It was a look of pure terror. From what I’d heard, she had switched schools more than once and it had a big impact on her life. I felt something that I later interpreted to be pity and I said, “Let me show you around.”
As we walked around the classroom and I told Annah about the class pet and other things in my little seven-year old voice, she told me about how she had moved cities four times in the last two years. I felt terrible for the stranger standing next to me and I still remember the agonizing longing to give her a true friend that I felt.
Suddenly, there was the anger. I was furious with Annah for taking up my time. I was furious with my mother for getting me into this. I was furious with my teacher and furious with the world. I was scared and confused about this and I ran to the bathroom, location unbeknownst to the frightened stranger beside me.
I looked at myself in the mirror and, just like the year before, I was cherry-red and shaking. Then, out of the corner of my eye, the very top corner of the mirror, I saw it again! Now out of my trance, I felt terrible for deserting Annah and I ran out of the bathroom to let her see me.
Naturally, when Annah saw me, she hurried over and then I was angry at her for following me. I ran into a stall and locked the door, waiting. Just waiting. Waiting for that feeling to go away, waiting to feel nothing at all because numbness had to be better than the feeling of anger.
I saw my purple flash for the second time that day out of the tiny window in the stall. I could feel the boiling anger cooling down and I decided that it was safe to pass this off as a desperate need for a bathroom break. I walked to the sink and doused my hands in cool water, in the hope that it would cool my burning body.
*
Back in reality, the bus rolled to a stop in the school’s parking lot and all the students climbed off. As usual, once Annah and I got off, we headed right over to the basketball court.
There was an unwritten rule that only grade eights and the occasional grade seven were allowed on it. Annah and I walked over to our regular group of people, a sea of tank tops, short-shorts and flip-flops. Apparently, on the last day of school, the dress code was irrelevant.
I waved to all my friends. They nodded and turned back with their heads together. We hurried over. We did not want to miss this apparently gossip-filled conversation.
Whispers filled the hot summer air. “What happened?” I asked.
“Do you remember that guy named Jacob that just moved away?” asked my friend, Kristen. I nodded. “Well, do you know where he moved to? Nova Scotia. Apparently he has some sort of anger issue and he went there to get help.” In a way I felt sorry for Jacob. I didn’t know him very well and—I remembered back to the blur on the bus again. If I ended up having anger management problems, would I be shipped off to Nova Scotia too?
“Emma. Emma!” I was shaken from my thoughts by Annah. “We can go inside now.”
I walked into my classroom not bothering to get my books; I was ready for the “Moving Forward” speech. I took my seat beside Annah and in walked my teacher: Mrs. Arrow. She opened her mouth to speak; and so it began.
*
I strolled out to my locker, Annah at my side. Now came the time to clean it out. Annah, having the top locker seemed to think that she could beat me to the punch. Kneeling on the cool concrete floor, Annah put the combo in her lock and it clicked open. I braced myself for the usual avalanche of items and the Ghosts of Locker’s Past, Present and Future haunted me. That is to say, all of Annah’s possessions fell on my face. Annah started giggling and all of a sudden we were doubled over laughing. Tears of glee and sadness were streaming down our faces. All of a sudden our entire class was locked in the group hug of the century.
After a couple minutes of this, my name came on the intercom, “Emma Flynn, your grandfather is here to pick you up.” As I started down the hall, a girl, who was really nice but not one of the coolest kids I’ve ever met, named Melanie ran into me. She started to laugh a soft laughter, hoping for a replay of what happened with me and Annah’s locker, I assume. I knew that she was feeling hopeful that we would become good friends but my annoyance got the better of me. When I didn’t join in laughing, she got very quiet.
I felt white-hot anger boiling in my blood and, like a volcano, it exploded out of me, “YOU’D BETTER WATCH WHERE YOU’RE GOING FROM NOW ON! IF YOU PAID HALF AS MUCH ATTENTION TO YOUR SOCIAL LIFE AS YOU DID IN CLASS, MAYBE YOU’D BE A LITTLE BIT COOLER THAN YOU ARE!” I couldn’t believe what I’d just said. I had always tried to be nice to Melanie; in fact, I tried to be nice to everyone. Before that, I’d never said anything deliberately mean.
But I just wouldn’t shut up, “HONESTLY, YOU’D BETTER JUST LEAVE ME ALONE ONCE HIGH SCHOOL STARTS OR I’LL–” And before I knew it my fist was up in the air and Melanie was on the ground crying and whimpering.
There it was again. The purple. Instantly, I felt better, but worse. Better because I no longer felt my horrible anger but worse because now I could marvel in the damage I’d done.
I snuck a look at Melanie. There was definitely blood; her nose was bleeding.
As I could not face Melanie for, probably the rest of my life, I headed to the office, ignoring the shouts from behind me.
When I entered the office I realized that the man standing in front of me was not my grandfather. He was an eccentric-looking man dressed head-to-foot in a purple suit. He was bigger than a bird, smaller than a plane and he was clutching an old straw broom in his bony, wrinkled hand…
“Can I have a word, Miss Flynn?” he asked. I didn’t know what to say. On the one hand, he could’ve been a murderer, but on the other hand, his only weapon was his broom. I hesitantly followed him out the office door.
“Emma, there’s no point beating around the bush. My name is Charles Alchemme.
“You felt anger today when controlling your emotions, you were sad on the bus and then you were furious. You snapped at that young girl back there when you were just mildly upset. When you were eight, you were furious with your babysitter after feeling a strong sense of friendship. You are a Charmer.” I opened my mouth to speak but he cut me off, “You are to fly over to The Charmers’ Star this Saturday – yes, it is a planet – and you will go to the registration office. You will find me there.
“A Charmer is a type of magician. However Charmers use their emotions to do magic. You won’t get a wand, as some may assume because your magic is channeled through your mind. A Charmer comes to be, usually, from one’s genes. For example, my mother was a Charmer and my father was a Charmer. Unfortunately, they died on the way to The Charmer’s Star as we did not have the technology—ahem, yes. But I am getting ahead of myself.
“I will be by your house on Saturday morning at 10 am sharp to pick you up and explain more to you and your parents. You are not to tell anyone about this.” The man turned to leave. “Oh, and Emma, welcome to our world.” And with that, he turned on his heel and left.
*
I stood there with my mouth hanging open. The secretary came out. “Dear, are you okay? Where is your grandfather?”
“I told him I’d prefer to walk tonight,” I said in a monotone voice. I left the school feeling like a rusty, broken robot.
I entered my house and sank into the couch. I was so confused. I was also angry at myself considering that afternoon’s events.
Was it true? Was I a…Charmer? I had a zillion questions buzzing in my brain at once, like angry bees. One stung more than the others, though: was this a joke? It was true that I’d always been a little bit emotional. But then again, I was a teenage girl; it was bound to happen.
The door opened, letting in an unappreciated gust of swelteringly hot June air and in came my mother looking ecstatic.
There are two things you have to know about my parents. One is that they are not my biological parents. I was put into foster care with them when I was six and they adopted me when I was eight. Considering that they had two sons, I suppose that my mother really wanted a girl in the house. Another thing is that they seemed to be very secretive about my biological parents.
I never knew my real parents because I was put into foster care when I was born. The only thing I knew about them is that my biological mother was really young when I was born. I was hoping to meet them someday but I did love my adopted parents and they cared about me.
“Finally, summer Holidays are here! My teaching duties are done for two solid months! I am going to get such a good tan that I’ll look like I’d been kept in the toaster for too long!” my mom yelled from the landing. I wanted to run down to meet her and tell her about my crazy day and be held in her arms and told it was okay when a voice inside my head, quite possibly my conscience, repeated what this Charles Alchemme guy said, “…You are not to tell anyone about this.”
With as much self control as I’d ever used in my life, I said, “If you did that, you’d just get a really bad burn. You always burn the toast remember?” And I gave a little smile and turned on the TV.