Ordinary People Problems

Have you ever noticed how every story starts with the hero or heroine discovering that they’re special? Like getting magical powers? Surely you remember the ten-year-old English boy who received a letter by owl to a fancy, magical boarding school and discovers he's a wizard. Or maybe you remember the three sisters who discover that they're the most powerful witches to ever live after their Grams died and their powers started showing? How about the clumsy Japanese schoolgirl discovers that she's a moon princess destined to be a guardian of earth from a talking cat? You get the picture. Discovery of magical powers or birth right begins a descent into adventure, danger and a whole new world that they never knew existed.

Well, this isn't that kind of story.

No, I've done the magic thing and I'm over it. While I didn’t get a letter from an owl or have a talking cat, or even a spell book that seemed to always know what I needed, the day I had turned twelve, the words I had written started to come to life… Not a good thing when you were a twelve-year-old with an overactive imagination. I don't need to squint my eyes or swish and flick my wand. I have no need for the power of the moon or rhyming couplets... Unless reading Shakespearian sonnets that is. I want a normal life. I’m tired of dropping everything at a moments notice, of never knowing if I was going to live to see the next day. I was done with that life.

I took a deep breath and ran my hands down the soft fabric of the simple white gown I was wearing. It was the exact same style as the one I had worn ten years earlier when I had been initiated into the order of world saving, magically inclined girls.

“Are you ready?” I looked up from my dress into the ethereal face of Sybilla. I could remember back when we had been in training how she had been the one to help me through the rigorous trials of initiation. This would be the last time I saw her. The last time I would be able to see her.

I nodded. “Yeah…” Then I bit my lip. “Maybe…”

“Are you sure about this?” Sybilla asked.

I nodded. “Yes…” I looked down at my hands, flicked my fingers and watched as the ethereal, glowing pen appeared there, ready to do my will. All I had to do was lift it up and begin to write. The words would appear in the air, glowing in their magical light. Then they would swirl together and whatever I wrote would become a reality. It was my gift. It was my duty. It had been my destiny. I stared at the pen in my fingers, fiddling it and allowing the doodles to glimmer on the air before they dissipated. “Maybe…”

“Why are you doing this if you’re not ready?”

“I’ve been doing this for ten years…” I said, still doodling in the air with the ethereal pen. “I’m twenty-two years old and I want a normal life.”

“Normal is overrated,” Sybilla said with her trademark smirk.

I cocked my head and looked at her, “You died doing this work… Mirella, Paloma, Felicia, Adriranna, they all died doing this work. I’d rather go out on my own terms.”

“What’s his name?” Sybilla asked, her ethereal form sitting in the air, crossing her legs, and propping her chin on her hand, ignoring the point I was trying to make.

I looked up at her from my air doodling. “What?”

“You heard me,” Sybilla said, tapping a finger against her cheek.

I shook my head. “It’s nothing like that.”

“Oh really?” Sybilla pressed. “Not even that boy from your university?”

“What? Declan?” I half-cried, my fingers releasing the hold on the ethereal pen. Instead of falling to the floor it dissipated into glittering lights that faded out of existence one by one. “No.”

“Uh huh…”

I could tell that she did not believe me. Ok, so maybe Declan had had something to do with my decision to leave, but not for the reasons Sybilla thought. I was tired. I had spent ten years of my life lying to everyone around me, living a double life… Never ever being able to hold a pen. “Let’s just do this, yeah?”

*

I rolled over in bed, the light coming through the windows bothered me. I drew my hand out from under the covers and extended it towards the window. I twitched my fingers. Nothing happened. Groggily I sat up and stared at my hand. My fingers twitched gain.

“Close…” I mumbled, but nothing happened.

I groaned. My eyes opened further and a stared dejectedly at my light filled room. I twitched my fingers again and nothing happened. I sighed and with another groan of frustration, I threw the covers off and swung my legs out of bed. It was probably time to get up anyway.

The alarm started wailing to prove that point.

“Off!” I muttered flicking my fingers towards the wailing alarm clock. It kept blaring its resounding beep, beep, beep. I heaved a sigh once more and leaned over to inspect the device for an off button. I stared at the buttons. Snooze, tune, am/pm... What was I supposed to do with these? I pressed everything I could. Something, I think the snooze button made everything become blessedly silent and I took a deep, calming breath. Just the way I had been taught to when my emotions threatened to send my magic haywire.

I opened the wardrobe, carefully selecting clothes that would be suitable for my first day at work. That’s right... The real reason I had left had not been for a boy... Even if our breakup had prompted me to take a closer look at my life and decide what it was I really wanted... And I wanted this job.

I laid the clothes out on my bed and trudged groggily into the bathroom to shower. “Hot water,” I said with a flick of my wrist and the fluttering of my fingers that had usually resulted in the appearance of my ethereal pen and the water turning on to my perfect shower temperature. As before, nothing happened. I sighed and stuck my head into the shower to find the knobs. I turned the blue one and shrieked and when cold water rained down on my head. I jumped backwards out if the shower cubicle, my hair and night clothes drenched from the sudden and freezing downfall.

I cursed at my own stupidity. I reached back in, this time, twisting my body to try and avoid the freezing cold spray of the shower as I tried to reach the hot water tap. I turned it on and then went to divest myself of my soggy clothes.

Around me, the small room was streaming up from the hot water and as I stepped into the shower I cried out in pain. Boiling hot water cascaded against my skin and I fled the cubicle, as I inspected the reddening skin on my arm and shoulder. It stung with heat. I tried again to each in to reach the tap, trying desperately to turn the hot water down. The water cooled and I stepped back in, the temperature feeling pleasant against my skin. I added shampoo to my hair and lathered my long tresses in bubbling soap.

Suddenly the water turned and I was once again pelted with freezing droplets. I cried out in frustration, reaching for the tap again, soapy tendrils falling into my eyes.

What was I going to do? How did other people do this?

I rubbed at my eyes, rubbing the soap into them. “You have got to be kidding me!” I cried. My eyes stung as I stumbled back out of the cubicle into the drafty bathroom.

Laughter erupted from the air around me, echoing off the tiles of the room. I knew that laughter, the mocking tone of it as culprit reminding me of the long days of training.

“Sybilla!” I cried out. “Stop that!”

I wished that I could see her. I had known that relinquishing my powers would stop that, but it had been what I wanted… Until I realised just how much I had allowed my abilities to rule my life. I couldn’t even take a shower with relying on them.

Raucous laughter continued to emanate from where I was sure the ghost of my friend was hanging. “I can’t help myself,” the voice giggled. “You’re just too funny!”

I grabbed a towel, wrapping it around myself and dabbing at my eyes, trying to remove the sting. “Why can I hear you?”

“Because I’m allowing it… Well, I’m exuding enough magical energy that’s allowing you to interact with me, even without your powers.”

“Why?” I asked, pulling the towel tighter around myself.

“Oh, you know... I just remembered how you would write anything and everything...”

“Carlotta?” She was cut off by the sound of my mother knocking on my door. “You’re going to be late. Have you eaten anything yet?”

Dread gripped at me while Sybilla started to laugh again. “When was the last time you cooked breakfast?”

“I... Umm... Well...” Sybilla’s laughter was infectious but I seriously needed to get a move on. “Get out and let me get ready!”

The alarm started to blare from my room again.

Sybilla laughed as I cursed, “Bye Carlotta!” and with that her presence was gone.

By the time I finally got downstairs, it was too late for a sit-down breakfast. I grabbed a slice of toast from my mother’s plate, shoving it in my mouth as I struggled to put my jacket on.

“Bye mum!” I said, chewing and hiding the toast away from us as I have her an awkward one-armed hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Have a good day sweetheart,” Mum called after me as I ran off.

As the door shut behind me, I considered how I was supposed to get into the city... Once upon a time, my ethereal pen would have written myself a ride, usually a Pegasus like creature made up of glowing letters that would carry me into battle alongside my sisters. I had often used my abilities in my day-to-day life... I would have to figure out the bus...

Sybilla’s laughter followed me as I walked to the bus stop. “Are you still sure about your choice?” she asked.

I stared at the indecipherable but timetable before, tempted to tell her that I was not sure and to beg for my powers back, but I had made my choice. “I’m sure,” I said after a moment. “I think... Ordinary people problems, right?”

Sybilla laughed. “Ordinary people problems,” she agreed, probably also thinking about how we used to joke about the trifles of everyday life as we would never know it.

As tough as this day had already been and I was certain that it was about to get a lot harder, this was the first day of the rest of my extremely normal, ordinary life.