Burned - deep wounds.

She got marked. Burned.
Her wounds are deep and sore, but they will start to heal.
And once their healed, she will be complete.

Kayla is not a typical type of maincharacter. She's lost her family and living on her own has marked her far worse than the three black dots on her underarm.
The three dots stands for that she is now, a part of the magical world.
Will she push everybody away, like she has been doing in the past five years?
Or will someone come through to her? And will she ever be healed completely?

But more importantly; will she be able to heal the world?


4. My Hero

Sunday; the only day of the week with absolutely no classes. Sadly that didn’t keep the lovely alarm system, from ringing my brains out at 6 o’clock.

So, instead of sleeping, I’m pouring waffles, on a way too small plate, for the amount of sugar I need, to survive a day that has started almost before sunrise.

“Are you sure you should eat that, bully?” Ah, the usual morning greeting from the devil herself.

“Yes. I’m positive, Jade. Thanks’ for your concern” I add a few more waffles to my now wobbling pile, and give her the fakest smile I can pull off this early.

She has been like this the whole week, but at least we don’t share that many classes, because she’s a sophomore.


The dining hall is just as white as the rest of the school; just as perfectly boring. The only unusual thing about the dining hall is that all the teachers are eating among us, besides Mrs. Flyker who I haven’t even seen yet.

Though it has only been a week I already belong to a “gang” - if you will. Believe it or not, we got a regular table, at the south corner of the dining hall.

I met Jackie and Liz in my first history-class last Monday and the first thing they did was to introduce me to the “smiley” of their group: Spencer. Not that I get her title, seriously that girl has got the same emotional level as a dead whale; but looking at Liz and Jackie it makes more sense.

Jackie is the “leader” and Liz is the “funny one”, I like to think of her as the “troubled one”, because she’s got some serious humor-issues. I haven’t got a title yet, which probably means they’re still checking me out. I don’t really like the gang, but they’re there, which is nice.

My roommates Cindy and Max are nice and I do talk to Cindy in the morning, but they usually keep themselves occupied with some great book.

Really, I haven’t connected to anyone yet. I didn’t except to either, when I came here.


“She’s still giving you crap?”

Jackie is clearly referring to Jade’s brutally honesty. I don’t really find it necessary to answer her, since it’s a given.

“She’s a total bitch, Hailey” Spencer, “the smiley”, is pouring down a cup of juice as she starts our daily conversation about Jade’s bitchiness, but really it’s just us being bitchy, because we’ve got nothing else to do. I try not to participate too much, but I still let them have their “I-hate-Jade-club”.

The others nod in agreement, but no one seems to take it further than that.

“What’s up with the waffles?” I look down on the sad stack of waffles in front of me.

“Nothing, thought I could I eat it” I push the plate closer to the middle of the white plastic table, “It’s up for grabs”.

Everybody else seems to enjoy the morning buffet.


“I’m going to go to the library, okay? Find something for tomorrow’s project”. Tomorrow me, Jackie and Liz has got a history-project, about teleportation and so far … we’ve got nothing. I grab my jacket and walk out of the dining hall.

The corridor leading to the dining hall isn’t filled with lockers or offices. It is simply just a white corridor with a few paintings of famous and/or dead people on horses.

The marble hall is silent and only a few elves are talking in a corner. The library is on the other side of the staircase and is probably the biggest room here. I open the big wooden-doors and I can instantly smell a strong sent of old books. Enormous bookcases are filling up the room row after row and round tables are spread around them. Other than a few students sitting by some computers in the back of the room, I am the only one in the library. 



I recognize Mr. Jaw’s voice as only a whisper and me who didn’t believe people actually took the whole “quiet library”-thing seriously. 

“Hi, I was just looking for some research on teleportation for tomorrows project”, I say a little louder than necessary, just to see if an angry librarian would come running.

“What made you look here?” Mr. Jaws brown eyes that match his skin, looks eager. I shrug my shoulders. 

“You’re the first to look here. The other students usually looks in the spell-section”, I start to think his whispering doesn’t have anything to do with library-policy; is he hiding from someone?

I look around the almost empty library, “well, teleportation isn’t really a spell. It’s a part of every wizard’s genes – you’re born with it. It’s manipulated, though, by the MCG, but nobody seems to care about that”

“I’m impressed”, Mr. Jaw glances over his shoulders, “follow me, will you?”


I know that Mr. Jaw’s office is in B17, but he had led me to room A17, which apparently is his private room. I start to get a weird feeling in my stomach; I mean what exactly did he mean with “I’m impressed”?

A neat looking bed is standing pressed up against the wall, and a big picture is hanging above it. It has to be that big, otherwise all the people won’t be able to fit in that one frame. Is this his family? I move closer to the bed and I can now tell there are definitely 8 people smiling at the camera, one of them being Mr. Jaw.

“Is this your family?”

The next second he is standing right next to me, with an old book under his fit arm. “Yeah”, he smiles at the picture and points at one of the women, “this is my wife, Whitney”. 

I look up on his face; he looks tired “miss them a lot, huh?”

“Very much”

He reaches me the book and says “for you”. I take the book and turn it in my hands “what’s this?”

“That is a very special book of mine; the only one existing. It got banned from the market a few days after its release, but I happen to know the writer”

“The MCG banned it?”

Mr. Jaw looks worried at me and he gives me a slow nod. I choose to ignore his weird behavior “I guess, too informative?”

Mr. Jaw’s lips form a sad smile and the tired look in his eyes, makes him look a thousand years old.

“Why would you give it to me?”

“You are a clever girl, Ms. Crumbs, and let’s just say you remind me of a very special woman, I once knew”

I start to speak without thinking, “Well, it can’t be my mo …”, but I stop myself before I say something I’ll regret. I thank him for the book and curl it up in my jacket. I walk across the small room and turn the golden grip, but turn around when he says “Oh, and Hailey, you do know why the MCG has manipulated our teleportation right?”

There it was again; the whispering. Like he’s afraid of someone might hear him. I nod.

“Just remember that it isn’t just our teleportation they have control over”


Okay, I’m officially creeped out. I press my jacket and book against my chest, as I walk down the office-corridor.

I press my bracelet against the doorknob to my room, and a weak click sound welcomes me in. Cindy and Max are sitting on Max’ bed with another book, that has almost got the same size as a full-grown pony.

“Hey Hailey”, Cindy looks up at me. I just give her a nod and hurry behind the other side of the wall. I throw my jacket on the dresser, which had gone from a clean, white dresser, to a pile of dirty clothes in less than a week.

I open the small window under the panoramic one. I sweep all of the stuff on my bed on to the floor and sit. I stroke the old books binder and open it on the first page. With small black letters it says “our true power”.

Page two shows me the table of contents. This book is not only about teleportation. There are sixteen chapters on different genes, which have been manipulated; all by the MCG. I can imagine why they would band it.


Monday’s project went great, thanks to the book. Although I had to steer clear of some words like traitors, brainwash and slaves.

I’m a little late for Ms. McStea’s Education-class, but on my way to A11, I see a person in the other end of the hall. That’s odd; everybody’s got classes now. I step back so I’m covered by a big, pink plant.

The person seems to be in a hurry, and as he walks closer to the front door, I recognize the big, brown bag in his hand. It’s my werewolf roommate Brad. What the hell is he doing here? I saw him leave the room this morning – without the bag. My day suddenly just got a lot more interesting than talking with Ms. McStea, about the career plans I don’t have.

I haven’t been talking with Brad yet, but to be honest I haven’t really had a chance to. I mean it takes him about two minutes to get ready and I only share one class with him. The rest of the day he’s usually nowhere to see.


Brad puts his free hand on the big front door. As he had heard the blood running through my veins, he turns his head and looks directly at me. Well, not directly at me, because of the big plant covering my face, but I still duck down as if I had been caught peeping in the girls locker-room.

He pinches his eyes at the plant for a while, before he sneaks out. I’m left alone in the hall and my mind is so far off the class waiting for me in A11 that I get up and head for the front door instead.

I’m careful with the door and I only open it a few inches so I can slide out without making too much noise. Brad is moving fast and is already close to the pine-forest. Is he seriously running away? I haven’t even thought of that and I’m not exactly running around in a costume with a big sign that says “I heart SOEC”.

I begin to run after him. I must look a little disoriented, because I’m running in a weird zigzag pattern. But that’s just so I can hide in the shadows of the big plumtrees spread across the mowed lawn.

Where is he going?


Finally he stops. I can only see his back, but his muscles seem tense, like he’s concentrating on something. He picks up a small, grey rock in front of him. He weighs it in his right hand, twisting and turning it.

I’m starting to get kind of bored, watching him trying to wrap his mind around the little stone. But finally he stops twisting it around. It just lays there, flat in his hand. He squeezes it tight and throws it into the wood, but like it has hit a wall it suddenly falls straight down. It looks innocent, there in the dried mud. Brad doesn’t even seem to acknowledge that the stone didn’t make it in between the tall trees. Is he like those dogs you pretend to throw a ball at, but keep it in your hand, and they just run like crazy after the ball, that’s still resting in your hand? I mean, he is technically a kind of a dog.

Finally he looks down on the stone. He picks it up and throws it at the forest again. It bounces back to its place in the mud. He picks it up and throws it again. The same thing happens. He goes at it for a couple of more minutes and the only result he reaches is the same blunt sound of the small stone landing on the exact same spot, over and over again.

I turn around to go back to my class at A11, but as I pass the first shade of a big plum tree, I stop. Instead of the mud-sound I can hear the silent hissing of the stone drifting through the thousand closely spaced pines. I turn my head and Brad is already hunting through the mud for another stone. Things just got interesting again. In my eagerness to find out what would happen next, I forgot all about my well thought zigzag path behind the tree’s and Brad reacted faster than I had ever thought possible.

He grabs my shoulder and the pain of his claws digging through my sweater and skin, quickly mixes with the paralyzing shock through my spine when I hit a rock solid trunk. I can’t even scream and it feels like my last breath has already left my lungs. Until both my feet (actually my whole body, since I kind of collapse) is intact with gravity again.

It all happens very fast. His claws leaving my bloody shoulder; me, falling to the ground like a rag doll; and the sound of a fist badly damaging a jaw.


He is definitely passed out. I rise on my elbow and slowly, without withholding complaints, get up from the dry grass. I brush my pants off of dirt and look up. Matt is standing with a blood dripping fist looking straight at me.

I awkwardly hump my way next to him, “this is usually where you break the silence with an epic line from a movie, or something”.

“Are you okay?” he looks at me.

I smile, “not really what I was looking for”. I giggle (which is something I rarely ever do), “yes, I’m fine”.


“So, what should we do with him?”

Brads rugged body is still lying in the grass.

I look over my still bleeding shoulder. The whole area around the school is silent, not even one of the many tree branches is creaking and there’s no hissing of a wind or breath.

“We could bury his body in the woods?”

I look up at Matt’s clearly terrified face, “relax, it was a joke”.

“Got me”, Matt looks at Brad. I look at his face and the small wrinkle in his forehead makes him look miserable.

I sigh and break his trance when I nudge Brad’s massive shoulder with the tip of my shoes, “you really knocked him out cold, huh?”

I choose to ignore Matt’s evil eye burning into my neck like lasers. I can feel his gaze turning away from me and I glance over my shoulder and see the small wrinkle representing itself again.

“He’s just … sleeping”

I desperately try to tighten my lips together, but that only makes my outburst

even louder, “Yeah right, and your mom didn’t run over your dog when you were

five. She gave him up to a farm made of candy, where he got married and

had three puppies named Fluffy, Rainbow and Cupcake”

“Don’t you think that’s taken the joke a little too far?”

I shuck my shoulders, “got to be creative"

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