Violent Passions

Chapter 1: Amelia's Story

Had I ever known I was a witch? No, I only found out when I was sixteen years old. Why had that secret been kept from me? My parents wanted me to be a normal teenage girl. To protect me? Did they think it was best? I have never known.

This is my story, one that has filled me with heart wrenching pains, deep joy, and a violent passion that would forever change my life. Let me take you back, to when I first found out that things like hippogriffs, unicorns, and magic really existed.

My name is Amelia Amour; I live in Salem, Maine United States, and have just barely turned sixteen on August 25. But it was just like any other birthday. I get a few presents, only from my parents and relatives, and get to eat ice cream for breakfast. For some reason, I just don't think there is much to celebrate about that. I've never had any friends, and am considered the school "freak." No, I don't dress all in black, I hardly own any black! And no, I don't like math or science or even school for that matter! So, why am I a freak? I will never know. Every school is the same, and once in a while your going to face plant hard. Which I do a lot, considering I am terribly clumsy.

I've never had a boyfriend either, and think it is because of my appearance. I am definitely not the skinniest person, but I'm not fat either. I am more muscle I than fat, but I have larger thighs, a rounder face, and am bigger boned than most girls my age. But, even though I hate my appearance, I am not at all desperate. Every guy was the same, and they only focused on looks and popularity. Shallow little jocks aren't they? I never plan on having a boyfriend as long as I live!

There are a couple good things about me though. I can sing, very well, but have never been on stage because of stage fright. And I would also have to work with people, which I'm not very good at. Another skill I have a knack for is cooking. Although I've never tried big gourmet meals, the basic stuff I can handle; pasta, cakes, chinese (which is my favorite), sea food, and many other things. Which is strange, because both my parents aren't very good at cooking anything. I suppose that may be why I have this talent, otherwise we could all starve. So I'm exaggerating just a little. Good thing my dad really loves my mom.

I am a regular teenager, who of course needs her space, yells and throws fits in front of her parents sometimes. But you know what they say; you never appreciate the things you have so much until you lose them. You could never know how true that is.

It was the night after my birthday, and I was going out for my nightly run. Most people hate running in the dark, but for some reason it calms me more than it would if I ran during the daytime. I know it is kind of stupid, but I live in a nice secluded neighborhood where there haven't been any gangs or shootings. Anyways, I have been running for five years now and the only thing that has ever happened to me is this group of dumb kids ran up behind me and scared me. But they aren't ever doing that again, because I punched one hard in the face and I don't think his nose will ever be the same. Maybe that's the reason people stay away from me.

Anyway, I was jogging around my neighborhood around nine o'clock at night. There were a few golden lights in nearby windows, but gradually they all started to dim as the night drew on. I jogged around the familiar areas, until my legs were tired and heavy, and then decided to go back to my house. I looked at my watch.

"Oh well, it's ten-thirty anyways," I said to myself, and turned back the other way.

When I returned to my house, the lights were out and I suspected my mother and father were getting ready for bed.

'Hopefully I'm not locked out again,' I thought, and chuckled softly. My hand was on the doorknob when I heard the crashing of glass on the kitchen floor, and my mother screamed.

"Silencio!" a voice hissed, and my heart pounded freely in my chest. I opened the door as quietly as possible, but didn't close it all the way. I didn't want to make a sound. Tiptoeing, I made my way to the corner where the kitchen was connected with the front room. My mother and father were kneeling immobile on the tile floor of the kitchen, apparently unable to talk though there was nothing gagging them. I heard a strangers voice speak.

"Amazing, how long it took me to find you," the voice said, and I resisted the urge to scream.

"But now, I will have the revenge I sought to have twenty-three years ago," it said. I saw a green light engulf the room, and I turned around the corner. My parents both screamed before falling onto the ground, lifeless. I screamed in horror, staring at the murderer with unbearable grief shining in my emerald eyes. I couldn't see him, because he wore a black hood over his head. But I swore I saw him smile sadistically at me before suddenly disappearing, my scream once more echoing through the house before I fell down on my knees to cry.