❝ Some of the most wonderful people are the ones who don't fit into boxes. ❞

That horrific school year ended peacefully - something I would have never pictured three months earlier, when I'd crossed the limit of acting freakily by making a giant poisonous spider unintentionally appear on my classmate's arm.

Even though I was convinced I'd get expelled, the headmistress decided against it, after hundreds of phone calls and messages from mom, pleading her not to. Two weeks of suspension was all I received-a period of much-needed relaxation.

First year of high school. Over. Just like that. No moment compared to the absolute joy I felt when I broke into a run after the final bell rang. My feet were carrying me forward with an eagerness to get out of that hellhole before someone could come chasing after me with one last prank to pull.

School wasn't supposed to be this stressful. Yeah, that was the kind of thing every student said. But if schoolwork and the process of getting up early was what bothered them, what bothered me was the feeling of not belonging.

Not that I hadn't tried. In the beginning, I made a few friends. When they (inevitably) discovered I could lift objects without touching them or unlock doors through mere eye contact, they found it fascinating. Kind of creepy, sure, but they thought it was an ability that made me cool and unique. They'd always ask me to teach them how to do it too, but I never had an answer because honestly, I just didn't know how.

It didn't take long for the negative sides of my 'cool abilities' to reveal themselves. Teachers regarded me with a sense of foreboding from the moment they first took notice of them, so they kept me at an arm's length. My Biology teacher though, had a different reaction. He found my presence alone to be revolting. Word got around that he wrote a complaint to the headmistress to have me removed because I was an 'unsettling child.'

I didn't take that very well. How could I, when every time I had his class, all I could see was the way he pretended not to notice me, even when I was the first to solve a textbook problem? Or the way his gaze skipped over me when he held attendance, as if I wasn't worth a minute of his time?

I wished I hadn't done what I did because it cost me. My friends, my reputation-among students and teachers alike-and my overall happiness. The chance at a normal school experience. Finally, after the nightmarish years of middle school loneliness were over, this had been my chance to start over. And I blew it. But by no choice of my own.

It was a lab day. Our Biology teacher, Mr Brandy, paired everyone off in twos but because someone was absent, there was an odd number of students. It didn't shock me that I was the one left without a partner. I wouldn't have minded as much, had I known where to start with the assignment, but Biology had never been my forte.

I was still collecting the glass equipment for the experiment, when I realized the rest of the students had already started with theirs. Classic Polly Kin fashion to be behind on everything. Mr Brandy was pacing around the laboratory lazily, and I could feel his gaze darting back to me every now and then, like an eagle eyeing its prey.

Finally, as I was fumbling with one of the glass flasks, he spoke up. "Ms Kin, if your incompetence is what's keeping you from completing the assignment, then I suggest-"

"I'm not incompetent," I defended quickly. Heat crept up my neck and travelled all the way to the tips of my ears. "I'm doing fine."

Everyone's necks snapped in my direction. Prior to that moment, I had never spoken back unless spoken to. I hated attention, but what I hated more was the way Mr Brandy treated me, and I'd had enough of taking it like a good, obedient student.

He arched a curious brow at my response, his upper lip twitching.

"Then I see no reason why you're moving at such a snail pace."

SMASH.

The glass flask I was clutching shattered to pieces. My yelp of pain as one of the shards pierced my skin was lost to the sound of collective gasping. Mr Brandy's eyes goggled in a short-lived moment of horror that was then replaced by pure anger.

"Ms Kin-"

SMASH. Another flask on my lab station shattered as if set off by an invisible mine. SMASH. Then another.

I jerked backwards in shock, my heart racing inside my ribcage. One by one, all the glass equipment in close proximity broke into shards, as though my gaze alone was shooting laser beams at them.

Havoc broke around the lab. Students took off their aprons and goggles hastily and tossed them away without a care in the world before dashing out of the classroom. Whoever was working at one of the lab stations near me scattered away like rats. Someone set off the fire alarm. All this happened in the span of five minutes, but it felt like an entire lifetime. All the while I stood there, clutching my bleeding hand, my chest heaving up and down with each terrified pant.

I turned to Mr Brandy with tears in my eyes. "Mr Brandy, I-I didn't-I didn't mean-"

"Principal's office, Ms Kin!" he hollered. I flinched under his murderous glare. "Right now!"

After that incident, everyone grew wary of me. Instead of thinking of my abilities as 'cool' or 'fascinating,' now the students considered them 'dangerous' and 'crazy.' The friends I made at the beginning of the year drifted away, some more abruptly, while others maintaining a facade of sympathy for a couple more weeks before deciding they'd had enough and fading out of my life as well.

And so, began the insults. The taunting. The pranks. Maybe people thought it was safer to alienate me than ignore me entirely. Maybe they thought the treatment would drive me over the edge, and one day I'd decide I couldn't take it anymore and change schools or drop out. Even the teachers seemed to be doing the most to get me expelled-in their subtle and indirect way, though others, like Mr Brandy, not so much.

But it never happened. I told mom that I could go back to homeschooling as I'd done in elementary, but she insisted that public school would help 'set me straight.' She didn't want me to be isolated and miss out on the normal school experience all teens my age had. If only she knew I'd never had a normal school experience to begin with.

Ignoring the taunts was my only solution to staying out of trouble. Where my abilities came from, I had no clue. They had always been a part of me, like a sixth sense. I couldn't control them, but I had come to realize they got most out of control when I experienced strong emotions.

Negative emotions, like frustration, embarrassment or sadness were followed by unpleasant occurrences. Like the glass breaking in my Biology lab, or the red spider I conjured into existence on Sam Matthews' arm. Positive feelings resulted in more pleasant changes, like the color of my hair from blonde to neon green, or my nail from unpolished to colorful and decorated with tiny moving ornaments.

But thankfully, that hell of a year was finally over and I was now able to enjoy summertime. Although my birthday was coming up, that's not what I was mostly looking forward to. The thing I was so excited about were the Harry Potter marathons I'd surely have every week.

Ever since my mom had read to me the first book of the fantasy series when I was only seven, I'd gotten so engrossed in the story of the wizard boy that I decided to finish the entire series. Then I watched the movies, and it was a life-changing experience to see this world of magic come to life on the screen. No matter how many new books and films I discovered afterwards, somehow I always ended up coming back to Harry Potter. The story had made an impact on me I couldn't quite describe, but there was something about it that didn't feel at all fictional.

Discovering I had unusual powers was one thing, but comparing my story to Harry's and being convinced I'd found a connection was something else. I mean, there was no kid my age who didn't know who Harry Potter was. But there was no kid, however, who was lunatic enough to believe that the whole story could kind of, sort of, maybe not be so made-up after all. No one else who genuinely believed in the existence of magic.

No one else, but me. And that's where it all started.