*Content Warning.  Scene of  Panic Attack and Talks of  Of Self Harm*

Alright!" Ian clapped, cracking the air. "So before we get started, let's talk about where magic comes from."

I looked down at my feet and back up to the chipper man. The metal rod prickling my hands. "Um...me?"

He nodded, chuckling. "Well, you're not wrong. It comes out of you. But the source comes from your emotions."

This place is supposed to make me feel better right?

Ian raised his right hand and flicked his thumb. Droplets of water began to pour out from the tip of it. Hovering in the air as they gathered, forming into a small ball. Waves rolling inside of it, crashing into the invisible walls that trapped it.

"Magic is sensitive," Ian explained, his smile softening. His eyes fixating on the ball of water. "It's sheltered inside our bodies. Not knowing what the world is like. Dependent on how we feel to understand what's happening. When we're calm and at peace, it's easy to control."

Ian's right hand flattened and moved to the left. The water in the sphere settled, pouring out from the ball. The running water expanded across his shoulders. The blue jasper liquid was clear enough for my reflection to show up a little. Dirt and grease caked over my face, enough to hide some burn marks. Matted brown hair knotted around my neck to act as a scarf. Scarred mud-brown eyes staring back at me. The reflection churned my stomach the longer I looked at it.

"But when we're distressed." Ian continued, dropping his smile.

He curled his forefinger and the water turned into a sickly green. The surface boiling as needles poked out the surface. The water twitching as it scrunched itself together, squirming as the needles had eaten away the remaining liquid. The needles uncurling itself and showed off its new form. A makeshift lion, baring out its barbed fangs roaring at me. Spurts of the boiling green water dripping off its lower jaw.

A splash of numbness crashed into my palms as I watched the needle lion growled at me. I took a step back as the rest of my body tried to run. My hands gripped themselves around the metal wand. Trying to get the cold surface to wash away the specks of heat building underneath my palm.

"It thinks we're in danger." Ian sighed, watching the creature stomp over his hand. "So it acts on its own. To protect us. Not knowing that the real danger is us. So we have to take care of ourselves. So it knows we're safe."

Ian cracked one of his knuckles and the needle monster froze. The thing fell, turning into a ball of cotton as it rolled into the air. Fading away until nothing was left. Ian looked back at me, flicking on his neutral smile. "Make sense?"

I nodded, wiggling my fingers to regain feeling. "Yeah."

My right hand gripped the wand tighter while my left hand clasped my wrist. Doing all I could to cut off the throbbing veins building underneath the skin.

Ian clapped his hands together, the sound jolting my left hand to let go of my wrist. "Okay! So, first thing I want you to do is take a deep breath."

"W-why?"

"It helps center yourself. You wanna be grounded as much as possible when casting spells. Your fingers are starting to get numb, right?"

My right-hand loosened its grip around the wand. "Yeah..."

"Some people call it 'The build'. Magic is building up inside of you because it's going off what you're feeling. So we gotta breathe out some of that excess so it doesn't explode outside of us. So breathe in...."

I just stared at him as he took in a deep breath. Fire needs oxygen to live. There was barely enough for me to live on.

"I know it looks weird but it helps." Ian laughed. His smile still sincere. "All you gotta do is try. That's all I'm asking."

Still a lot. But I guess I have some to spare. I dropped my hands to my side. The numbness prickling around the center of my palm. Slowly, I breathed in the air. My lungs straining from the amount of expansion they had to make for the new air. I closed my mouth, holding onto the air.

Ian gave an okay sign nodding along. "Alright. Breathe out, slowly."

I did. I had to force myself a couple of times as some of the air tried to rush out. My lungs flexing to keep a steady control going. The numbness that was building in my hands disappeared a little. The dull pricks around my palm were starting to grow. My nerves were alive at least.

Perfect.

I took the end of my thumbnail and stabbed it in my hip. Fresh pain is good enough to wash it away.

"One more time," Ian said.

I clamped down on the inside of my lip before breathing in air through my nose and forced it out my mouth. The release was a little easier to control this time. My lungs were doing their best to push out the sudden new volume. My thumb pulled itself out of my hip and rested in my pocket. The needles settled down. Whatever numb sensation had built up was washed away. Nothing but a cool wave covered my arms and chest.

"Better?"

Some of the muscles in my lip twitched to do something. Flex into something that curled up on my face. But I grinded my teeth into the inside of my lip to stop it.

"I think." I shrugged, my grip around the wand lax. The cold metal tapping gently against my knee.

"Good!" Ian cheered. "So next step, we're gonna do some basic magic. Nothing complicated. Just your really basic stuff. So what I need you to do is raise your wand."

I snuck in a long breath before doing so. My fingers gently wrapping themselves around the grip. Letting the cool rush seep into the corners of my body.

"What do I do now?" I asked. "Say abra-cadabra?"

"You can if you want." Ian shrugged. "But I don't recommend saying it backward. It's a pretty nasty curse."

What now?

"What you do is focus on the tip of the wand. And I want you to imagine that there's sparks coming out of it. It can be any color you want. Just gentle sparks. Remember to breathe, okay?"

I muttered something under my breath as I stared at the end of it. Shoveling out air as it settled in the pit of my stomach. Doing the best I could to imagine sparks that couldn't catch something on fire. That wouldn't sear flesh. That would be cold.

Snow? Snowflakes sparks, that would be nice. They could melt away as soon as they touch something. Not harming anyone if someone was to wander in and brush against them.

Suddenly, something came out of the end of the wand. Little embers floating out of it, dancing around the air like....snow.

The embers around the tip were snowflakes. Floating around the air as they glided to the ground. There was no abrupt heat washing over my face. My skin wasn't crawling back to getaway. No numbness to hide under.

It was all out there. Not hurting anyone.

"Awesome!" Ian cheered, watching the fire snow dance around the air. "That's so cool!"

I couldn't help but smile. For once it wasn't hurting anyone. It felt pretty good. It actually felt assuring. I wasn't a danger.

....But that's only this time.

What about the next time? Will I have the wand to plug up the rest of the fire? Will some slip out? It has to. It wants to live, so it's gonna do what it has to do to survive. It always finds a way, it doesn't matter. It's gonna burn through in the end. So what's the point? It'll get worse the more I clog it up like this. Then people will get hurt. They'll die.

My chest let out a spasm. A cold chain lassoed around my ribcage and tightened itself around it. Crushing my lungs. Squeezing out the remaining air. The numbness flooding back into my hands. Making them buzz under the grip of the wand. The snow embers erupted out, growing into pillars of flames that hit the ceiling. The familiar painful wave of heat washed over my skin as I crumbled to the ground. My chest heaving as the scent of burnt clothes and hair flooded my nose. The faint sounds of screams scratching at the back of my ears.

I wanted to scream. But I couldn't. I was too busy sucking in the air that vomited out from my lungs.

I want to die. But I can't. These flames won't let me.

I hate you, Meril.

There was silence in the room. The sounds of the fire crackling and snapping was gone. I expected Ian to chew me out. For much of a fuck-up I've been. To tell me to leave. But nothing.

Just silence.

I don't like it. At least make some kind of noise. An awkward cough. A smug sniff. A disappointed sigh. Something. Anything. Just say something.

"I think we're done for the day," Ian said softly. "You did good for your first time."

Why aren't you shouting at me? Stabbing me with guilt? That's not how this goes.

"Why don't I make you some tea? Ian's got some that's ported from England that's pretty good."

I just nodded, a small lump choking the back of my throat. In the corner of my eye, I saw his hand reach down. I grabbed it and pulled myself up. Ian's full smile was demoted to a half-smile.

Not a twinge of shame or hatred on his face. What kind of magic does that?

I followed him out of the dark burnt cement room and back to the home hallway. Voices coming from the living room. All speaking mournfully and quiet. Once we got into the room there was a circle of people sitting where the card table was. Some had their head downs dabbing their eyes with tissues. While others had their heads up, listening as one of them talk about something.

Nikki was there, listening and nodding along as she glanced up at me. I didn't shiver. Those cold white eyes did nothing to me this time. I was too busy being burned alive to feel anything at this point. She turned her eyes to the ground shifting in her seat as she let out a cough.

Wonder what she saw that time?

Ian led me to the backyard of the kitchen. Outside the air felt cool against my hot skin. The sky was bright and cloudless. The backyard was bigger than I thought. It had enough room for a patio. Three thick trees that had a variety of fruits hanging on the end of branches. And a garden with an assortment of dark leaves, bright-looking vegetables, and flowers.

Andy was standing in the middle of it. Studying the plants and plucking some that poked out of the ground. His hoodie off showing off thin arms and I think scars on the edges of wrist and neck. A tattoo of a blue lotus on the back of his neck.

From the looks of it, the garden wasn't trying to kill anyone. It looked like it was at peace. The garden and Andy. Glad someone in here could be happy.

I plopped myself on one of the chairs on the patio. The muscles in my legs and arms giving up. Air was slowly circulating back into my lungs. The veins in my neck beating softly underneath my skin.

So how am I still alive?

"Do you like honey in yours?" Ian asked.

I shook my head. My vocal cords entangling themselves. Keeping my voice locked up.

"Hey, Andy," Ian called. "Where'd you put the tea?"

"I think it's in the pantry," Andy replied, plucking a tomato and putting it in one of the bags next to him.

"Okay!" Ian looked back at giving me a thumbs up. "I'll be right back."

I barely nodded. Moving my eyes over to the garden. Watching Andy slowly moving from one plant to the other. Listening to Ian walk away and shut the door. And silence came back. Gnawing on the air around us. I was ready to slice out my skin and pull out my veins. Maybe then I'll lose the fire.

"Doing okay, Meril?" Andy asked, cracking the silence away.

"Nope," I grumbled, digging my nails into my wrist.

"That's okay. How the magic training go?"

I lifted my head, letting out a laugh. Showing off the metal wand that was still clutched in my right hand. Giant beads of tears rolling down my cheeks. My throat quivering and twisting like a dead fish.

"Just get it over with it." I cried, my throat tightening. "Just fucking kill me. I came here cause I had nowhere to go. Cause I found out I was a witch so I thought that would change something. But I'm still a freak! I can make snowflakes but it's still fire. It can still burn someone. It can still kill someone. But it can't kill me. It fucks everything but not me. I can't even kill myself cause the stupid fire thinks I'm in danger and goes ahead and fucking burns everything to stop me from doing it! I can't-I-I-I-"

My throat and chest was spasming. Air was leaking out and my lungs were collapsing in on itself. The strands of muscles in my arms were tightening. Constricting all blood flow. My heart violently vibrating against my rib cage. The build seeping into my fingers. Prickling all of the nerves at the end of my fingertips

I waited for the fire to come. I waited for it to burst out from the ground around me and spew its flame. But it didn't come. What did come was something soft and cool brushing up against my leg. I look down to see an orange, standing on spider legs made out of vines. Butting itself gently until the vines popped off. The heaving and buzzing in my chest lessened as I just stared at the fruit and back to Andy.

"You wanna help me peel the oranges?" He asked, holding up a basket full of oranges.

I put down the hand with the wand. The grip loosening to the point where it rolled down to the ground. My face still staring at Andy, confused by his request.

"They make really great orange juice." Andy continued.

What's the worst that could happen?

"Sure." I nodded, letting go of my wrist.

Dark, purple impressions of my nails cut into my skin. I picked up the orange and rolled it in my hands. Andy walked over to one of the spare chairs and sat down. Placing the basket between us. He grabbed something out of his pocket and sprinkled what looked like dirt on the coffee table. I couldn't make out some of the words being muttered under his breath. The dirt glowed a dull blue and vines started to bud out. Growing as if nature had quickly flipped through the pages. The vines weaving themselves until they formed a bowl.

I glanced back up at Andy who gave back a small smile. Peeling the orange with ease, quickly trading peeled oranges for regular.

"Did you make all of this?" I asked, wiping away a few stray tears.

"Yup." Andy nodded. "Took a few tries to get it right. But looks pretty good."

"Not gonna I'm kinda jealous," I said, slowly peeling the orange skin. "Being able to make things like this. All I can do is burn crap. You're pretty lucky."

Andy kept quiet. Staring at third peeled orange as he tossed the skin away. The skin turning into petals as they danced to the ground. Something flickered behind his eyes. The small smile on his lips looked cracked.

"You're right." Andy nodded. "In some ways I am lucky. Compared to other magicians, this is a beautiful magic. But...."

Andy's eyes darkened. The small smile on him disappeared. The orange petals flew away into one of the trees in the back. Burrowing into the ground.

"To some, my magic is considered dangerous." he continued.

I raised an eyebrow, watching his face darkening. "You? Dangerous?"

Andy huffed out a laugh. His face brightening a little. "Yeah, I know. But you saw what my garden could do yesterday. And if I really tried I could cover the entire block with my plants."

"Really?"

"Yup. Botomancy is old magic so it's considered dangerous compared to some schools. It can create and destroy. It all depends on the person using it. But I think your magic is beautiful too."

I couldn't help but snort a shot of air. Nothing beautiful about it. What's so beautiful about burn marks and ashes?

"Yeah right," I muttered.

"It is." Andy continued, his voice sounding way too sincere. It can't be real. "Fire is a powerful thing. It provides warmth. It can create stuff just by touching it. Without it, we'd probably wouldn't be where we are. It can create things just as much as it can destroy. Just like my magic. We just need to find the right way to use it. You've been running on instincts with no help from anyone. That alone is an accomplishment. It's a giant victory. It means you're alive. I know it doesn't seem like it now. But it is. I'll hold onto that for you until you're ready."

The tangled mess in my throat dropped. Letting a river of tears roll down my cheeks. Some staining my dirty shirt. A few landing the half-peeled orange I started with. My body shaking as soft cries escaped my mouth.

"Th-thanks." I sobbed, wiping away the tears.

Andy nodded, handing over a napkin that appeared in his hand. "No problem."

I let a smile come out, taking the napkin. Magic is weird. I used it to wipe away the remaining tears and blow my nose.

"Everything okay?"

I turned my head around to see Ian standing there. Switching his glance from my runny face to Andy. A mixture of worry and concern building up on his forehead. His hands holding two coffee cups with steam dancing out of them,

"Yeah," Andy answered, his face brightening up quickly. "Just a talk and a release."

Ian eyed Andy for a second then nodded, resuming his smile. "Okay. Was it a good one?"

"Um, I think?" I shrugged, taking one of the tea. "Thanks."

"No problem!" Ian nodded sitting on a wicker bench across from us.

"Hey, what was going on in the living room?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, that was a support group. We got a bunch of them running around here. All for different kinds of stuff."

"What was that one for?"

There was a weighted pause from Ian. He looked like he was biting down on his lips as he tapped on the side of his cup. Andy let out a cough shifting in his chair as he tried to focus on his orange peeling. Ian shot a glance over at Andy with a worried look. Andy nodded, a solemn expression crackling over his face.

After a couple of seconds, Ian let out a sigh. His shoulder dropped as he glanced back over to me. The smile wiped off.

"To quit and lose their magic," Ian answered.