Marty says, 'Picture this; you've always wanted to live in the sea, and one day a genie grants your wish, but instead of turning into a beautiful fish, you're a crab at the bottom of the sea.'

I froze midair, the frying pan just about to make contact with the woman's head, and turned to the person who had just spoken. It was a girl leaning on the doorpost, her arms folded. She had very long legs, and her curly brown hair was tied in a messy bun. In spite of her asking to know what I was up to, her bored stare screamed she couldn't care less. When Uncle Gerald walked in and stood with her, I noticed how much they looked alike.

    "What's going on?" His forehead crinkling, my uncle inquired.

The girl provided an answer before I could. "Sweet old cousin over here was trying to thwack Mom with the frying pan." Just slightly, I could detect the amusement in her eyes, but it disappeared almost immediately, replaced by the bored look. 

    "Oh, dear." The light feminine voice was the woman's. A worried frown was plastered on her face.

    "Awesome!" This time, it was one of the identical twins, who had just appeared at the doorway, that spoke.

    "Is this true?" Uncle Gerald pressed on, an annoyed eyebrow raised.

I would have replied, if I could make any sense of what was happen. Less than a minute ago, I'd been filled with conviction, driven by the purpose of dissolving the threat of the strange woman, but the focus had shifted. I was currently the center of the attention of unfamiliar faces, and I required more time to form a coherent thought. But Uncle Gerald's glare revealed he sought an immediate response.

    "Uh-h-h-h?" It was all that would cross my lips.

    "Uh, ya it is! She was gonna go full karate kicking, ass punching, frying pan samurai, Kung Fu Panda killer mode!" The same twin squeaked, much too enthusiastically. If only I could determine what the excitement was for, then maybe I could concur with or refute her claim.

    "Please don't hurt Mommy." The other little boy was the opposite of his twin. He whimpered, appearing to be in distressed.

Uncle Gerald squinted suspiciously at me. "I suppose you have an acceptable explanation?"

Once again, all eyes were on me, and I felt my breath hitch. What in the world was going on? The diversified array of expressions told me I'd gotten myself into another mess. People only appeared this confused when I'd shocked them, and the shock was rarely ever positive. I'd only been trying to avoid trouble, how was I then in it? And how was I supposed to get out? Uncle Gerald had demanded an explanation, and that sounded like a good place to start.

    "There was something weird going on with her." I began talking earnestly. I wasn't in much control of what I was saying, but I spoke nonetheless. "And you see, the last time I saw something weird, a goblin almost killed me. Then I thought, 'Hey, don't almost die again!' Then I—"

The woman gasped, thus interrupting my babble. "You were almost killed?" She asked.

    "So cool." I couldn't tell which twin commented, but he sounded impressed.

    "Uh-huh." Not given the chance to ponder on the remark, I ignored it, nodding to the woman. "A goblin attacked me, but it's dead now. I thought it was a dream, but it isn't. It's—"

    "Dear, you just said you were almost killed." The woman cut me off again.

    "Yes." I replied matter of factly, but she didn't seem to be satisfied with my answer.

The look she gave me, it was appalled, perhaps even disappointed. There was something I was missing, I knew it —something that was out in the open. It was then I truly realized that last night, I'd come very close to dying. I'd nearly been murdered by a assailant with fast legs and horrifying teeth. Granted, the concept had sunk in the instant I saw the goblin's head, but I only truly understood the meaning now. Goosebumps covered my skin as my heart beat faster. I had actually had a near-death experience.

Refocusing on the woman, I saw that she still regarded me with that puzzled gaze. I was missing something else, something that was more obvious. After several seconds of raking my brain, I finally got it.

    "You don't believe me, do you?" There had been no call to shriek, but I did it anyway. I had to make them understand. The adventure of last night had not been a figment of my imagination. "I swear it's true! Goblins and monsters are real!" Suddenly remembering I needn't speak too lengthily, for I had evidence, I pointed at my knee. "I have the bruises to prove it. You've got to believe me..."

    "Marty."

    "I'm not craz—"

    "Marty!" Uncle Gerald snapped my name very harshly, getting me to shut up. Dumbfounded, I gaped at him. "Your mother didn't tell you, did she?" He'd softened up, his scrutinizing gaze uncomfortably fixed on me.

His question was vague. My mother had told me many things, and I was certain there was plenty she hadn't told me as well. In my current disoriented state, I doubted I could make a correct guess as to what he was referring to. Uncle Gerald had to be more specific. Regardless, if I'd known what he was talking about in the first place, he wouldn't be asking.

    "I don't think so." I settled on a response.

    "Classic." The girl who resembled Uncle Gerald instantly retorted. Nonchalantly, she walked to the refrigerator, took out a bottle of water, and left the kitchen.

    "By God, Prudence!" Uncle Gerald muttered loud enough for me to hear, all while kneading his forehead through gritted teeth. I assumed my reply had not been the one he'd desired. "Of all things to omit." The remark caused me to scowl. What had  he meant by that? I got my answer soon enough.

    "That explains a lot. Thank goodness you're safe." The woman heaved a sigh of relief and clasped her chest. "It's surprising your mother never mentioned the mystic world, but I suppose she had her reasons."

Sadly, the answer was no good, for it proved to be more confusing. I might have heard wrong, but I'd picked out the phrase "mystic world".

    "Meh. Let's go, Oliver." The twin who had been most active commanded, leading his counterpart away. I'd learned a new name.

    "It doesn't add up." Uncle Gerald declared as they crossed him. "You can see this?"

He cupped his palm and miniature fireworks appeared, dancing around his fingers. Entranced, I moved forward to take a closer look. It was no trick. Colorful sparks were genuinely flying out of him. I would have voiced questions, like how that was even possible, but I was too stunned to form words.

    "You can see it." To my dismay, Uncle Gerald closed his palms, bringing the display to an end. "Interesting."

    "Should that be possible?" The woman, who I had by now passed off as his wife, asked.

She picked up the pot on the floor, which had been at her front the time I tried to hit her, and placed it on the gas cooker. She then shifted the stool to a corner of the room.

    "It shouldn't, but we have a rare case here." Uncle Gerald replied, scratching his beard.

Presently, I was so confused, all I could do was listen, and hope someone would find it in their heart to clarify things for me. Uncle Gerald motioned for me to come closer, and walked out of the room. I followed him to a large dining room, adjacent to the kitchen and parlor. Instead of wallpaper, this room was painted dark red. Eight wooden chairs stood around an antique dining table.

    "Sit." Uncle Gerald commanded as he took a seat himself.

I sat opposite him and waited. I didn't have to wait long.

    "Do you believe in magic, Marty?" I was asked.

    "I guess so. I mean... I really wish it's real, but everyone says it isn't."

    "Well, your wish has been granted, because it is. I and my family, including your mother, are part of an order called the mystic world. We are sorcerers—humans who can use magic. There are many others like us, and are in every country of the world, with Maile as our capital."

At first, all I could do was blink. But my lips soon curved into a grin, followed by a giggle.

    "Oh, I get it..." I said lightheartedly. "Your kidding." One scowl from Uncle Gerald told me I was wrong. "You're not kidding."

    "This is not a joke, Martina." He chastised.

    "Wait—you mean—the movies—werewolves—vampires—are true!?" I choked on my words, due to the shock I was passing through.

    "Oh many are absolute rubbish, but for the most part, no."

Never had I been quick at processing information, especially not one as overwhelming as this. I'd just discovered my whole life was a lie, and it called for celebration. The truth was, I'd never fit into the regular world. No matter how hard I tried to blend in, I was called a misfit, and tagged as “weird”. At a point, I'd given up, choosing to accept who I was. But that didn't stop the occasional hateful comments.

    "I can't believe I'm a sorceress!" I squealed.

    "Incorrect. You're a muggle with the Curse of Sight."

A/N:
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