Mag·ic: /'majic/

Noun

the power of apparently influencing the course of events by using mysterious or supernatural forces.

synonyms: sorcery, witchcraft, enchantment, the blacks arts, voodoo, hoodoo, Shamanism, occultism, the supernatural

Ex: "do you believe in magic?"

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She had been a surprise. Hidden behind her sister, and her mother's ribs, small and still. She had gotten a third of the room, a third of the nutrients, a third of everything else babies need to survive in the womb. She was born much to tiny, much too still, much too blue…

She died moments after she was born to a mother who was simultaneously having the best and worst day of her life, a mother who held one crying baby in her left arm and a bundle of what could have been in her right.

She was only given a few moments with her children before she was made to pass them over to the doctor who had helped her birth them. Grayson Gilbert. The man who would be taking her beautiful burdens, burying one and raising the other.

Isobel mourned that fact, and so fled that night, thinking it better for everyone involved.

She never looked back. She never saw Miranda Gilbert's eyes light up with unbridled joy as little Elena gripped her finger with a chubby hand. She was not there when the couple jumped in fright at the sound of a baby, a baby that was not the one they had already grown to love, scream and cry from the next room. She did not know that her second child, just as small, just as blue, but no longer as still, had breathe still in her.

(And she wouldn't until many years later)

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Ramona was a quiet child. After the night of her birth and the wailing and sobbing of the next four days, she hardly ever made a sound. When she needed to be fed or nature had called she'd whimper pitifully. When she wanted attention she'd scratch at whatever was closest to her until long willowy arms encased her in their warmth. She wasn't as willful as Elena, but she was awake much more often and, though her sight had yet to develop, her glazed eyes were always trying to take in the world around her.

That she was a quiet child was not what concerned the Gilbert's. It was to be expected after the behavior of her infantism and, later, toddler hood.

No, it was that all of a sudden, on the day of her fifth birthday, she began to talk.

After giving no signs of being able to speak, let alone understand the words they were trying to teach her, she just… talked.

They were at the dinner table, her parents, her sister, and her three year old brother, supper already put away and done with, all enjoying slices of a small chocolate birthday cake, when Ramona turned to her sister and told her she was being stupid.

(In Ramona's defense, Elena had been going on and on and on about how the sky was blue because it was the fairy Queen's favorite color and that the fairy King painted it so as a present.)

Before her parents could get over their shock and scold her, Ramona began an in depth explanation on light reflection and sight perception and Grayson and Miranda Gilbert were shocked silent for the second time in the span of a minute.

When asked how she knew about it she answered:

"Aunt Jenna read it to me once."

When asked why she never spoke up before, she answered:

"I didn't really have anything I wanted to say."

It was concerning to say the least, but in the way she seemed to curl into herself and the slight trembling of her hands, her parents knew not to push the subject and just accept their daughter would tell them when she wanted to, if at all. If they saw the relieved exhale from Ramona, they did not comment on it and continued the night as if nothing had happened.

(Ramona would never say it, but that day, her love for her parents grew twenty times over.)

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After that, the reserved continence that was Ramona was no more. Her face was open with annoyance and superior disinterest. Her tongue was light and quick to burn. She used her enhanced vocabulary and knowledge to put those years older than her to shame.

She was a verbal menace to all, but her family… and her Aunt Jenna loved it.

"She doesn't even use any bad words! She just… tears into you, like a raptor." Jenna's eyes grew as wide as her smile.

Miranda shook her head, a soft tilt to her lips, "She thinks those words are beneath her. If she has to use them, she feels like she's already lost." Her smile grew as she finished chopping up some carrots for dinner and slid them into a waiting bowl, "Ramona hates losing."

Jenna pushed herself of the counter she was leaning her hip against, "God, I can't wait until she's older. She's going to destroy anyone who comes near her. Probably, leave a trail of broken hearts in her wake."

"That won't be for a while if I have any say about it," Miranda scowled.

"It's Ramona. I doubt you will."

Before Miranda could flick her sister for having such a satisfied look about her at the statement, the front door opened and the sound of small feet pattering across the wooden floors could be heard. "Honey, we're home," was called as Grayson Gilbert and his three children entered the kitchen.

"Welcome home," Miranda responded into the kiss her husband gave her.

A small "Ew, gross," could be hear from the youngest of Gilberts. Aunt Jenna couldn't help, but agree.

It wasn't that she didn't like Grayson. He was a good man and anyone with eyes could see he loved his wife dearly, but every time Jenna saw them together she couldn't help her stomach flipping and shoulders tensing. She couldn't hell averting her eyes and clenching her hands into fists. It was the jealousy creeping over her.

She didn't want Grayson. She wasn't even mad he had married her sister and whisked her away. It was just that every time she saw how happy they were, in their perfect little house with their perfect little family, she saw every way she needed to catch up.

Yes, she was only eighteen and, yes, she wasn't even in college yet, but she still wasn't even at the starting point. Every guy she'd dated turned out to be a bust, she had no idea what major she wanted to study, and she was pretty sure the only house she could afford was a shack, and even then she would have to make payments for, like, six years.

She hated feeling that way, she hated being so petty. She knew if it was the other way around Miranda would only have happiness for her. God, why did she have to be so damn-

A small hand slipped into hers before her thoughts could bury her any deeper. Jenna looked down at her little niece, all chubby cheeks and frowns, and her heart warmed. "What's up, Buttercup?"

Dull green eyes gazed up into her for a few moments before Ramona gave their arms a light swing, "Tell me about the eating habits of an adolescent fruit bat."

Jenna smiled.

She may not have much yet, but, she guessed, for now, being Aunt Jenna could be enough.

(It was.)

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Elena was pretty sure her sister was an alien. Or some kind of face copying monster that was still new to face copying, cause her eyes were brown while Ramona's were green and her hair was dark while Ramona's was a cross between chocolate and the wood from the kitchen table. Her mom called it 'pine', but Elena was pretty sure wood came from trees not this 'pine' stuff.

"But mommy, Matty says people bring the wrong baby home all the time! Who would be able to tell if one of those babies happened to be an alien?" Elena was insistent, today she would finally get her mother to listen, she had to.

"Oh yeah," she asked, running a comb through her daughter's soft, wet locks. She had just gotten out of the bath, Ramona getting in right after her, this was the only chance she had to talk to her mother alone. Without the alien making scary faces at her from behind her mother's back. "And where did Matty learn that?"

"20/20. He watches it with his mommy. Matty is very grown up." The right kind of grown up, where he was smart and nice and taught Elena things, not the alien kind of grown up, where Elena got called names and words she didn't know the meanings to.

(Alien language was not something she knew after all.)

"Wow, that is very grown up," Miranda said, rolling her eyes.

The action was lost on Elena. "See! Matty knows what he's talking about!" Finally, finally her mommy was understanding! "So?"

"So what," Miranda scrunched her brows in confusion.

Elena sighed in exasperation. "So! What are you going to do about it?"

The question only served to confused Miranda further. "Do about what, sweetheart?"

"Ramona being an alien sent from space to eat our brains!"

"I think you're confusing aliens and zombies, honey."

"Mooooommyyyyy," Elena whined.

"Okay, okay."

"So you'll do something about it?"

"Hm, no."

"But but!" Elena couldn't understand. She had the facts! Her case had been concrete and the evidence indisputable. How could her mother-?

"Listen to me, Elena," her mother's voice was soft and her long, manicured fingers came up to cup her cheeks. "Ramona is… different. And sure, she may be a bit alien." At the admittance, Elena's mouth opened to agree and shout her victory, but she was interrupted by her mother tapping her nose with her own, "But she is still Ramona Gilbert, your sister and a member of this family, and one day you will be very thankful of that fact."

Elena wasn't so sure of that, but she let the matter go when Ramona walked into the room wrapped up in a fluffy pink towel and looking like a drowned cat. One day her mother would understand the gravity of their situation and Elena swore she would not stop until she did.

…

She was never given the chance, because a couple days later her mother's words rung true as mothers' words tended to do.

She was playing ball in the house. She knew she shouldn't be, but it was raining and she was seven now, she knew how to control the ball much better than she did went she was little.

Or so she thought.

Just a few bounces in and the ball had hit the corner of the living room table and ricocheted straight over to the fire place mantle, bringing all the pictures, knick knacks, and her mother's favorite flower vase tumbling to the floor with a crash.

Elena felt the blood drain out of her face. What was she going to do? Her mommy and daddy were going to be furious. She'd be lucky if they just took her ball away, but… But that was her mommy's favorite vase, daddy had given it to her for their anniversary last year and her mommy had cried she was so happy with it. She had make a terrible, horrible mistake and now her mommy and daddy were going to hate her forever…

She began to sniffle.

"What's wrong with you?" Just as always, the alien's voice was mean and Elena could already feel her tears increasing. Great, just great. She was already feeling bad enough as it was, she didn't need Ramona there to tell her how dumb she was and how she deserved what she got for breaking the rules. The only thing worse than having Ramona there would be if-

"What happened?!"

-her parents saw what she had done.

Her mommy and daddy stood in the middle of the living room taking in the mess, there frowns deepening and deepening until: "my vase!" Her daddy crossed his arms over his chest as her mommy leaned down to pick up the glass.

"What happened," Grayson asked in a low warning tone, promising a quick and painful punishment for any signs of a lie.

Elena froze. She didn't know how to answer. Couldn't even if she did.

"Well," her daddy half growled.

Elena couldn't. They would hate her. They'd kick her out of the family and make she leave and she'd have to live outside and she'd never see her friends or Jeremy or anyone ever again and-

"It was me." The voice was strong and came from the last person in the world Elena expected it to come from.

Ramona.

"Ramona," Miranda questioned from her place on the floor. "Why...?"

Ramona didn't blink. "I though I could make the ball go where I wanted based on the angle and position it was thrown from. From my hands to the banister to the table to the mantle and back into my hands. I was wrong. It hit the corner of the table and shot off center a couple degrees to the vase. I forgot to take into account the decrease in velocity. I'm sorry."

Her parents didn't know how to react. Ramona had never broken the rules before. At least not the rules that she agreed with, anyway. And when had Ramona ever played with a ball? Even for any of her experiments?

Miranda tried very hard not to let her frown waver. "Are you sure that's what happened, Ramona," she asked, just to be sure. Grayson looked at between his two daughters, one who was wide eyed and biting her lip, and the that was speaking as if about the weather.

There was a small second of hesitation, but the moment was covered by a firm nod. "Yes," Roman's clenched her hands into fists, "I'm sure."

"Okay." All tension left Grayson's body as he brought a hand up to massage his temples. "You're grounded. No TV for two weeks. Not even the Discovery Channel or Animal Planet."

At the last bit, Ramona pursed her lips, but nonetheless nodded again. "That's fair."

Her father raised a brow and let a chuckle pass his lips. "Glad you agree. Now go upstairs while your mother and I clean this mess up." He turned to get a broom from the kitchen, "and make sure to watch your step."

Both girls quickly fled the scene

Ramona questioning her sanity.

(Lapse in judgement, she's human, some mistakes can be excused.)

Elena confused and relieved and sososo thankful.

Maybe it wasn't so bad having an alien for a sister…

(Even if she did think it was a little scary that Ramona knew exactly what happened and how it happened when she wasn't even in the room when it happened.)

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Chapter end.