"Normal is an illusion. What is normal for the spider is chaos for the fly."

The moon had slipped between the clouds, limiting all sources of light that night. Twyla Goodwin and Tommy Young, stumbled through the forest hand in hand, tripping over broken branches and forgotten stumps as they went. Occasionally, a strange noise would be heard from the shadows, causing their stomachs to twist with anxiety but they both chose to ignore it. Afterall, they were kids- nothing bad could possibly happen to them.

Tommy had been warned about Twyla numerous times. Luna Goodwin's evil twin was practically an urban legend in New Brooks. She hadn't been seen in public since first grade, and Tommy had begun to forget what she looked like. In the early hours of day when Tommy's slumber usually became restless, a small voice would whisper her name in the back of his mind. He envisioned that she would like one of those lost princesses with yards of hair and a dazzling smile. In reality, she didn't look anything like his vision. Her ebony hair cascaded down her shoulders in loose curls. She had sharp features, that contrasted greatly with her baby-faced twin. The only thing dazzling about her were her peculiar silver eyes that bared a striking resemblance to diamonds.

"Where are you taking me?" Tommy asked as she led him through the trees in a zigzag formation.

Twyla hadn't said much the entire night. When he crept away from Luna's slumber party to find the mysterious Goodwin girl- he had found her curled in a ball in the corner of the attic, reading a thick leather bound book. She didn't say anything when he walked in. Instead, she tilted her head to the side as if to silently question why he was in her room. The answer was simple, he wanted to see if she was really as dangerous as people claimed. Twyla responded by standing up, grabbing his arm and pulling him out of her room. The only time she spoke, was when Tommy was practically shouting questions to her in the hall. She told him to shut up. If her mother found him with her, she would be sent away. There were so many questions in Tommy's mind. Be sent away? Where? Twyla never answered him. She showed him the back entrance to their house, and quietly crept outside with him following in tow.

"You really need to stop talking," Twyla muttered so quietly Tommy couldn't have been sure she actually spoke at all.

"Why?" Tommy questioned in a whisper-yell, causing Twyla to wince. "What's so wrong with talking?"

She didn't respond, again. Twyla kept her thoughts to herself knowing that there was a high price to be paid if she were to talk. If she let her mouth run there was a chance she could let a secret escape and her mother couldn't have that. Twyla was trying her best not be sent away and the only way she could accomplish that was to keep quiet and control the demon. Talking about the demon, often freed it from its restraints. Even thinking about it could trigger an accident, so Twyla shook her head and put the demon out of mind.

"Here," Twyla said.

They escaped the labyrinth of a forest and stumbled into a small clearing. Twyla released Tommy's sweaty palm. Her eyes scanned the lot quickly before a relieved smile touched her lips.

"We can talk here," she told him, "Nobody'll hear us."

Nobody would have heard them ten yards ago, Tommy thought to himself. He would have told her that but he got the distinct impression that he shouldn't challenge her. She was very intimidating. But not evil- like everyone claimed. Evil people were killers, or thieves- or anyone who went to prison. Little girls who spent all day reading, didn't exactly fit Tommy's mental image of 'evil'.

"Why are you afraid of someone hearing us?" Tommy asked.

"I told you already," Twyla sighed exasperatedly, "My mom will send me away. She doesn't me out of the house or in public for that matter- where other people are."

"But why? Is it because of your dad?"

Rumors in New Brooks spread like a wildfire. When Richard Goodwin died of a heart attack, it took nearly two hours before the entire town was convinced that Twyla had something to do with it. Tommy didn't believe in any of the rumors. Gossip was a girl hobby, he had no business taking part of it. But his curious mind still wondered if she was somehow involved.

Twyla didn't say anything a for moment. She closed her eyes and curled her hands into fists. Control, she told herself. The key to freedom was control. Gathering all of her strength, Twyla managed to put her anger to the side. Her mother had been teaching her to take deep calming breaths whenever she got angry. Apparently, by exhaling she was releasing all of her negative energy. Twyla didn't really believe that but one way or another the breathing calmed her.

"Yes," she responded in a bleak voice.

Tommy didn't notice the change in her tone. He was completely oblivious to how vulnerable the previously strong girl seemed. Instead, his mind was wrapped around the word that she said. Yes. Was it an admittance? Did she really kill her own father? Fear and excitement traveled through Tommy's system like an electrical shock.

"Y-you killed him?" Tommy questioned.

"It was an accident," Twyla's voice became pleading. She needed there to be at least one person who could understand. "He had a heart attack, like the doctor said, but I accidentally was the cause of it."

"How do you accidentally give someone a heart attack?" Tommy took a step away from her.

Twyla winced as she watched Tommy cower in fear. He looked like an autumn leaf, shaking in the wind. The boy who had been so happy and excited to go on an adventure with her, was suddenly rethinking his decision. Twyla knew she needed to act fast before he ran back home to join the anti-Twyla club. Over the past three years that club had grown in size from only her twin sister, Luna, to almost the entire town.

"I'm not normal Tommy. I can do things you would never believe," Twyla started.

"L-like what?" Tommy stuttered.

Though fear had taken hold of his actions, leaving him a squabbling mess, a smidgen of curiosity managed to wedge its way inside his mind. Being a child, kept him from realizing the severity of his situation. Perhaps if he were older, Tommy would have had more reservations about following a potentially dangerous girl, into the forest- late at night- where there no known witnesses.

Feeling secure, in the hidden clearing, Twyla threw her inhibitions to the wind and picked up a leaf. She thought they were safe. That nobody was around for miles but she was wrong. No more than ten feet away from them, stood a figure lurking in the shadows. The figure stared at Twyla's petite, chubby fingers with a ravenous hunger- waiting for her to confirm their suspicions.

Twyla held one hand under the leaf- the other hand held the edge of the stem. For a fraction of a second, Twyla eyed Tommy. She knew he was a fairly open minded person but there was always a small chance he would faint on her. Luna had done that a few times in the past. It was incredibly inconvenient. Moving as slowly as possible, Twyla removed her fingers from the edge of the stem. The leaf didn't fall. Instead, it hovered above her palm.

A moment of absolute silence stretched between the two. Tommy stared at the leaf, enchanted by Twyla's trick. Whereas Twyla, stared at Tommy- still hoping he didn't pass out on her. When Tommy didn't run away screaming from small display of magic, Twyla grew confident. Using her one free hand, she called forward a powerful surge of magic. In a synchronized motion, every single red and yellow leaf on the ground levitated in the air.

Not able to help himself, Tommy reached out and touched one of the leaves. There was no string, he registered, and there was no wind. His eyes enlarged to the size of golf balls when the truth dawned on him. The leaves were really levitating- it was magic.

"What are you?" Tommy asked, his voice was filled with wonder.

Releasing a shaking breath, Twyla prepared herself to break her mother's biggest rule- revealing the truth.

"I'm a witch."

There it was.

The reason why Twyla stopped going to school. The reason why she was confined to her room. And The reason why her mother was threatening to send her away. Twyla Goodwin was a witch. An absolute freak of nature.

Tommy opened his mouth to ask a question, one of many that were circling through his mind. But the words died on his tongue as an eerie feeling crept into his bones. Something was wrong. A swirling, grey, mist emerged from the trees. Gusts of violent wind blew Twyla's leaves into a miniature tornado. Twyla involuntarily released a strangled noise from her throat as she lost control of the leaves.

"Are you doing this?" Tommy called over the wind.

Twyla shook her head. The wind and the mist was most certainly not her doing. She could barely lift a pile of leaves, let alone conjure a dark mist from thin air. The mist grew in size, until it towered over the treetops. Grabbing each other's quivering hands, Twyla and Tommy held on to each other for dear life as the shapeless mist manifested into two large hands.

The hands descended upon the petrified pair. Twyla was the first to gather her wits. She untangled her body from Tommy's and pushed him to the side. Motivated by fear, Twyla ran as far from the hands as possible, leaving Tommy to fend for himself. She made a flippant gesture with her hands, as she reached the treeline. The mist disappeared, giving her small opening to crawl through. Her eyes flickered to Tommy. His mouth was opened wide as bloodcurdling screams erupted from his throat. The mist enveloped his body before Twyla could even think about going back.

Years later, that image of Tommy screaming for help would still plague her mind.

She ran away. Tripping over branches and stumps as she went. All the animals had made themselves scarce. The mist crawled through the forest floor, nipping at the back of Twyla's heels. Her speed increased when the light from her house came into view. For the first time since she was six, Twyla actually wanted to be locked away in her room. A sigh of relief escaped her lips as the white colonial manor came into view. The Goodwin manor was a colossal structure, made entirely of wood and stone from the seventeenth century. The house was in incredible shape for being nearly four hundred years. Mold still lingered in the corners of rooms, vines grew restlessly across the length of the house and cracks were forming in the stone steps- but the elegance of the Goodwins' overshadowed all of its flaws. Leaning against the frame of the French doors, Celeste Goodwin watched her daughter run towards the house alone, with a murderous look on her withered face.

"M-mist," Twyla panted as she reached the patio.

She wanted to explain to her mother what happened but she found her tongue incapable of working. Fear seized hold of her body, leaving her a frozen statue in front of her mother. Celeste didn't need an explanation. Like always, she already knew what had transpired. And, there was no way she was going to let it happen again.

"The mist took Tommy!" Twyla cried, knowing how crazy she sounded. "I didn't mean for this to happen, please believe me. It wasn't my fault!"

Celeste already knew that poor Tommy Young had been taken. She just wasn't sure what- or to be more precise- who, had taken him. Her eyes flickered from her panicked daughter to the forest. Hiding between a thick tree trunk and two overgrown shrubs was a shadowy figure. The figure was standing a good twenty yards from the house but they could hear every word that was said. Without wasting another second, Celeste grabbed Twyla's arm and pulled her inside the house. Twyla was in hysterics. She was crying, begging, pleading all at once.

Luna's slumber party had been moved from the parlor to her bedroom when Celeste noticed that Tommy and Twyla were both gone. All of the kids were strictly told not to leave- but upon hearing the dreadful screams of her older sister, Luna slipped away from the party and crept down the stairs. She ran back into the parlor, ducked behind the couch and waited. Celeste was too busy trying to calm Twyla, that she didn't notice the little spy.

"Go upstairs, Twyla. Pack your things, we're leaving tonight," Celeste ordered.

Twyla's cries abruptly stopped. Her eyes were wide with disbelief, the breath in her chest stilled. There were no thoughts in her mind, she was completely frozen and overtaken by fear and grief. The house began to to shake. Every piece of priceless porcelain came crashing to the ground. The windows shattered and spewed broken shards of glass throughout the entry room. Luna gasped, and threw her hands over her head. The quake ended as soon as it had begun, broken fragments were left strewed across the floor. For once, Celeste didn't scold Twyla for her reckless behavior. That was how Twyla knew she was serious, pher mother didn't even care enough to yell at her. A fresh wave of tears poured down her cheeks with that realization.

Sighing, Celeste pulled her daughter into a tight hug. Tears dripped on her favorite silk blouse. The shirt was forever ruined, much like her family. One day Twyla would understand, Celeste promised herself. She would see that Celeste was only trying to protect her. And even if Twyla never forgive her, she would at least be alive.

They would never get her so long as Celeste was alive.

** Hello Darkness my old friend I've come to talk with you again.... Oh boy, I hope you guys are ready for another adventure because this one is going to be a doozy. I started getting ideas for this book back in September but I kept pushing it off until the Nox Haven Series was finished. I've really taken the time to let this story fester in my mind so both Twyla and Luna are very important to me. I can't wait for you guys to get to know the both of them. If you've read the Nox Haven Series, then you know who the Celestial Sisters once were, so I'm hoping things will be less confusing for you guys until everything is fully explained. This book can also be read as a stand alone though. Please tell me what you guys think of the prologue, I'm really interested in hearing your feedback.

Thank you guys for reading another one of my books, I really appreciate your support.
XOXO,
Ro.**