I sigh as I look into the mirror. Every month, it just keeps getting worse and worse. Even now, the process seems to be speeding up.

Forlorn, I look down at my hands. I can nearly see the smooth wood of the desk I am sitting at through my hands. The transparency of my hands is barely noticeable, though. You could only tell that my body isn't entirely there if you were looking for it, and even then it's hard to tell.

The glass globe sitting on my desk catches my eye, and I reach over and pick it up from my desk. I got this object from my grandmother for my thirteenth birthday. "Keep track of this, love," she'd said, "it will become useful in the future." Grandma's odd like that. She lives in an old victorian house that is filled with random, strange objects that she claims have magical properties. One of her favorites is a necklace with a small hourglass in the middle, and that has two rings that orbit around the center.

As I held the sphere in my hand, something felt off. Like I wasn't really holding it. It felt like I was holding the sphere, but like the sphere would fall through my hand at any moment--like it wasn't stable in my hands.

"Mailee!" I heard my mother call from downstairs. "Dinner is ready!"

"Coming!" I called back. Sighing, I set the orb back down on the desk, and for a split second it glowed like it sometimes did. By now I had gotten used to the purple glow it gave off, so I had just learned to ignore it.

But the first time it had happened, however, I'd been given a real fright. It was November 8th, and it was snowing outside. I'd invited some friends of mine over for my party, as well as my grandmother, Magena, my parents, and my aunt, Marja. Marja had just gotten back from India a week ago to celebrate my birthday with us, here in Ludlow. Marja is very worldly.

In the whole first floor of our home, the air was thick with the festivities. My mother was making strudel in the kitchen, with my grandmother by her side, begging to help in her own way. My father was in the parlor, entertaining my friends with his card and hat tricks. Meanwhile, my aunt was in the drawing room, continuing on writing her book. It was a book of charms and spells, she had told me, and she was planning on calling it just that.

My father and I thought the idea was silly. Charms and spells? Who had heard of such a thing? But whenever we brought it up, my mother would keep her head down and exclude herself from the matter.

I had made my way upstairs and to my room--crowds never really were my type. With the globe in hand, I opened the door to my room and rushed to my desk, eager to see what the globe could do. My grandmother had, after all, said it was an unique object. I had placed it on the desk and crouched down on my knees to see the glass orb at eye level. Enticed, I watched it for a few more moments. Until nothing happened. A little disappointed, I stood up and trudged over to my bed, where I plopped down on it and sighed.

I was staring at the floor when it pulsed. It was a purple light, and I saw it from the corner of my eye. Excitement renewed, I jumped up and rushed over to the desk once again. Unmistakably, the light shone again. I gasped in awe. It was a bright lavender colored glow from the center of the orb, and it was enchanting and almost... magical.

The only other things I remember from that night was that there had been a commotion downstairs. I heard people shouting, chanting nonsensical words. Glass shattering, my friends screams. I had run downstairs to see what was the commotion, only to see my mother fly back and hit her head, hard, on the wall. Her body slid to the floor and my eyes flew up to the source of the disturbance. It was a man. He was tall, and laden in a thick trench coat.

And that's... all I remember. The rest is black from there. I like to imagine that everything just calmed down and I went to bed as normal. My friends went home, my grandmother back to her house. I like to imagine that that's what happened, because it stops the questions from coming. What really happened that night?

But one thing's for certain: the next morning, aunt Marja was missing. Mother didn't know where she was, and neither did father. And grandmother wouldn't speak a word. My family hasn't heard from Marja since.

"Mailee!" my mother snapped me back from reminiscing. "Come downstairs--dinner is ready! And we are expecting a guest!"

"Yes, mother! I'll be right there," I called back and stood up from my desk. Reaching my bedroom door, I made my way downstairs to the parlor.

My mother sent me a sweet smile and I returned it with a thin-lipped one. The table was laden with steak and potatoes, as well as various other fruits. Obviously, this guest was of importance, if mother and father wanted to make such a good impression. Just as I had pulled my seat out to sit down, I heard the shrill ring of the doorbell.

Hello! Thank you for reading this. I'm sorry Newt wasn't in this chapter, but I promise he will be in the next. Vote if you liked