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Prologue

Alexandria Serine doesn’t take crap from anyone. When she gets it, she gives it right back. However, there’s a reason for that. Alexandria has magic. But she doesn’t cast spells or anything like that, no, all she has to do is snap her fingers and whatever she wants to happen happens. She literally lives a charmed life.  So, when less fortunate people, or, people who are just plain old bitches, cross paths with Alexandria, she decides to step in and help them. Things go fine, until one particular person decides to screw with Alex.  Oh, whoever messes with her, they have no idea what they’ve gotten themselves into.

Enchanting Isn't It?

The bar life was entertaining–sometimes. It was entertaining when people got drunk off their asses and began cabbage-patching on top of the bar, it was entertaining when idiots attempted to flirt with me, and it’s entertaining when the bartender gives me free drinks while simultaneously trying to get me to go home with him. Yes, that was entertaining.

 

But it isn’t entertaining when sluts start flaunting their nonexistent goods in front of my face, telling me to come at them if I have a problem with them being hotter than me. Ha, well, I have a news flash for them. Godzilla is hotter than them. Anyone is hotter than them. So bitch, just shut the hell up, because you have no idea what the word “reality” means.

 

God, people like that just got on my nerves. And you do not want to be on Alexandria Serine’s bad side, because you’ll pay for it. Suddenly, a girl named Cassie jumped up out of her bar stool, downing a shot of tequila, and suddenly beginning to dance in front of me, grinning like a fool. Damn it, she was blocking my view of the dancers. Some of them were actually quite skilled, and I enjoyed watching them perform.

 

I scowled at Cassie, whose grin just widened, seeming to think people were enjoying her little show. Ugh, seriously? Annoyed and done with this, I eyed the beer I had been drinking, hid my hand behind my ear and tugged my earlobe discretely. The glass immediately tipped over, spilling the alcohol Cassie’s way.

 

The stupid girl was too busy dancing to notice the mess, which she promptly slipped on and then fell onto the floor, moaning and holding her head. I looked over her quickly in assessment. No blood, no foul. With a grin, I got up and slipped through the crowd, exiting out the front door.

 

Well, I guess I might as well come right out with it and tell you what I am before you try to figure it out on your own and guess wrong or hear from someone else that I’m some insane bitch who makes bad things happen to people. Because I don’t always make bad things happen to people, trust me, whatever happens to them it’s for their own good. Cassie was making a complete fool of herself, and she would regret it in the morning. But back to me, what am I?

 

I’m a witch. Now, don’t act so surprised. What did you think I was? Human? Ha ha, no. I’m not human. I can change the way I look whenever I please, kind of like a shapeshifter but not really.

 

At the moment, I had scarlet curls down to my waist, and emerald green eyes. I was wearing a black corset and plaid red skirt with thigh high elevator boots, making loud clicking sounds as I walked through the parking lot of the club.

 

In my natural form I was about 5’4”, with pale blonde hair reaching my waist, and clear blue eyes. I know, all American Girl huh? Exactly. Which is why I wasn’t usually in my natural form, I liked to switch it up.

 

I was only sixteen, but when I went to the club I appeared to be about twenty two. I didn’t often appear as someone old, I didn’t like the feeling of being old, too creaky and achy. I knew exactly how hard adults had it, which is why I don’t harp on them like most juveniles do.

 

I stopped in the back of the club, looking up at the sliver of moon hanging in the sky. I inhaled a lungful of the crisp night air, sighing in content. Ah, how I loved the night.

 

I felt my form shift immediately, and when I opened my eyes I was flying rapidly through the air, as a jet black creature of the night. Just a bat outlining the starry sky. 

Who Ever Said I Was Normal?

“Alex? Alex!”

 

I snapped out of my daydream, staring into the chocolate brown eyes of my friend Lizzie.

 

“Sorry, what?” I asked. She rolled her eyes at me.

 

“I said, where were you yesterday? I texted you like fifty times.” She grumbled, sitting back in her chair.

 

I shrugged, beginning to tap my pencil against the desk like I always did when I’m bored. “I dunno, probably asleep.” I said.

 

She cocked a dark eyebrow in suspicion. “At five in the afternoon? C’mon Alex, I’m not that stupid.”  She said, giving me a knowing look.

 

I narrowed my eyes at her. I could make her forget this conversation so easily, but I didn’t. I try not to use magic unless it’s completely necessary. Okay, so some dumb blonde blocking my view of dancers at a club wasn’t really necessary, but she was ticking me off.

 

Anyway, Lizzie continued to glare at me when I just shrugged. Lizzie was a pretty hardcore Gothic girl. She had light blonde hair with rainbow streaks in it, brown eyes heavily outlined in black eyeliner, her lids adorned with dark eye shadow, she had high cheekbones coated in blush, her plump lips pink, and she was sporting a neon green tank top along with bright pink skinny jeans, along with her usual checkered converse.

 

Our outfits were fairly similar. I wore black shorts, a dark lavender tank top, and black and white converse. My eye makeup was also thick eyeliner, dark eye shadow, and blush, but I wore purple lipstick.

 

Lizzie and I were a lot alike, except our hair was different. My hair spiraled to my elbows in curls, dyed white blonde on top and dark blue underneath. Oh, and also my eyes were emerald green, just like last night at the club.

 

Okay, back to reality. Lizzie was still staring at me in anger, her cheeks flushing very dark on account of her blush.

 

“Hello? Earth to Alex?” Lizzie called.

 

I blinked, picking up my pencil tapping even though I hadn’t realized I’d stopped.

 

“What? Sorry.” I said with a laugh.

 

She rolled her eyes again, but the ghost of a smile was at the edges of her lips.

 

“Why didn’t you text me?” She whined. I dropped my pencil on the desk.

 

“Okay, you wanna know the truth? I was out clubbing okay?” I hissed under my breath. Now, a full blown smile was on Lizzie’s face.

 

“Oooohhh, nice.” She said with a wink. I rolled my eyes.

 

“It’s not like that. I just went out for some dancing, that’s all.” I said. Her grin faltered a bit in disappointment, but she kept smiling.

 

“So how was it?” She asked eagerly, resting her chin in her hands on top of the desk. I shrugged.

 

“Fine I suppose. Except some bitch got in front of me and started doing a little drunken line dance.”

 

Lizzie barked out a laugh of approval. “Nice!”

 

I smiled. “Yeah, it pissed me off.”

 

“What did you do?” Lizzie asked. I shook my head.

 

“Got up and left.” I said nonchalantly. Her nose wrinkled in distaste.

 

“Damn it, I was really hoping you did something rebellious you know? Like, knock her teeth down her throat or something.” She said, cocking her head to the side in question.

 

I shrugged again. “Maybe next time.”

 

Lizzie always expected more from me, probably because she seemed a bit suspicious about what I was. She was the kind of person who saw other sides of people from the usual one they always show. She has some sort of sixth sense, and when she met me, that sense went on high alert. Normally, I would kick her to the curb and move on to my next school and Alexis Greene (my fake persona, one of many) would cease to exist. But I liked Lizzie a lot more than most other people I had befriended during my time, and I wanted to stick around for a while. I wanted to see what kind of ridiculous conclusion she would come to as to what I was. Usually it was somewhere along the lines of superhero, vampire, or werewolf. And those were just plain stupid. I mean seriously, a werewolf? 

 

Suddenly, Mr. Winters came in, lugging a briefcase by his side and then slamming it onto his desk, breaking me out of my cloudy thoughts. I winced at the loud noise but otherwise ignored him as he mumbled to himself while scrawling equations on the board, ordering us to copy them.

Karma's A Bitch

Lizzie and I sat on the tables outside to eat lunch. It was May, and the weather was great. With the sun beating down on us and Lizzie humming a cheery tune, it was actually kind of nice.

 

In all my years (about a hundred and two, give or take a few months) I had never craved companionship, or any type of closeness such as the kind I share with Lizzie now. She was a person I could relate to, someone I could speak with and actually hold up a conversation. But my favorite thing about her was that she had a good heart. She was very kind and sweet, and always willing to lend a helping

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