[color=a187be][b]Mirabelle Kingston[/b][/color]
[indent]As Mira pulled her locks forward, her fingers deftly braided it over her shoulder and to the length of her belly button. She eyed her handiwork in the mirror, a bright pastel blue against the darkness of her black clothes; and for just a moment, she smiled. According to some, her heavy eyeliner and boots and dark nails took away from her natural beauty, but she quite pleased with her appearance. After one final once over of her reflection, she picked up her phone and handheld. She dropped the handheld into a small leather bag and threw it over her shoulder, turning to leave her room. 

The young woman walked slowly to the living area of her home, nose in her phone. "[color=a187be]Mom? I'm leaving for the bus,[/color]" she called only to immediately flinch when the reply came from beside her. 

"I'm right here! And you'd know that if you looked up from that thing ever," her mother laughed, wrapping her arms around Mira in a hug. "Be careful. I love you." 

Mira sighed, returning the hug after pulling her arms free from the woman's grip. "[color=a187be]Yeah, I love you too. I'll be back in a couple of days. Text me if I get anything in the mail,[/color]" she said seriously as she pulled away, dropping her phone into her pocket. 

"Of course, of course," she responded, waving her hand dismissively. They exchanged goodbyes and Mira waved as she walked out the front door and onto the sidewalk, settling deep purple headphones over her ears. 

Mira never made it to the bus stop. She was surprised by a woman yet again as she stopped before her, handing her a piece of paper. Mira's brows furrowed, but the woman disappeared as she pulled her headphones off. "[color=a187be]Eh?[/color]" Mira's violet gaze quickly flickered about. As she regained her composure and glanced down to the letter, her mind jumped to hopeful conclusions: maybe it was from the beauty school she had applied to. Although the method of delivery was a little strange for such a place, Mira struggled in that short moment to figure out why anyone would contact her this way. The answers, of course, were in her hand. 

As she read, bits of her memories ran through her head. She had sat among other Kingston children, unable to produce simple magic. And the magic she did unleash was often embarrassing. She had changed her delicate fingers into nasty claws. She had caught her beautiful hair on fire. She had even made herself appear more elvish, her ears becoming even more pointed and her cheekbones prominent--desiring to fit in among her family. And they had laughed. She was an embarrassment to the Kingstons, and for all her life magic had only helped to solidify that point. Anxiety swelled and the music pouring from her headphones was suddenly too loud. 

Mira scrambled with her phone to tap the sound off. With a shaky breath, she read the rest of the letter...and relief flooded over her. It wasn't her fault. It wasn't her fault that she struggled with magic while others around her excelled. And now she was being offered the chance to reclaim what was lost. She looked ahead, she could see the bus stop a few blocks up. She could continue and wait to be taken to the Kingstons, where they will at best ignore her. Or she could prepare for a new adventure. It was the easiest decision of her life. Mira tore the paper in half.
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