Mia's Magic- Short Story

Mia's Magic

4- October 2004

Based on the writing challenge:
Write 400 words (or more) involving a person with
magical powers that has to keep them a secret, but can't stop using them

"Mia!"

The young girl looked up from her book quickly, the perfunctory "Yes ma'am" already forming on her lips by habit. Her voice trailed off at the sight of her teacher, who was carefully extinguishing the flames that had erupted on the book she held.

Mia quickly stood up and walked, head down, to the teacher's desk. She wished they were allowed to wear their hair down in school. Her dark locks would fall forward to cover the spots of crimson that spread across her cheeks. She reached the teacher's desk and finally dared to look up at Mrs. Fingle.

"Go and get me a new book from the shelf, Mia."

"Yes ma'am."

"And please dispose of this one."

"Yes ma'am." Mia took the charred book, and the detention slip that Mrs. Fingle had hidden underneath it, carefully concealing the paper in her pocket as she got a new book.

Mrs. Fingle, meanwhile, had turned to the blackboard to write a question about the text, muttering loudly about the hazard of old books in classrooms.

"…should really get us new books, ones that are less likely to combust. Thank you, Mia."

Mia bowed her head and returned to her seat.

~~~

"So you got detention again?" Laurali asked, leaning her stomach on one of the swings in the playground.

Mia didn't look up to answer, rather kept drawing in the sand. "Yeah" she said, morosely.

" 's not fair. 's not your fault that they like you." This last was said in a conspiratorial whisper.

Mia shrugged. "I'm used to it," she said, standing up.

"But it's not like they have to serve detention. They have all the fun, and you get punished."

Mia looked at Laurali who still rested on the swing. She considered a moment. Laurali was smart, and usually had the right answer for everything, but something didn't quite fit. "No," Mia said, speaking as the thought formed. "I don't think they know they're doing anything wrong. They just do things for me, but don't realize there may be consequences."

"I still don't think it's right," Laurali said, leaning forward over the swing and picking up her feet. As she slowly rocked to a stop, Mia left to go to detention.

~~~

Mia opened the door to the classroom and was surprised to find it empty. Usually when Mrs. Fingle gave her detention, she was waiting impatiently at her desk, and tsking about the time, even though Mia was never once late.

Mia took her seat, pulled out her notebook, and turned to a blank page. There were a lot more pages full than blank. And this was her third detention notebook this year. Most of the time Mrs. Fingle just had her writing "I will not misbehave in class" because she knew, from past teachers, that Mia was usually the cause for any weird events in class, but could never explain exactly what she had done wrong.

Mia picked up her pen and was about to begin her lines when the door opened. The music teacher, Mr. Tony, walked in. Mia knew he had a last name, but had long forgotten it, as he insisted on running a more informal setting in his class. Mia looked questioningly at him as he sat down on the edge of the teacher's desk.

"Mrs. Fingle was called home rather urgently, so she asked me to take over here."

Mia nodded and began her lines. She had only written three words when Mr. Tony said "There is on need for that. It really doesn't help you with your situation, now does it?"

Mia looked up and was dismayed to see a small figure standing on Mr. Tony's shoulder. Mia shook her head. She liked Mr. Tony, and didn't want him to be frightened of her like the other teachers were. She silently begged the creature to leave, to let her suffer through detention alone. The creature created a breeze that ruffled the music teacher's hair.

Mia watched, terrified, to see Mr. Tony's reaction. She expected him to cry out, or jump. Instead he smiled and brought a small instrument to his lips. He played four notes, and the breeze stopped. The creature hopped down to the desk and out of sight.

Mr. Tony tossed the whistle to Mia, and pulled out an identical one. His eyes danced as he said "Today we'll begin your lessons on how to have a little more control of the wee folk. The music acts to sooth and communicate with them."

Mia smiled, and the bells in the back of the class started to ring.