Shattering Crystals

A gorgeous girl stands by the entrance. One look is all it takes to know who she is - the beautiful Chelsea McPhee.

"What the hell." As soon as she says these words, everyone freezes, mouths open, just gaping at her. Especially the guys.

"Chelsea..." Lynda says, breaking the silence and taking a step towards her. Everyone watches, only their eyes moving as their bodies are still and their hearts are beating rapidly in their chests.

"So I come here to escape paparazzi and this is what I get?" Chelsea says, blue eyes flaring. She places a hand on her hip, as if posing for a picture. "A bunch of fucking freaks!"

After that, everything happens fast. Too fast. Chelsea bolts, running as quickly as she can in her heels. Knowing the type of person she is, her only objective is to tell anyone within hearing distance. And that, ultimately, would cause our downfall.

"Get her!" someone screams. I can't tell who it is; I can't even tell if the voice is male or female. It all happens too quickly, all a blur. But Chelsea is way across the room, and even with a couple unknown people chasing after her, I know she has a clear escape. Once she leaves the house, who knows who could have followed her and her celebrity status here?

This time around, with the threat of exposure, I don't panic. Not like when we had to leave Aaron's house, not like when I panicked and Connor had to save me. I only feel the deep sinking sensation in my stomach. Because this time, I know that we're done for.

Dean runs the fastest. It could be that he's the tallest, but from what I know of him, it's because by now, he wants that new life more than anything. He doesn't speak anymore. He barely does anything. And I know he hates it.

I just stand and watch as Chelsea stumbles a bit, over my shoes that I had left near the entrance. It almost makes me want to smile that my custom was good for something, but not quite. Something about this situation is too saddening.

Her second's stumble allows Dean to catch up to her, wrapping his arms around her and holding her in place. It's almost like a lover's embrace, the way he doesn't want to hurt her.

This doesn't hold true for her, though. She jabs her heel into his ankle, and his grip is broken. She runs the few steps it takes to reach the door, and places her hand on the doorknob.

It's at this point that I turn away, simply because it hurt too much to watch. I don't want to watch my story end before it's time to.

"Chelsea!" Lynda shrieks, a piercing sound of pure desperation. It's not a beautiful sound - it rather reminds me of nails scraping against a chalkboard.

But it's enough. Chelsea turns her head to look over at her sister, and suddenly she's pushed back against the wall of the narrow hallway by a wave of magic. Lynda stands there, her arm outstretched, as if reaching out to her sibling.

"I knew you were a freak too." Chelsea's words aren't loud, they aren't spoken rudely. It's just a statement, yet it hurts Lynda more than anything. She lets her arm fall slowly back to her side.

At this point Aaron reaches the door and places a hand on the handle. Then he simply backs away, calm. Chelsea is freed from Lynda's magic, and she once again tries to escape. Nobody stops her this time. With a satisfied smirk, she reaches out to open the door.

As soon as her hand touches the knob, she flinches, making a big show of it.

"What did you freaks do?" Her hand has a red mark on it, which is probably a burn from Aaron. She looks at each one of us, disgust in her eyes. "You'll regret this."

Lorraine finally gets her head back and rushes over to Chelsea. To do what - I don't know. I look around the room, once the rush is over. Dean and Aaron were the ones to chase after Chelsea, but Elise and Connor are missing.

"Lorraine!" Connor shouts from the staircase. He holds up a long bundle of rope over his head, and Lorraine holds out her hand. To anyone else, this would look outrageous - Lorraine expects him to throw it to here while she's at least thirty feet away.

But he tosses it into the air anyways. It spins in midair and in a flash it's in Lorraine's hands, the quickest magic I've ever seen her do. She throws it out like a lasso and it curls around, wrapping itself around Chelsea like a snake. The force of magic drags her over to a chair and binds her to that also.

She struggles violently, attempting to wriggle out of the coils to no avail. "I'm gonna fucking call the police." But everyone ignores her.

"What do we do with her?" Lorraine says, looking at Lynda. It is her family member, anyways.

"I don't know," Lynda says.

"I can hear you," Chelsea yells. "And I demand you to get me out of this. Now. You're not gonna get away with this, whoever the hell you are, and the media is gonna hear all about this." Lorraine just shakes her head and walks up behind Chelsea's chair and places a hand on her shoulder.

"Fall into a slumber deep, and do not awaken from your sleep."

I recognize this little poem. It's a spell that Lorraine had created to help her insomnia, the only one that truly worked well. It wears off in eight hours, and the only negative thing is that no one can wake them up before them, unless you are the one who cast the spell. It doesn't work so well if you are the one sleeping. Chelsea's head falls onto Lorraine's hand, and Lorraine pulls away.

"She's gonna sleep until you want to wake her up," Lorraine says. She glances at everyone in turn. "Anyone have any idea what to do?"

"I don't know," Lynda mutters. "She's not going to forget this. She's not even gonna pass it off as a dream or anything, if that's what you're thinking. I know her."

"Erase her memory," Elise says, coming back down the staircase. I wonder where she had gone. "It's the only way."

"I don't know how to..." Lorraine says uncertainly. "What if I screw her up?"

"Take the chance," Lynda commands. "I know she's my sister and all... but please. Do it."

Lorraine nods slowly. "Dana, help me."

I nervously walk over to the chair to join Lorraine. Knowing that your whole future could be gone with the wrong twitch of the finger isn't the best feeling.

"What - what do we do?" I ask.

"Concentrate," Lorraine says, closing her eyes and taking my hand. "I always found that imagining what you want to happen works best. So just relax, and imagine."

I nod, yet I'm still unsure if I can relax under these circumstances. I close my eyes, knowing that everyone is watching, nearly breathless.

After five excruciatingly long, silent minutes, I can picture it. I can feel the magic I want, and I can't describe it in words or pictures. But I can see it in my mind, swirling around in a perplexing way.

"Ready?" Lorraine breathes.

"Yes."

We open our eyes and each place a hand on one of Chelsea's relaxed shoulders. I breathe in deeply, hoping that this will be successful.

"Okay," Lorraine says. "Three... two... one."