Chapter 1: Rebecca Roberts

“Becca!”

I rolled over as I heard my name being called. It’s too early for this.

“Becca wake up!”

I felt freezing air against my skin as someone ripped the blankets off my bed. I looked at the clock; 6:52.

“Mom” I grumbled, “I have an alarm set for seven; you don’t need to wake me up.” I rolled my legs over the side of the bed and sat up, shivering as I hugged myself, rubbing my arms. “And would it kill you too leave the blankets alone?”

She looked down at me from her position of authority and huffed. “You always say that but are never awake when I call for you.”

“Because you’re always barging in here early.”

But she was already stomping out of the room, not even pretending to listen. “Start getting ready or you’ll be late.”

I was not going to be late; I had plenty of time before school started, especially now that I was up extra early. I hopped off the bed, shut off the yet again useless alarm clock, and yawned as I stretched out an arm, ambling over to the door. I could already smell the burning eggs when I stepped into the hall, but I wouldn’t grab breakfast until after washing my face. I wasn’t a morning person and could really use the cold water to help stay awake.

By the time I left the bathroom, Mom had already finished setting the table and grabbed the morning news. I sat down as she turned on the TV and inserted the disk. The usual reporter began by talking about the weather. Apparently it was going to be cold today, wow. Traffic was congested, there was a long line at the bakery, and the machines were being pushed back, all-in-all another boringly average day. I idly forked another piece of egg and ignored the bitter taste that spread through my mouth; it was something I had long since gotten used to. The news anchor introduced us to a girl around my age in a pastel pink dress with white frills. Madam Friendship waved to the camera, made the world’s most generic greeting to her mom and dad, and then directed attention to a map of the local area. Big red arrows pointed to a similarly colored circle whose center set in the middle of some unimportant woods. Apparently Oak Park, highlighted in orange, had just been cleared, but the area was still too dangerous for public access. Why even tell us then?

Jake walked into the kitchen, sat down across from me, and started eating his own plate of crunchy eggs. The news showed a live feed of the danger zone’s center, blurrily recorded from a distance; some excavators were digging up dirt. I entirely lost interest in the news and instead looked over to my stupid little brother.

“So why does he get to sleep in even though you’re shaking me awake every morning?”

“He doesn’t,” my mom said, “You just don’t know how to wake yourself up.”

Jake smirked as I tossed my plate in the sink and headed back upstairs, too tired to keep arguing.

My room was just as much of a mess as it was 15 minutes ago. Dirty clothes thrown in the corner, backpack in the middle of the floor, blankets crumpled up (not my fault), and towers of books wherever they would fit. I once again pondered my lack of space for another shelf, but soon turned my attention to the closet. I flung it open and looked over my options: not much. It seemed today would be another jeans and t-shirt day. I threw them on with a particularly okay looking sweater and checked it out in the mirror. Truly runway material, as always.

I headed back to the bathroom to finish getting ready. I considered cutting my hair short for the millionth time as I spent a few minutes brushing it, but yet again I decided against it. Tedium aside, I looked pretty. My teeth got a slightly less thorough brushing and I applied my makeup: hand cream, lip balm, eyeliner… the usual.

I stepped out and checked the time; 7:24, only a few minutes before Mom would want to leave. I grabbed my lunch, bag, and coat before heading to the door to wait with my shoes on. Jake, whose morning routine was to roll out of bed and wait to leave, was already there. He vacantly messed with the straps on his backpack as I leaned against the wall and stared past him. Mom arrived a couple minutes later, herding us out the door and into the car. I spent the short ride resting my eyes.

At 7:46 am on this cold Wednesday morning I arrived at school. Walking through the door, I heard a familiar voice call out behind me.

“Becca!”

“Hey.” It was Chloe, my best friend since kindergarten. We were basically inseparable. She gave me a quick hug and we started heading to the lockers.

“What’s up? You seem down.”

“Too early for this shit.” I mumbled back. Maybe a bit rude, but I didn’t have the energy to care right now.

“Didn’t sleep well last night?”

I looked forward and kept walking. “The usual.”

I mostly listened as she chatted about the morning news. I could never figure out how someone could talk for so long about something so boring, but it’s not like much else was going on at the moment.

I nodded along as she talked about how cute Madam Friendship looked. Not my kind of style, but I could see the appeal. She definitely seemed new.

Chloe sighed dramatically. “Oh what I’d do to be a magical girl myself. Why, I’d give anything!”

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“As if you losers would ever get picked.”

I felt myself blush and turned to look at the speaker. Jessica and her friends snickered as they walked by.

“Just ignore them, Becca.” Chloe said, putting a hand on my shoulder. She was as composed as usual, one of her qualities that I envied.

We grabbed out books and headed to first period, geometry. Shapes were usually fine, but telling me to calculate them was a separate issue. I was getting ready to sleep through class again when the teacher walked in with an announcement.

“Good morning class. Today we’ll be having a pop quiz.”

I groaned, set my 900 page pillow aside, and got out a pencil. Quiz papers were passed to everyone and I wrote “Rebecca Roberts” in the name section. That was one point earned. I moved on to the next question, “Date: _______.” “Wednesday,” I wrote. It would have to do. The third question, marked with the number one, was written in Greek. Well, partially in Greek. A couple letters, really, but I wasn’t fluent in Greek so I skipped it. Question four wasn’t much better. Something about lines abcd and efgh forming an ijkl. The Greek was starting to seem a whole lot more legible.

15 minutes later, I finished the quiz. Half of my answers were probably wrong and the other half were missing from the page, but I could make up for it on the real test; after all, I had time to study for those. I’d say the rest of class was boring, but I wasn’t conscious for it so it’s not my place to judge. My next few classes certainly were though, but I was at least pretending to pay attention in those. After four mind-numbingly long hours, it was finally time for lunch.

I arrived at the cafeteria to find Chloe already set up at our usual table. I sat across from her and she folded her hands in an expression of seriousness.

“So Becca.”

“So Clo.”

“How do you propose we become magical girls?”

A timeless question.

“Well I guess we’d have to meet a god.”

“And how do you suppose we do that, die?”

I shrugged. “That’s one possibility.”

Chloe shook her head. “No, Becca, that’s not an option. Being a magical girl doesn’t help me if I’m dead.”

She made a good point.

I thought for a moment. “Well it’s not just about finding any god, right? We have to find the right one.”

Chloe raised an eyebrow at this. “What do you mean?”

“Because each color has its own god.” I explained, “First we have to figure out what colors we’re going to be, then we can hunt down the appropriate gods.”

Chloe slapped her hands on the table and stood up. “Any color will do! I just want to be a magical girl!”

I laughed a little and unpacked my sandwich. “You’d be a terrible blue.”

“I could be a blue.” She pouted and crossed her arms. “I’m a calm person.”

But I shook my head. “No, no. You’re more of a pink.”

“You dorks are still talking about this?”

I turned around to find Jessica mocking us once again. I scanned her up and down, finding that her looks were as perfect as always. I was a joke by comparison.

Chloe threw her arms out with an exaggerated sigh and shook her head. “Yet you’re not much better off, are you, Jess?”

Jessica glared, probably more bothered by the familiar nickname than the jab.

“You’re problem” she said, “is that you don’t know your place. For example, Rebecca here” I turned my face down as Jessica grabbed me by the shoulder and shook, “is perfectly docile, because she knows she’s beneath me.” I blushed at this, unable to retort. “But you, Chloe, act like you’re hot shit despite having nothing to show for it.”

Chloe looked back with a blank expression. “Just go eat your lunch, Jessica. You wouldn’t want our loserness to rub off.”

With a scoff, Jessica did exactly that, strutting over to her friends at the other side of the cafeteria. Chloe sat back down and looked at me, but I just stared at my lunch.

“So about those gods…”

--------

The rest of the day went by without incident. Normally I’d say English was an oasis in the desert of boredom that is school, but we’re currently in the Shakespeare unit and I couldn’t care less. I already read Macbeth in middle school, I already know that he goes crazy and kills a bunch of people, and most importantly it’s clear that Mr. Shoeman is tired of teaching it every year. So after taking the bus home, I figure I deserve a break. I put my bag down, grab a quick snack, and walk to the book store.

Mrs. Crenshaw is an elderly lady with a small book store in town. She doesn’t usually get many visitors, but she mostly runs the store as a hobby anyway. If anything, this makes it a nice, quiet place to relax. I wandered the aisles, finger running over the shelves as I eyed the titles. Many I didn’t recognize, but occasionally a spark of recognition fired across my brain. I scrunched my nose upon spotting Macbeth. I squatted down to peer at one row, and pulled out one book that caught my interest, Lord of the Flies. Nodding at the vaguely ominous title, I turned it over and read the description; something about children being stranded on an island with dangerous animals. I smiled at the thought and headed for the counter, already considering which of the many piles in my room this one would be placed on.

“Hi, Mrs. Crenshaw.”

“Good afternoon, Rebecca. What do you have for me this time?”

I passed over the book, and after deeming it satisfactory she scanned the barcode and slid it back to me.

“So Rebecca, does your boyfriend know you’re always sneaking off over here?”

“No” I replied, shaking my head, “I don’t have one of those.”

“Really? Surely a pretty girl like you has had at least a couple handsome young men wrapped around her finger by now.”

“Not me. I’m already married to my books.” I patted the new addition to my collection.

Mrs. Crenshaw nodded at this, clearly understanding. “In that case, maybe you would be interested you in joining our book club.”

“Book club? You’ve never mentioned something like that before.”

“Well it’s a late night event.” She replied, “I figured a girl your age would need her beauty sleep, but if you’re so devoted to books then maybe it’s worth the invitation.”

I smiled back; she certainly had my attention. “So when do you meet?”

“3 am.”