You were... different. Always have been. You felt something deep in your bones, and once you were old enough, you'd secretly bought a witchcraft kit. It felt... right. Like this was what you'd always felt. You were meant to do this.

Of course, you didn't really talk to people and you'd never really had a boyfriend, but you'd always admire from afar. One boy caught your eye. Sam. He was edgy, rebellious, moody. You thought you could fix him, in a sense. You were undeniably attracted to him, and you thought your craft could be helpful in this situation.

You put a love spell on him. The next day, it hit him. Hard. He couldn't stop staring at you, he couldn't stop thinking about you. Everything was you. But, that couldn't be right. He'd never thought of you like this before, so why now?

Your gorgeous blonde hair, your blue eyes with the littlest hint of green in them, your round nose, every beauty mark on your face, especially the one right below your nose. He loved it all. All your piercings, all your clothes, all your rings that always seem to make your fingers turn blue. All of it.

Why? You had to be doing something to him. You had to. He goes up to you during lunch. You sat against a tree that was at the other side of the pavilion lunch was. Sam sat at his own. He got up and took long, almost angry strides. He looked down at you and his heart started beating faster, but he was so confused.

"What the hell are you doing to me? Did you put a spell on me or some shit, huh? Tell me, goddamnit."