27 Feb 2026, 03:06
It Began at Christmas
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Reducio
ReducioCuriosity always leads somewhere.
ReducioMargaret's speech: floral white
Hannah's speech: red
Michael's speech: blue
Diana's speech: 2b4c7e thoughts: #6b4c7e + italics☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
For Christmas, when Diana was seven years old, she spent it with her parents at her grandmother Margret's house. Diana enjoyed spending the holidays, or basically any day, with her grandmother. Diana helped decorate the tree; her favorite part was putting on the star, which seemed to glow even in the daytime, probably because of the charm her grandmother had put on it. However, on Christmas day, Diana couldn't help but notice that the tree tilted slightly to the left, and she was the first to see it. Diana didn't notice it because it was obvious; no one else had noticed it, but something felt wrong. It didn't feel unsafe or broken, just… misaligned. Diana's wool tights were itching her knees as she stood very still in the doorway, the smell of cinnamon and pine heavy in the air.
“Go on, darling,” her grandmother encouraged gently. “Open it.” Margret was referring to the small, square, golden-wrapped present underneath the tilted tree. Diana stepped forward, but then she stopped. Her stomach tightened, but not from fear, from excitement. She always enjoyed opening presents on her birthday and on Christmas, but she also enjoyed seeing others open her gifts. The feeling she currently felt was the same thin, strange sensation she sometimes felt before changing direction on her walk home from school. The same quiet pull that made her pause mid-step for no reason she could explain.
Her fingers hovered above the ribbon, and that's when her mother called out, prompting softly, "Diana?" Instead of responding, Diana tilted her head slightly as if listening for something. But she didn't hear anything else except for the clock ticking, the heater humming, and her father shifting in his seat. Despite this, she moved her present slightly to the right by just an inch. Then, Diana stepped back, and a few seconds after, the tree stand gave way, causing the tree and all the beautiful ornaments to come crashing to the ground, including the star. The tree had crashed exactly where the present had been. After the tree fell, Diana's mother gasped, her father stood abruptly, but her grandmother didn't move.
Diana stared at the fallen tree, her heart beating fast, not because she'd nearly been crushed, but because she knew it'd fall. She didn't know how or when it'd fall, she just knew something wasn't right. Her grandmother's calm and steady voice cut through the silence. “Come sit with me, Diana.” Diana's parents busied themselves with the tree, mumbling about faulty stands and bad balance. However, Margaret led Diana into her kitchen, her warm hand resting on Diana's back.
When they reached the kitchen, Margret said, “You felt it before it happened.” She said it in a way that meant it wasn't a question; instead, it was an observation. Diana swallowed. “I just… didn’t like where it was.” Margaret's eyes softened at that. “It won’t always be clear,” she said. “Sometimes it won’t even make sense. But it will feel like that.” Diana didn't know what her grandmother was talking about, so she asked, “Like what?” Her grandmother replied simply, “Like the world shifting half a second before everyone else notices.” Diana frowned. “That’s not real.” Margaret smiled faintly. “It is in our family.”
The word family hung in the air. Diana didn't argue, but she also didn't believe it, at least not fully. That night, after the tree was restored with magic, Diana stayed awake, unable to sleep, replaying the events that had happened. She hadn't seen the tree fall, nor did she hear the creak; she had just adjusted. And for the first time in her young life, coincidence didn't feel like the right word.
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆Word Count: 613/200
Last edited by Diana Roberts on 8 Aug 2026, 19:56, edited 2 times in total.
1 Mar 2026, 21:50
It Began at Christmas
♡
♡
♡
♡
Reducio
ReducioCuriosity always leads somewhere.
ReducioMargaret's speech: floral white
Hannah's speech: red
Michael's speech: blue
Diana's speech: 2b4c7e thoughts: #6b4c7e + italics☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
That night, the house didn't feel quiet or louder; it felt different, as if it was just aware of what had happened. Diana lay in her bed under her heavy quilt that her grandmother had knitted. She had her own room in her grandmother's house, as did her parents. The streetlight outside cast patterns on the ceiling, and her muted grey-green eyes stared at the patterns. Even upstairs, and hours passed since dinner, the air still smelt like pine sap and cinnamon, more reminders of what had happened earlier.
Somewhere down the hall, Diana heard her parents' hushed voices, then a cupboard closed, and then there was silence. She tried to close her eyes and sleep, but she couldn't. She tried to count the sheep, but that didn't work. She tried to do that number thing that her parents had taught her, but that didn't even work. Every time Diana tried to close her eyes, she felt the same feeling as earlier, a thin thread of sensation that wasn't pulling, that wasn't pushing, it was just there. As if it were standing at the edge of something invisible. Diana rolled onto her side, and she heard the clock from her bedside table go tick, tick, tick... Diana squeezed her eyes tighter, and as a result of this, for a second, just for a second, she felt it again, the shift, that quiet step that went half forward. Her eyes flew open, but nothing had happened. The ceiling was still the same, the quiet was still heavy but warm and comfortable, and the heater was still humming. However, even though everything in her room was the same, her heart was racing.
Diana slowly sat up, pulling her knees to her chest, but not in fear, not in confusion, but in certainty, and it didn't need proof. The conversation that she had with her grandmother replayed in her mind, and she mainly heard her grandmother's words, not her own. Diana frowned in the dark. She still believed that what her grandmother had said was impossible. And yet, in a way, it was happening, and Diana didn't know what to do. But she knew who to talk to. Diana slipped out of bed, put on her robe and slippers, and padded down the stairs. The kitchen light was still on, and Diana peered in, seeing her grandmother before walking inside.
"I can't sleep," Diana said softly, seeing her grandmother sitting at the table with a cup of tea as if she were expecting her. Margaret smiled, and she wasn't even surprised. "No, I didn't think you could." Diana wasn't sure how her grandmother thought that, but Diana sat down beside her grandmother and asked, "Is it magic?" Diana knows about magic, and she has recently gotten her first instance of magic as well.
It seemed that Margret was considering this question seriously. "Yes," she replied before adding, "But not the type you'd use a wand for." Diana again didn't know what this meant, but she looked down and decided to talk about the tree again. "I didn't see it fall," she admitted. "I just knew it would, or that something would happen to it." Margret nodded. "That's how it begins." Diana looked up at her grandmother in confusion. "Begins?" Diana asks, her voice small.
Margaret reached across the table and took Diana's small hand into her warm and bigger one. "It runs through mainly the women in our family," she began softly. "It's not loud, it's not often, it's not showy, meaning others can see it. But when it comes, you'll be able to recognize it." Diana wasn't sure if she liked this answer, but at least it made some sense to the young Seer. "Will it happen again?" Diana asked. Almost immediately Margert replied, "Yes." Diana asked, "When?" Margaret's smile softened as she said, "That's the part when no one can tell."
Silence settled between them, not uncomfortable. Diana was thinking about what her grandmother had said earlier, and what she had said now, trying to connect everything and to figure out if it even made any sense. Diana then looked down at their joined hands on the table, and she felt something steady beneath her ribs, and it wasn't fear or excitement; it was recognition. Everything made sense now, at least more than it did before. It was as if a door she didn't know was inside her had opened, and something ancient and powerful had woken up, without blood sacrifices from a male and female to awaken this new hidden power and talent of Diana's, the ability to be a Seer!
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆Word Count: 771/200
8 Aug 2026, 20:02
It Began at Christmas
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♡
♡
♡
Reducio
ReducioCuriosity always leads somewhere.
ReducioMargaret's speech: floral white
Hannah's speech: red
Michael's speech: blue
Diana's speech: 2b4c7e thoughts: #6b4c7e + italics☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
Her small hand still rested in her grandmother's as she remained quiet for a moment. There were so many questions that she wanted to ask but she didn't even know which one to ask first. She had always known magic existed. She'd even experienced her magic accidentally. But this simply felt different. There was no wand and no spell and certainly nothing she could point to and say I did that.
"Can I do it again?" Diana finally asked. Margaret's expression softened. "Perhaps. But you shouldn't try to." Diana frowned slightly. "Why not?" "Because you don't choose when it happens," Margaret explained. "The harder you look for it, the less likely you are to notice it when it comes." Diana then thought about the tree. She hadn't been looking for anything. She was just holding a present that she was about to open but then hesitated because of a strange feeling that she'd felt before the tree fell. She certainly hadn't been trying to predict what'd happen. She'd simply felt that something was wrong and moved the present without really knowing why.
"Will I see the future?" she asked after a moment. "Sometimes a Seer's gift can show itself in many ways," Margaret replied. "But it isn't always a picture of what is going to happen. Sometimes it's simply knowing that something is out of place. Sometimes it's a feeling that tells you to stop, turn around, or pay closer attention."
Diana listened closely and committed every world to memory. "So I shouldn't be scared if it happens again?" "No, darling." Margaret gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "You don't need to be afraid of something that is part of you."
Diana looked down at their joint hands. She wasn't even sure she was ready to think of it as a part of her yet. It felt strange almost like as if she discovered a room inside her own home that she'd never known existed. "What if I don't understand it?" "You won't understand everything at first," Margaret said with a small smile. "And that's perfectly all right. You're seven. You have plenty of time to learn." That made Diana faintly smile.
Margret stood and held out her hand after another quiet moment. "Come along. It's late, and I think your parents will be wondering where you've disappeared to." Diana took her hand and followed her grandmother back upstairs. However before returning to her room she paused at the doorway to the sitting room.
The Christmas tree was standing exactly where it had before and was repaired and decorated once more. Her father had managed to straighten the stand and the ornaments had been carefully put back in place. The star still glowed softly at the top. Diana studied the tree for a moment. Something about it felt different now. It didn't feel dangerous or wrong. It just seemed to be slightly crooked. Diana almost reached out to fix it but then she remembered what her grandmother had said. "You don't choose when it happens." So Diana left the star exactly where it was on the tree and went back into her room.
She pulled the quilt up to her chin after she climbed back into bed. The faint smell of pine still lingered in the air as the house had finally became quiet again. Diana didn't try to force herself to understand what'd happen for the first time that night. She simply closed her eyes. She didn't know what being a Seer would mean for her future. She didn't know when the strange feeling would return or what it'd tell her when it did. But she knew one thing. The strange feeling wasn't something to fear. Instead it was something to listen to. And somewhere beneath the quiet of sleep the seven year old Diana Roberts began the first step toward understanding the gift that would one day become an important part of who she was.
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆Word Count: 657/200