Am I a troubled teen? Mabey. Although “troubled” doesn’t necessarily apply to what I am.

My parents are the living definition of “a picture of perfection”. Top of all their classes in college, perfect teeth, perfect smile, perfect hair, perfect personality, perfect powers, perfect everything. The only thing not perfect? Me.

Their not so smart, rebellious, 14-year-old, black sheep of the family— the worst part? My powers.

They are healers and shielders whereas I’m a Shade. A.k.a a darkness manipulator.

So here I am, at Ridgeveiw— a wilderness camp for troubled teens.

My parents sent me here, thinking it would help me with whatever “phase” I was going through.

But it’s not a phase, it’s just me. Being myself.

Though that doesn’t seem to matter now, as I walk through the freshly polished golden gates of Ridgeveiw.

Crying, yelling, screaming, fire burning the camp cabins down, water flooding the camp ground, chaos, and clearly out-of-it mages. My first thought? I’m not going to make it out of here alive.

Now, to my cabin, room B26.