The first time I learnt how to do magic WOULD have been incredible if it had actually happened. I tried, I really did. I had geared myself up for this day, I learnt all the methods, knew all the incantations off by heart, there was nothing I didn’t know about magic...except how to do it. The worst bit, the really upsetting bit, was the disappointment and worry in my parents eyes. Of course they said all the right words, “don’t worry darling, you can try again another day” and “ it just wasn’t your day today”, but we all knew, including the counsel that it was never going to work. I was one of those.

‘Those’ were the ones (like me, it seemed) who weren’t given the ability to do magic. They were the ones that people were oh so kind to, smiling sympathetically at them with a slight sidewards head tilt. Everyone knew who they were, nothing is kept secret in our towns. There are rumours that there are big houses out in the countryside where some are taken if they become too much of an embarrassment for their family. Then they are only whispered about by the elders. Will that be me?

We went home that day in silence. I sat on mum’s broom holding on and I could almost feel her dismay in the way her back was ramrod straight instead of relaxed. She didn’t even do any loop de loops. That’s not my mum.

Back at home my elder brother and sister appeared in a puff of smoke in the living room, expectant smiles on their faces. I slumped onto the sofa and folded my arms. My sister looked to my mum.

“Didn’t quite work today” she started.

“Didn’t QUITE work?” I exploded. “It didn’t work at all! I was rubbish, a failure, a non-witch”.

I couldn’t help but catch the stiffening of my brother’s posture and the sideways glance at my dad.

“She’s been given another date next week to try. There are lots of witches who don’t get it the first time.” my dad tried to reassure me.

“Oh yeah, like who?” I shot back.

“Well...I...” stuttered my dad.

“Exactly!” I ran out of the room, stumbled up the stairs and threw myself on my bed before bursting into tears, the sobs racking my whole body.

The week that followed was the worst ever for me. I was too ashamed to go out. My friends tried to contact me but I refused to open their messages, all sent via the magical network of course, because they could do that now having passed all their tests (just to rub salt in my wounds).

The day came for my second try (and fail). I hadn’t practised anymore, what was the point? I stood in front of the counsel as before, already I could see those looks from them, and raised my wand and....

The day I leant how to do magic was INCREDIBLE!