UnEnchanted
Authors: Chanda Hahn
Tags: #romance, #adventure, #fantasy, #paranormal, #wolves, #young adult, #fairy tales, #teen, #hansel and gretel, #fae, #ya, #childrens fiction, #teen fantasy adventure, #teen fantasy series
UnEnchanted
(An Unfortunate Fairy Tale
Book 1)
Chanda Hahn
Revised Edition
4-26-13
Copyright © 2012 by Word
Circus
Photo by Jorge
Wiegand
Cover model Paulina
Godoy
Cover design by Chanda Hahn
& Steve Hahn
Smashword Edition, License
Notes
This ebook is licensed for
your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or
given away to other people. If you would like to share this book
with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each
recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or
it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to
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the hard work of this author.
To Richlie Fikes
Because you always asked me
what was going to happen next…
Chapter 1
Today I saved Brody Carmichael’s life!
Mina penned the jubilant words into her blue
spiral notebook with her favorite ballpoint pen. She faithfully
used the same pen when writing all of her entries in the hope that
it would change her luck and she could write something good in her
notebook—like today. Mina stared at the words written before her in
her sloppy script and felt a pang of guilt. She started to close
the notebook but paused in thought. It didn’t feel right. It didn’t
seem…truthful. With a heavy hand and a heavy heart, she added in
parentheses next to her previous entry:
(Today was
also
the day I almost
KILLED Brody Carmichael).
Feeling slightly better about telling the
truth, she closed her notebook, titled “Unaccomplishments and Epic
Disasters,” and tucked it in her dresser drawer with a sigh.
Nothing in the world ever went right for
fifteen-year-old Mina. She was always late for class, her homework
usually looked as if it had spent the evening being a chew toy for
a pit bull when she didn’t even own a dog, her long-time crush
didn’t know she existed, and she frequently spilled chocolate milk
on herself whenever she became nervous. Mina was certain it was
because she was the magnet for all the bad, terrible, and so-so
luck that existed in the world, and therefore kept a notebook
hidden in her unorganized sock drawer to prove it.
All of these events turned her into a cynic,
especially since yesterday morning had started out like any other
event-filled, disastrous day.
***
She dreamed she was flying. She was much
more graceful in the air than on the ground, where her feet always
seemed to be tripping her up. But her peaceful dream was
interrupted by the loud banging and crashing of thunder. She was no
longer flying…but falling.
“
Ouch! What the…?” Mina
cried out as she landed painfully on the mismatched oak wood floor
of her bedroom. She had fallen out of bed. Struggling to untangle
herself from her sheets and comforter, Mina saw a pair of feet
poking out of blue
Toy Story
pajamas next to her head.
“
Charlie, what are you
doing?” she mumbled, still wrestling with her sheets.
Charlie, a young and solemn boy of eight,
pointed toward her clock, which was blinking 12:00 p.m. In his
hands he held a pot and wooden spoon. The power must have gone out
again, which was a regular occurrence for their city block.
“
What time is it?” she
asked, feeling dread build, knowing that today she was going to be
late…again.
Charlie held up one hand, pinching his ring
finger and thumb together to sign the number seven.
“
Charlie, how could you
have let me sleep in so long? I’m going to be late!”
Charlie answered by shrugging his shoulders
and banging on the pot with his wooden spoon. She knew that it
wasn’t Charlie’s fault; she was a very deep sleeper. Her mother,
Sara, said that she was harder to wake up than Sleeping Beauty. In
Mina’s case, though, there was no Prince Charming to rescue her
from her snoring, and with her horrible luck, there never would
be.
Jumping up, Mina grabbed what she hoped was
a clean pair of jeans from the pile of clothes that littered her
floor and slid into them. Silently she thanked her mother for never
giving in to her request for skinny jeans; otherwise, her dressing
time would have doubled. Next, she shoved her feet into her
favorite Converse All Stars, bending the backs in the process.
Picking up a blue zippered hoodie, she gave
it a cursory sniff before deeming it clean enough to wear. She ran
her fingers through her long brown hair, attempting to tame the
stray locks, which were the same boring color as her eyes. She
tried to force a winning smile onto her face, but it slid into an
awkward grimace.
Giving a quick kiss on her brother’s head,
she ran into the small and dated kitchen, and grabbed her backpack
from the breakfast table. Turning, Mina heard a rip as the backpack
clung stubbornly to the back of the chair. The chair won, and the
shoulder strap ripped off the back of the bag, causing all of her
books to crash to the floor in a heap.
Sighing, she threw each book back into the
bag and did her best to hold it shut while she scoured the kitchen
drawers for safety pins.
Sara Grime walked into the kitchen with a
quizzical look on her face. She was dressed in her work clothes,
tan pants and a blue polo with a stitched outline of a feather
duster and smiling mop. Sara worked for Happy Maids, cleaning homes
so she could afford the tuition to send Charlie to a private
school. Their mother worked long hours without ever complaining,
which was why Mina never allowed her to enter Mina’s pigsty of a
room.
“
Mom, did you sign my
permission form?”
“
What permission form?”
Sara asked distractedly, sliding a raspberry Pop Tart into the
toaster.
“
For today’s field trip.
To Babushka’s Bakery, remember? I gave it to you last
week.”
“
Oh, honey.” Sara wrung
her hands. “Don’t you think it would be better if you didn’t go on
the field trip? You know how clumsy you are. What if something
should happen to you?”
“
Mom, I have a paper to
write on today’s trip, and it’s worth a quarter of my grade.” Mina
had finally found a few safety pins in a junk drawer and was
fumbling with them to reattach the strap to her backpack. She knew
they didn’t have enough money to buy another one. She would have to
make do with a quick mend.
“
Well, maybe you could do
some extra credit instead?” Sara asked.
“
Mom, I’ll be fine. I’ll
stick to Nan like glue, and you won’t have to worry about me. It’s
just a boring bakery tour. What could possibly go wrong, other than
I die of boredom?” Mina saw the look on her mom’s face and knew
that she had won the argument…barely.
Going to a stack of mail by the fridge, Sara
sifted through it until she found the folded yellow permission
form. Signing it, she handed it to Mina with one last warning.
“Just promise me you’ll be careful.”
“
I will,” Mina promised,
knowing it was a half-truth. She would be careful, but bad luck had
a habit of following her everywhere.
Charlie shuffled into the kitchen still
wearing his pajamas, plus a striking pair of bright yellow
galoshes. Sitting on a slightly dented chair, he pulled one of the
boxes of cereal toward him and began his morning routine of
combining random cereals into one bowl. Today he chose Franken
Berry, Cheerios, and Grape-Nuts, a far cry from his normal
combination of at least five cereals. Watching him mix cereal every
morning made her stomach drop in disgust, which was why she
preferred Pop Tarts.
The toaster released her Pop Tart and Mina
grabbed it in midair, wishing she hadn’t as she began tossing it
back and forth in her hands until it cooled. Once it had cooled
enough, it went into her mouth while she slipped on her temporarily
fixed backpack and darted out the door to grab her bike from the
landing.
The Grime family lived in a small rented
apartment above The Golden Palace, a Chinese restaurant run by Mr.
and Mrs. Wong. Mina loved living above the restaurant, unless she
forgot to close her window the night before; then all of her
clothes would smell like peanut oil. To make up for it, Mrs. Wong
gave Mina all the pot stickers she could eat.
Mina carried the bike down the stairs to the
sidewalk, nicking the paint from the wall on the way down. She had
a love-hate relationship with the bike. Last year, on the eve of
her fifteenth birthday, she thought she was being led outside
blindfolded to be presented with a car. Instead she got a red 1950
Schwinn. The bike was old, scuffed, and needed new brakes, oil, and
tires, but she didn’t care.
Once she got over the disappointment, and
realized how unrealistic a car would be on her family’s budget, she
began to love it. The bike allowed her some freedom. Besides, if
Mina’s riding ability was any indication of her driving ability,
then the world would have been in for a lot of dented
mailboxes.
Swinging her bike onto the sidewalk, Mina
waved to Mrs. Wong and barely missed colliding into an old lady
walking her gaggle of toy poodles. “Sorry!” she yelled, losing a
chunk of the Pop Tart she was still holding in her mouth. She
watched in disgust as the poodles, who only minutes ago looked cute
and cuddly, morphed into snapping, sugar-crazed dogs. The lady
stared in shock as she tried to get control of her wild, pampered
babies. Mina shrugged apologetically in response.
Ten minutes later, after cutting through two
back streets and riding across three neighbors' backyards, Mina
arrived at a schoolyard that was devoid of human life, giving her
the undeniable impression that she was tardy. She left her bike by
the bike rack, but without a proper kickstand it sagged
pathetically to one side against the nicer, newer bikes.
Running toward the bus barn, she was
relieved to see the field trip bus was still there—until it pulled
away from the curb.
“
No!” Mina yelled, running
after the bus, trying desperately to catch the notice of the
driver.
A window slid down, and a familiar blonde
head popped out with something silver in her hand. “Mina, you
really need to get a watch,” the girl shouted.
“
Nan! Tell him to stop!”
Mina cried, feeling a stitch begin in her side.
“
And a cell phone! You
really need to be brought out of the dark ages. I could have called
you.” The girl just kept talking, impervious to Mina’s desperation
and waning stamina.
“
NAN! Snap out of it! Stop
the bus!” she screamed, huffing and puffing.
“
Oh, right!” The blonde
head popped back inside. A moment later the bus slowly decelerated
and pulled to the curb.
Out of breath, and slightly limping from the
side stitch, Mina finally boarded the first steps of the bus. The
bus driver gave her an indignant look; this would probably delay
their arrival, and he was a stickler for being on time. She ignored
him and stepped to the front row where her teacher was sitting to
hand him her permission form.
