NOVA

         (this is the beginning of a novel I might write. I was just wondering if it was a good start to a book or not. Advice and reviews welcome)

She always signed her name NOVA. Just NOVA, in all caps. Nobody really knew she was, nobody ever met her. She was only ever a shadow, a hazy figure fleeting into the alleyways during the night. It wasn't uncommon to hear her name whispered around the city with an air of fear to it. People were afraid of her, of what she did.

Kimber held her Ma's hand tightly, her cheek pressed into the sage colored silk of her Ma's dress. She was young—a mere ten years old—but she was old enough to understand the picture stretched upon the wall before her. The shimmering red lines depicted a bloody revolution, one that made Kimber feel sick to her stomach. It was not overly dramatic, but there was a certain fatality hidden behind those wavering shimmering lines. It scared Kimber and yet she was enchanted by it. The way the magic clung to the wall, eating away into the bricks like acid. The way each line seemed to slither across the wall, an illusion placed over the painting to make it seem alive. Kimber felt a shiver run down her neck. She glanced up at her Ma and found that her green eyes were open wide with terror. Kimber could not understand her Ma's terror. The picture inspired fear in her, though the name in the corner of the painting—NOVA—inspired her curiosity as well.

Kimber knew better than to hint at the respect she felt for NOVA. NOVA was supposed to be feared, not respected. Kimber had seen wanted posters hung on lampposts around the city for this NOVA artist. She had even taken one down and stashed it inside her room, with her books and drawings that she hid from her parents. NOVA was like a God to Kimber. Though the paintings NOVA left behind inspired terror in people, Kimber respected the fact that NOVA was brave enough to keep doing it. Kimber believed that NOVA stood for equality and bravery and something else that a lot of her people lacked. She wasn't really sure what that something was.

In Kimber's mind, a reputation had been built for NOVA through the years of hearing rumors about her and her work. Kimber grew up hearing the name NOVA whispered here or alluded to there, but she had never understood what it really meant until she had started to seek out NOVA's graffiti. NOVA had always been talked about as if she were a ghost, and might or might not exist. Especially by Kimber's parents. But now Kimber knew she was real, and she tried as well as she could to feign the same terror her Ma felt. It was hard to accomplish when respect was all that swam in her heart.

If she had understood the concept of treason, Kimber would have wondered whether her thoughts were so.

Her Ma pulled on Kimber's hand tightly as they sulked away from the painting. Kimber fixed her plaited skirt and tucked in her blouse before her Ma noticed. Backpack over her shoulder, Kimber tried to keep up with her fast moving Ma. A block from the school, Kimber turned to her Ma and kissed her on the cheek. Her Ma's hair was wiry, that usual dark blond, and it was up in double braids. Kimber loved her Ma's hair, just as her Ma loved her long raven curls.

“I'll see you later, sweetie,” her Ma said as she kissed Kimber on the forehead.

“Bye,” Kimber replied as she pulled away from her Ma and sprinted off towards the school grounds.

School was something of a dread to Kimber. She had no friends, save for her teachers, but even they regarded her with that same look that everyone else did, just much less defined. In past years, some of her classmates had gone so far as to cruelly tease her for the rumors. They had said that she was keeping secrets, and that her parents were traitors. That had only happened once, though. Kimber LaStell came from a wealthy and powerful family, so the rumors were only whispered behind her back. The other kids thought she didn't know but she would hear them whispering. She would catch words like freak and secret and magic. For a long time, she hadn't known what they had meant, but now she did, and she hated them. She hated the words and she hated the kids that said them.