When I look back on my life, I know I haven't had a normal upbringing. I look at the world and I see people trying to be unique and wanting to put their own print on the world. They don't understand that being normal is something to cherish, something that you shouldn't take for granted. I would give everything that I have got to be normal, just to be able to be a shadow in this world.
The first four years of my life was the closest thing I got to normal, but I don't remember much as you would expect. My first memory is something out of the ordinary; I remember that we just had a power cut, a blackout. We all had gathered together in the living room - like most families do on such occasions.
Granddad and I had the job of lighting the candles around the living room: we were on the last two. I remember thinking he could do magic, he would click his finger and thumb together and the candle would light up. He didn't have to use a match or a lighter, the flame magically appeared.
I was completely amazed and utterly baffled. Wanting to do that same as him, I grabbed my personal white candle and started to click my own fingers.
Click, click, click - Nothing.
I frowned at my Granddad, who smiled kindly down at me. "One day, young Liss, you'll be able to do it." He patted my shoulder and walked over to sit by my Grandma. As he sat down he carried on watching me with an amused expression on his face. I pushed my tongue out, in concentration. Click, click, click - Nothing.
How does he do it? I mused. With all my heart I wanted to do magic just like he could. I picked up his candle and played make-believe.
Click, click... I screamed - from the bottom of my lungs, I screamed so loud that I wondered why glasses and mirrors weren't breaking. My hand was on fire and I didn't know how I did it. My fingers were inches away, not close enough to catch fire.
Out of nowhere, water splashed on to my hand and made a sizzling sound. Steam rose and twirled into the air. I held my burnt hand tightly, scared that if I moved it, it would hurt. My mum rushed over and took me into her arms, hushing reassurances whilst she rocked me back and forth on her lap. Everyone in the room was silent. I looked up and everyone's face was completely and utterly shocked. Except one, Granddad, he just looked at me and grinned.
I looked down at my hand and I was mesmerized, there wasn't a single burn mark there. My fingers tingled but my hand was perfectly fine, except for the faint red glow that surrounded my whole hand. I snuggled into my mother trying to forget about what had just happened.
I think your story is really good, but this piece. Well, I think you could add more in the beginning, but I'm no expert, so do as you wish-really. I love it. Keep writing. 
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