A Singular Gift

(The title and cover of this book has been changed to fit the content better. The former title was Something Wicked.)

I never dreamed magic was real until my grandmother gave me the box just before she died. She told me to use the box carefully and that I was the only one who could use the box and the artifacts until I passed it on to someone else, that it rested on my shoulders now. But she didn't tell me what "it" was.

At first I used the magic as a toy. I mean, what fourteen-year-old wouldn't? Doesn't everyone wish she could do magic?

Soon I had to show my two best friends. Wayne, my oldest best friend, grew up with me. Karen, my new best friend, only moved to our town last year. Wayne helped me learn to use my magic, while Karen became obsessed with my box and kept trying to talk me into giving it to her.

Horrible things happened. People almost died. Why did so many people want my magic box? With a sense of urgency hanging over me, I had to learn to use my new powers fast.
Imagine my fear when I read Grandma's journals and found what she expected me to use the magical powers for.

How could I possibly do this?

How could I not try?