The number sixteen for the family was a rather special number. To be specific, it was when any family member turned sixteen that it was an extremely special occasion.
Anyone with the Baudelaire family blood in their veins would have their powers come to them at the age of sixteen. Some saw it as a gift, some saw it as a burden. I saw it as a thing that would happen tomorrow on my sixteenth birthday.
For the past few weeks I had been trying to guess what my powers would be. My cousin Percival said that the girls only got the quiet powers, while the boys were bestowed with the most “awesome” ones. What a misogynist. I hate him. But, unfortunately, it was true. Take for example my cousin Fiona who could talk to animals. That was all. On the other hand, there was my grandfather, who injured quite a few guests at his sixteenth birthday party with his rather explosive powers. That was also one of the reasons, despite the occasion, there were no parties bursting at the seams with guests thrown from that incident onwards.
But that was besides the point. I was fizzling with excitement, but I did my best to contain it and, to be honest, I was doing a pretty good job. However, my parents would squeal like children and babble nervously whenever the topic of my sixteenth birthday arose. My little brother Matthew would gaze with wide eyes at me whenever I walked past. All this made me faintly annoyed.
The sky was beginning to darken, and the first few stars dotted the sky. Not very long after, the perfectly round moon was in its place. My excitement grew as the seconds ticked by. Tomorrow was approaching.
It was with a rapidly beating and expectant heart that I pulled the covers over myself and fell asleep.