When Wishes go Wrong: A Fantasy/Dystopia

Hi! This story is from my own brain. (not for a contest or anything.) I want to be an author, and I figure this is the best place to get constructive criticism right now. (note: this is copy-pasted from Google Docs, so I will update it in large chunks.)

This story is intriguing. There are dragons and fairies, but it's set in 2364. There are wishes and wonders, but also family feuds and villains who will slaughter anyone. There are evil loved ones and benevolent demons.

There is fear.

With that, here's my story!

Chapter 1.
It was the day of Andrew’s Third Wish. Eva had made her own Second Wish two months before. It had been a strange feeling to have the gray light wash around her, granting her protection from sunburn. She had heard that the Third Wish felt even more amazing. After the Cosmic War and the gift of the now-dormant faerie Lælix, their town had been graced with the Wishes. Six Wishes over the course of your life. Six chances to change your life forever. Well, five, Eva thought, watching her brother eat lunch. The First Wish wasn’t powerful. Your First Wish came on your seventh birthday. You could wish for something material, even if magical. Andrew had wished for a marble that changed color. Eva had wished for a magic power, but of course that hadn’t worked. Her friend Caleb had wished for a bike. Lola had wished for a puppy that never grew old. The Second Wish came on your thirteenth birthday. You wished for something that could protect you. Eva’s had been against sunburn. Andrew had wished for protection against papercuts. Caleb had wished against scrapes, Lola against rabies. Two wishes, Four and Five, had to do with family. You wished for something to do with your family. It had to be benevolent. You could wish for a daughter, or for your grandmother to go peacefully. These came at 30 and 50. Then there were the Third Wish and Sixth Wish. These were like the wishes of legend. The Open Sesame and genies in lamps. The Cinderella and leprechauns. Pots of gold and rainbows. You could wish for anything. Any Thing. The Third Wish came at 21, the age Andrew was today. The better (or worse) the wish, the greater chance it would fail. I Wish For Five Bucks? Definitely. I Wish For A Puppy? An unlikely wish to make, but a likely one to come true. I Wish For A House? Could happen. I Wish For A Million Bucks? Unlikely. I Wish To Live Forever? Likely not going to happen. I Wish For More Wishes? That never worked, and everyone knew it. The probability went down when you got to wishes that would harm others. I Wish For Him To Get A Cold? 70%. I Wish For Him To Get A Cut? 85%. I Wish He Would Get Hit By A Bus? 30% or less. “Eva,” her father’s voice chided. She pulled out of her reverie to look toward him. He was a well-built man in his late forties. “Get out of your head and thank your mother for the food.” “Thanks, Mom,” Eva said, tucking into her mashed potatoes. After the Teczer strike, most technology had gone kaput, so they had been growing their own food for decades. Eva’s great-great-great grandparents had both been something called Human Resources Workers. (something Eva didn’t understand. How could a human be a resource? It had been a half-thousand years since slavery.) Eva’s family still hadn’t mastered farming, and the potatoes were lumpy. “Whadda you think you’ll wish for?” Eva asked her brother. He jumped a little, looking up. His pale face, which had hollowed out in the last year, was gaunt. It made him look almost good, Eva had to admit, although she’d never say that to his annoyingly distant face. His hollow look enunciated his black hair, making him look like a hybrid vampire-human. He and Eva looked nothing alike, excluding the black hair. Even then, her hair was long and silky, his short and messy. Eva’s face was more filled out and more tanned. Andrew had done nothing but stay in his room for a year, which was why he looked like he’d never seen the sun. As for the hollowness, he was probably nervous. That was to be expected in the week before the Third Wish.