Controlled

Chapter 1 - The Gift

         Maybe it's fate. Though much closer in resemblance to a curse. It's a burden I will have to carry on my back for the rest of my life, a life I cannot end, despite that I am not nearly strong enough to. Not only that, but I've forced this immense heavy burden onto the backs of others, mere strangers even, wholly lacking their consent, only earning them enigmatic misery that they have no chance of unlatching. I've earned death.

         This gift, as it was dubbed as, I don't want it. I would trade everything to return it, but I don't even know who so generous, but so stupid granted it to me, or if it was meant to be a gift at all. I don't know how. And I don't know why. The only thing I know is that it's there. I cant take it off my back. I can't make it disappear. I am forced to be everyone's worst nightmare and dreadfully my own. I am my own calamity and my own lethal sin sent here from Hell. I am a mind controller.

                                        2 YEARS AGO - AGE 13

           I have no idea why. Or what exactly I did wrong. Three grils suddenly attacked me. I ran, but they yanked at my haor in protest, slamming me into the wall of lockers, with the piercing eyes of every student focused on us. As my head cane crashing into the locker door I instantly felt the blood trickle down my skull, tangling with my hair. It t ok o ly one of the girls to hold my frail, meager body back while the others took turns punching me. I swear they were having a competition I see who could punch me the hardest. I have the permanent scars to prove it. The blows on my head retired to my chest and stomach, painting me more. I felt the tears spill from my eyes and coalesce with the blood from my nose. With one more blow to the chest, I couldn't breathe. I was gasping for air, coughing and screaming in pain and crying alk at the same time as the punches kept coming. Harder and harder. It was almost as if they were mad at me. I dropped to my knees and their feet, mostly out of solely pain, but through my thick sobs I begged for them to stop. The girl who had restrained me, grabbed me by my collar and hoisted me to my feet. "You're lucky I'm going easy on you" the girl who had inflicted the most damage announced, "you pathetic shit of a bitch!" I had done nothing to her. I forced my fist full of rage and anger into her bbc.co gut, sending her stumbling back. But she remained on her feet, and gathered herself with ease, standing threateningly, ready to kill me. The other two slowing backed away as she strides towards me. Her fust were clenched and her face was a deep red. She reminded me of a devil. Everyone's voices immediately blurred out as she forcefully shoved me into the lockers. I was angry. This girl had hurt me for no reason, earning me pain, scars and casualties, for nothing I did. I had done absolutely nothing to her. Nothing.

          I spit at her and with every ounce of strength left in me, I demanded, "Go to Hell." Instantly she fell to the ground. The two other girls fled , disappearing into the growing crowd. 

          I bent down, listening for shoulder a heartbeat, a sign of breathing, anything! There was nothing there. She was dead. I ran out if the building through th nearest exit, crying more than I had been when she was beating me up, but craving escape. I just sent a girl to Hell.