Mortal Arena

Ophelia

Ophelia- "aid" and "help".

That's what my name means, which is quite ironic for someone whose power is to rot.

The little I remember of my life when I still had my mom was that I loved to touch, I loved to hug, loved to touch her arm and hands, caress my mom's long hair and kiss her warm cheeks.
I got my power with 7, all the kids started to discover their hability after 5 and it was the most important moment of someone's life. After getting your power you must registrate it on your official documents and test it to some people from the government, the parents were always reluctant and nervous at that part of the process but me as a child never thought much of it.

Since very young I've always been bullied, one of the most common nicknames I've got was "freak", overthinking it for years I started to actually find a lot of sense in it.
I was always too quiet or too loud, I couldn't keep myself balanced in a between, my emotions didn't differ from that, sometimes I would be crying my heart out and sometimes hitting things and being destructive, other of my nicknames was "crybaby" for a reason.

The last class of the day, we were learning how to plant seeds and grow them out, at that point everyone had at least a avarege plant and some leafs, I had the smallest one which was planted by the teacher after all my attempts to grow it by myself failed. If not frustrating enough for a child to not be able to do something as simple, I tried talking some positivity to the little plant.

-You are beautiful today Miss plant, I am gonna give you some water okay?
I say in a whisper, a small smile of reassurance on my lips.

I reach my hand to the small leaf so I can caress it like if petting a small animal.
My soft smile drops as the green leaf turns brown and then black wrinkled, the part I touch dissolves on my finger and turns into dust.

I pull my hand away scared, that had never happened before even with my horrible traits on growing plants.
My surprise catches the attention of a boy that in no time starts a commotion over it, the children all start to gossip and call me a freak, now with some real reason. The bell rings right at time and I rush to get the things from my locker, I just wanted to go home.

Behind me, the same boy abruptly grabs my uniform on my shoulder and turns me around, I move my hand towards his to take it away and as our skin makes contact he lets out a loud scream, a scream with so much pain and truth on it that it sent chills down my spine instantly.
He falls backwards on the floor, holding his hand and crying out loud. Blood all over the floor, I look at his hand and 3 of the fingers are bones with little skin on it, it looked like someone had thrown sulfuric acid over. Disgusting, the most disgusting and terrifying scenes I saw in my 7 years of life.

A bunch of teachers and students ran towards the scream, as they meet with the horrific scene the teachers froze, the children started crying and screaming in panic.
Some were looking at me frightened and a teacher started calling the ambulance, other started calling the police.

If one thing my mom told me of at that age was that I should at all costs keep away from the police, don't get in trouble and be a "good girl".
In a desperate attempt I go to the teacher and I pull her phone away, my hand accidentally touches her finger and in 1 second her skin starts dissolving, showing all the layers before she turns into a liquid pile of blood and small rests of meat.
The phone drops from my hand and I back away without watching my behinds.
I then bump onto one of my bullies, I had only enough time to see his mortified face before the same process happened.

So much adrenaline runs through my body, my heart beating so fast I could hear it, my chest going up and down in panic and the screams and flashbacks of it all, filling my mind as I ran out the school.

I open the door from home panting loudly, just to find my mom baking her classic strawberry pie.
My eyes water and I instantly start crying, she watches me and her face turns into worry as she get closer.

-St... Stay away!

I scream between sobs, my hands tremble and tears stream down my eyes.
She stops for a second and before any words come out her mouth a loud sound of a shoot interrupts her abruptly, not only her words but her life as a bullet goes through her forehead.
I stop crying, I stop making sounds, my mom is dead in front of me? Who shot her? Why? Why? Why?

Slowly I crawl towards her. A pool of blood spreads across the floor, her skin starts turning pale and her expression, lifeless. With little to no time for my grief I feel a sting in my arm, as I look at it a dart sticks into my skin, my body gets numb before my conscience goes away.

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I kinda hate this chapter but- yeahh.
I probably commit a lot of mistakes in the temporal line in which I am talking.
Forgive me for them, I'll try to revise it when I am not falling in pieces from sleep.

This is my very first ?? Idk what to call it in English, it's a lot of a test.

The character here was telling/ situating what happened when she was 7.
Next chapter will be the present.