Idea #1

Untitled Part 1

"Why can't you do anythin' right?" he spat. His eyes full of rage, breath reeking of alcohol. "You're a weak, stupid boy. Never could do anythin' right".

I couldn't speak, didn't want to if I could muster the words to say what I wished. I despised how I was when I was around him, how sparse I tried to make that time.

"Goin' to say somethin', boy?"

I could see he was growing tired of my silence, but nothing I could say would ever be the right thing for him. I knew where this was going. The bruises had faded from the last time this happened. I remembered the pain though, the fear, I would never forget that.

"I'm sorry father, I know... I know I never do anything right."

I hated apologizing. It felt as though I was apologizing for even existing, for being shoved into his life. I don't think he had ever wanted me, not after what I had taken from him.

My mother. I knew very little about her. She had died bringing me into this world and he hated me for taking her from him. He'd told me that often. Living was my first mistake in his mind. The first of a long line in my life. After she'd passed his life had gone into a spiral. He'd been unable to cope with the loss, which led to drinking. He quickly lost everything he had built for himself and to him, it was all my fault.

"You say that but I can tell yer don't mean it. You never have. You'd rather ruin the lives of everyone around you."

His hands started twitching in anger. I braced for what was to come. It always ended like this. Pain, it always ended in pain and sorrow.

I didn't know that I had started crying, but it was what pushed him over the edge that time. My face stung with the force of his hit. I could taste the blood from where I undoubtedly had a split lip. I had barely enough time to register the pain before I was shoved back. All the air rushing out of my lungs when I collided with the dirt floor.

"What're you cryin' for? You always were too weak for anythin' a man should be able to handle. You're sixteen and can't even stomach a fight." He spat on me then, waiting.

Waiting for me to say something, anything that would make him want to hit me again. I didn't speak this time. Fear and rage kept my mind from forming words to answer.

"Just like I thought. Somethin' else you can't get right. All started from the day you was brought into this world and took her from me."

I saw the pain in his eyes then, just for a flicker of a moment, quickly to be replaced by that anger against me again. He pulled back his arm readying for another punch.

I braced myself again not wanting to endure this anymore. I was tired of it. All of my worthless life I dealt with these spiteful words and his fists. Not any longer. I wasn't weak for the way I was. I could be strong. I would be strong, for her. For the mother I never knew. Who I know would have loved me for who I was.

Before his blow landed, quicker than a blink of the eye. He flew backward, a wall of hard air between us. I must've been gaping at it as much as him. Our eyes connected and the wall was gone. I could see the fear in his eyes then. Fear and disgust and hatred.

"Get out." he said, softly. Softer than I had ever heard him speak. I was still reeling at what had happened. Had I done that? What even was that? Magic?

No, It couldn't be. Regular humans like me didn't possess those powers. I had to deny it. It was just another mistake to add to the list. One that could get me killed.

"Get out" he said again, louder this time. "You bastard, get out! Don't you never come back either! I should tell the guard about you right now!"

Panic flared inside me. Out, I had to get out. Out of this house, out of this village, Just out. I couldn't stay.

"You were the biggest mistake we ever made" He looked at me then. All of those feelings I could see swimming in his eyes. And I turned away and walked out.