This is going to sound more cliche than a vampire/werewolf fanfiction romance written by a twelve year old female, but I'm not like average teens.
No, I'm not about to confess my immortality, come out as a vampire/werewolf, or explain my mutant traits. Rather, this is something much, much cooler. Erm... hotter. No, wait, that doesn't make sense yet. Dammit, I'm butchering this. Sorry, bear with me. Okay. Big reveal.
I can manipulate and create fire.
I've had this ability for as long as I can remember. No, I didn't receive any 'power bracelets' or 'magic necklaces' or whatever as an infant. I'm simply a living, walking miracle.
I never really knew if there were others like me. If there was anyone who'd understand me. Whether or not I should keep this a secret from everyone. Luckily, as a child, I decided to keep these powers a secret between the most trustworthy people I knew.
Myself, and my imaginary friend, Skylark. God, Skylark was the best.
Anyway, that aside. High school was probably the roughest point in time for me. Hands down.
I remember barely being able to contain my powers, after years and years of keeping them at bay. I was slowly starting to achieve more friends, all of them close and trustworthy. You see my struggle.
My usual release would happen once or twice a week, weather allow. I'd head outside, go into the comfort of the woods, and allow fire to dance over my fingers. I had a few close calls, neighbors thinking I was out there smoking weed on multiple occasions, almost catching a couple trees on fire... Shit like that. But my body needed to use this power. Otherwise, it basically feels like housing a furious inferno inside your soul.
But anyway, as great as it was to have such kind and amazing friends, I still felt... out of place. Ya know? I had a huge secret I still couldn't tell anyone. No one related to me in the sense of having a power.
So, honestly, being a priceless walking miracle sucked sometimes. All I could have to distinguish myself from others realistically was warmth, the colour red, and my ashen eyes.
YOU ARE READING
Forger
FantasyAiden Locklear has a gift. Not the kind you receive in a package, but rather, one you receive at birth. Needless to say, he's not sure how to use it to the best of his ability. Yet.
