REVERA

Part One- Chapter 1: Caristania

The Carrie in my mind is something between Bridget Satterlee and Amber Heard if you want a clearer picture. Of course, let your own imagination run wild if you wish to do so. Bianca's name HAS BEEN CHANGED! It's now Zemira, or Zee for short.

Fire.

Bright, burning, dazzling fire.

That is what I feel running through my veins this time.

It isn't pain, no. It's just a feeling.

And the immense power that comes with it. Pure, raw power that wants to be unleashed. That demands to be.

The feeling is getting more overwhelming by the moment. I have to let it out. Now.

But there is a problem. I'm sitting at the dining table. With my step-parents. I'm going to harm them, and I'm sure of it.

I must get out.

I try to force the fire down as much as I can, as I turn toward Sabina and croak, 'May I take a walk? It's quite warm in here.' Thank the gods, it's late July.

'Sure, if you've finished your lunch.'

'I have.' As soon as that last word escapes me, I'm out the door.

And then I'm running. I don't bother with shoes. My hands are already on fire, the blue stone of my bracelet glowing as the flames envelope it. I wait for pain or burning, but as usual, it doesn't come. It didn't come with the ice, water, or air either. Or any of the other, like the earth and mud or the light. I desperately rub my palms on my jeans as if I can wipe the fire away. I feel my eyes change colour. Probably a burning orange.

I stop running when I see I've reached the beach. Finally.

And then,

I let myself explode. I let the fire take control of me, and I let it escape and pour out of my hands in a steady flow, just the way it wants to. And the worst part of this is that I feel... good. There is no pain. I just feel pleasant, like releasing this strange fire has made me feel better.

It shouldn't feel like this. It should hurt, be painful. I almost burned down my house a few years ago on my birthday. Sabina and Cosmin think it was an accident, and that the candle had fallen. Little do they know that it was their stupid, strange, foster daughter who had done it.

I'm a freak.

I couldn't be more thankful for the sand and water around me. Despite that, an Evian bottle and a few other plastic items that are littered on the sand still catch fire, because now, the fire is not only flowing out of my hands but my entire body. I am covered in a ball of fire, its radius increasing every second, moving away from me, not just reddish orange, but blues and greens and yellows, trying to consume everything it touches.

It suddenly begins getting smaller. I can feel the power of the fire decreasing. It rushes towards me, melding with my body, and then, it's gone.

There is no fire on me.

I expected to be exhausted; that was my biggest outburst yet, but I am pumped with adrenaline.

I am about to force myself to sit down to calm myself when I see the still-burning plastic. I feel a little guilty for it.

This time I  summon the water. Not from the beach, but from myself. I've been training for this after all. If you could call what I do "training". Four years ago, ever since I found out I had this, I have worked toward controlling it, summoning it at will, using it. And I've become very good at it.

I let the cool, soothing feeling flow through my body.

A drop of water forms on my palm. It worked. Despite everything, I smile. Despite the fact that I almost killed the people I loved with this strange ability in me. Despite the fact that I am a freak, and I will never be normal. Despite the fact that one day, inevitably, using this ability will kill me.