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[3] Powers and Name Calling (Age 14, Important Year 3)

Remember when I said that it happened? Yea, well, I've been diagnosed with a problem. A major problem. 

I can control the elements.

It seems astronomical, but it's true. Label me as a freak, because that's what I am. That's why my hands burn, go numb, feel light, heavy, like air or water. This is why I shock the doctors when they grab me. I'm a danger to everyone, and I'm still on this ship! My anger management hasn't been getting better, so that sucks. And, I don't see my dad as much these days. That makes me even angrier. I agreed to board this ship in order to see my dad full time, and that fell through a deep hole. I just paced around my room, trying to not lose it. I had already set fire to my bed, which I put out with fire hydrant power water streams. I sat on my bed, playing with my hands. Nothing was the same anymore. I'm a freak, and my world is crashing down. No one would stand me, not that they would try. I mean, you take one look at what I can do, and you'll scream and call me a freak. I'm used to it, since it's been a year since I found out. I felt like blasting my music, which is loud, screamer music, so that's just what I did. I started blasting The Anthem by Good Charlotte, and I sang along. It's true, I didn't want to be like my dad anymore, or my mom. I didn't want to abandon anyone ever, so I tried hard not to. Nothing makes sense to me anymore. It's hard and heartbreaking. The only light of my dreary world was the fact that dad would bring me a Coke-Cola everyday. He said I needed to keep my sugar intake up, so we drank together. We would smile at each other, but after we both finished, he would kiss the top of my head and leave me alone again.

"Stupid powers, stupid mother." I grumbled, snapping back to reality. I got my powers from my mother, no doubt. I hate her for it. I hate lots of people, but so far, she's on the top of the list. I grumbled, created a rock in the palm of my hand, and threw it against the wall. I almost punctured the wall, but that would've made me happier. Nothing is ever fixed, so holes are just a part of everyday life. I continued grumbling, and the next song came on. It was The Phoenix by Fall Out Boy. I love that song, only because I'm like a Phoenix when my fire powers are activated. My bracelet was like one of those neon tattoo parlor signs, glowing brightly. I was so tempted to take it off and throw it across the room, but I kept myself from doing just that. 

"Control your anger. Control it. You're better that this. You're strong, brave, and...What else am I?" I wondered out loud. 

'Freak, misfit, weirdo, screw-up.' played through my mind. That's what I am. I groaned, picked up my pillow, and pressed it onto my face. I yelled into the pillow, but my anger still stayed. Nothing was working, and I swear Fury wanted me to be a test subject or something. See how much I could withstand. Extreme temperatures, lighting strikes, and pretty much anything. I can and will use all of my power of refuse and struggle, and nothing is ever easy. I closed my eyes, my face still hidden behind the pillow, and tried to sleep. But, sleep is impossible when a knock is heard outside your door, and someone enters.

"Cynthia? Sweetheart?" Dad called softly. I removed the pillow from my face, and sat up with open eyes. In his hands he held two Coke-Cola cans, ready to be opened. I smiled a little, and he walked over to me, holding out one of the cans. I took it, and we popped the tops at the same time. We tapped the cans together and took a sip, just like we used to. I smiled, and he ruffled my hair.

"I miss this..." He said. I nodded, knowing that we only had a few more moments together, before work scooped him up and carried him away. We drank in silence, and my thought train was racing along its tracks. I glanced at my bracelet, like always, to see it wasn't glowing anymore. I smiled, and took a small sip of my drink. Dad finished his, and waited for me to finish mine. When I did, he took the can from me, and stood up. He pressed a light kiss to the top of my head and left the room. I sighed, pulled my knees up to my chest, and started to cry. I haven't cried in years, and they seemed to be silent sobs. Only ones I could hear, and they were inaudible to others. This made me feel better, knowing that no one would hear my distress. Maybe I wasn't brave, or strong, or anything. Perhaps, I was just a screw-up, like everyone used to call me in grade school. I'll never find any friends, and I'll always be cooped up here, like a Disney Princess who waits patiently for her Prince Charming. Not me, and least, not now. I'm never off of this ship, so I'll have to give it time, right? As long as Fury leaves me alone, I have those little moments with my dad, and Agent Hill continues to ignore me, I feel like nothing can go wrong. I looked over at my iPod, and the song was Unwritten by Natasha Bedingfield. Wow, that's appropriate for the moment. I chuckled at my thoughts, and stood up. I paced around my room again, singing along. As I walked around, I felt my hands get numb, and ice shot out at the ground, making me slip. I hit the ground with a thud, and it hurt really bad.

"Stupid ice. I'll die because of it..." I grumbled, my patience with my own powers growing thin. I stood up cautiously, and slid over to my bed. I sat back down, and melted the ice with soft flames. I lay down on my bed, resting my head on the pillows. My music still played, but softer this time. I closed my eyes slowly, hoping that I could finally sleep. I didn't want any dreams, though. Dreams just ruin everything, because someone always crushes them on you. And no one really enjoys that, do they?