Cordelia Goode: Pain Is A Virtue [1]

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When you were younger, you always wondered what life would be like if you were a witch. You would play pretend in your backyard, willing objects to move, setting things on fire and making potions. You loved how your imagination could do whatever you wanted. However when your real life began to imitate your imagination, the hope for being something magical faded away.

The first time you used your powers was when your friend was going through a break up. You invited her over for a movie night and she sat on the lounge, emotionless. You reached out to touch her arm and was instantly overwhelmed by sadness, anger and then numbness. You knew deep down they weren't your own feelings but began to wonder if they were hers. You kept quiet, quickly withdrawing your hand. From then on, you were determined to figure out what was going on.

As you slowly explored your new abilities, you began to realise exactly what they were. Witch powers. No matter who they were, you were able to empathise with them, take on their emotions and feel them as your own. You became too vocal about your ability, using them when you deemed necessary. People began to notice, they would whisper about you, exclude you from their circles. You slowly lost your friends and family one by one until there was no one left to lose. You were now all alone in a world that was cruel to your kind. That's when Cordelia found you, she heard of your story and wanted to help you harness your abilities. She offered guidance and an environment to safely practice magic. You were hesitant at first, jumping back and forth between your past and your future. You said "fuck it" and went with the beautiful woman. Besides you had nothing else to lose but hopefully more to gain.

You've been attending the academy for a few years now, coexisting with other witches. You've enjoyed discovering your history and exploring your powers. However that wasn't the highlight for you, it was finding the one you love, Cordelia Goode. Over the years, you two became inseparable. You would never see one without the other, but this wasn't seen as a bad thing. You were Cordelia's rock, especially after her good for nothing husband, Hank. You were there for her when she cried herself to sleep, you would do everything you could to make her smile. Most of all you showed her love, something she has been missing for a long time. To you Cordelia was your home, someone that pushed you to be your very best. She's was there for you when no one else was and helped you discover the strength within you.

This love that you had found with Cordelia, was exactly what you needed to expand your power. You discovered that you could also feel another's pain. It started with Cordelia, you could feel her headaches or when she got a paper cut. Whatever pain she felt, you would experience it as well. Then it spread to the other witches in the house, except for Queenie. Thankfully you couldn't feel her pushing pain on to someone else. She would drive you mad with the amount of stunts she pulls.

At first this new addition was fun, you felt like you could help your friends when they needed it. But as time went on you developed a hatred for it. The more you understood your powers, the more pain you could feel. In your eyes, this power was no longer a gift, it was a curse. Every little injury within the house would effect you, no matter how serious it was. It got to the point where you couldn't take it anymore, you would rather feel nothing than this torture.

You were laying in your bed, curled in a ball from the pain in your stomach. You were screaming, begging and crying all at once, praying that it would fade away. Cordelia came running in, worry evident on her face. She pulled you close to her and rubbed circles on your back.

"My love are you okay? What's happening?" She tried her best to sound neutral but you could hear the panic in her voice.

"It hurts so badly Delia, please make it stop, I can't take it anymore" You winced at the pain, grabbing at your stomach, clawing the pain away.

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