*all rights to the original author*
I cried all the way home from school that day. I’m not proud of that, but I’m not ashamed of it either. I mean, how many people have to worry not about being who they are, but just being in general.
Being Camila Cabello is a lot of responsibility that I never asked for. It’s also responsibility that I wasn’t prepared for, don’t want, and shouldn’t have to deal with. Especially not alone.
I cried because it wasn’t fair that I had to reject Lauren. Turning her down was the responsible thing to do. It just sucked. I didn’t want to, and I shouldn’t have to when all the other kids my age are busy hooking up.
But at the same time, a nonexistent social life isn’t the end of the world. I was definitely being a little dramatic, but I think I chose to dwell on Lauren more than I needed to in order to forget about all the other reasons I was crying.
I pulled it together when I got home, though, because I didn’t want to have to explain everything to my mom. I’d managed to calm myself and stop the tears, but the minute I walked in the door, my mom knew something was up. She took one look at me and rushed over like a good mom should. She wrapped her arms around me, and I yelped when she squeezed me because even though I’d walked away from the accident, I think I may have jammed my shoulder and bruised myself from head to toe.
"What’s the matter? Are you okay?"
"There was an accident," I mumbled, unable to keep it from her, "and I tried to stop it." I couldn’t tell if she was upset with me or not, but she was definitely overwhelmed by the news. I hoped she wasn’t angry with me, but I wasn’t too concerned about her. Dad would be worse. She simply started with the standard "Are you hurt?"
"Depends on your definition of the word."
"Was anyone else hurt?"
"No, but they would have been."
After I filled her in on the details, my mom sat quietly for a moment, then forced a smile. "Well. I’m very proud of you, honey."
"Yeah but, Mom, I was smashed by a giant marquee, only I left the dents in it!" My mom hugged me again, a new wave of fear taking her over. "Camila, your father and I have talked with you about this."
"I know."
"Sweetheart, you are an extraordinary young woman, but you’re not Superwoman. We don’t really know how your powers work. What if you’d gotten hurt?"
"But what was I supposed to do? That man would have died. Was I just supposed to watch it happen, knowing I could have helped?"
"It’s not your responsibility to save people. If God wants them he’ll take them."
"Then why didn’t he take me?" I exploded.
I jumped back, putting some distance between us before I could hurt her. I felt bad for losing control, but I wasn’t yelling at her, I was just yelling, and I think she knew that. Aside from Vero, if there’s any other subject that could cause a citywide power outage, it’s God. Considering I’d already fried the circuits once this week, I took a deep breath, but I couldn’t help asking, "Didn’t he want me?" I know that sounds like a really juvenile question, but you try being in my shoes for a while and see how much you really know the answer.
"Of course he does."
"Then how come instead of letting me go to heaven like everyone else, he left me behind and turned me into some kind of freak?"
"You’re not a freak, Camila. You’re just different. You can still have a no—"
"I can’t have a normal life, Mom! I can’t go to things like dances and football games like everyone else, because I’m too busy trying not to listen to every conversation around me. I can’t have close friends because I’m too worried about what lie I’ll have to tell them if they ask me a question I can’t answer. And dating is out of the question! I can’t even kiss someone without turning them into the Energizer bunny!"
