Growing trees at the touch of a hand can become quite annoying at times. Especially when I didn't want to do it. Flowers bloomed when unnecessary and the earth around me rose when I got embarrassed. I could feel my chest begin to tighten when things like this began to happen. It was like I was a tree itself. My bones were the trunk and my skin the leaves.
As I grew older, the vines around my ankles grew longer, pulling themselves up towards my knees and now my mid-thighs. A few leaves or small roses here and there.
I used to be called a 'freak' or 'weirdo' at my normal school, because the vines we're actually STUCK to my legs and you couldn't cut them off, because it hurt, badly. But when I was a teenager I discovered a school that was more... Suited for kids like me.
They taught me how to control and use my 'power' properly. Or how to defend myself, shooting arrows made of the strongest wood to plunge into my victims stomach. I didn't like that idea, and I thought I would never use my gift that way. But here I am.
Here I am making cages from thorns and arrows from what seemed branches off a tree. Fighting with three of my friends to save ourselves and everyone else. Thousands upon thousands came crawling in, trying to terminate everyone who is gifted.
When the plants started to slow, I knew:
This was the end.
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Small Stories
Подростковая литератураJust a collection of small stories I'm writing, requests are open, just DM me and I'll make it happen :)
