Small Stories

The Touch of Air

This gift I have comes very... Handy sometimes. With a swish of a hand I can basically move anything without worrying about it. Something's heavy? Flick your hand and it's moved. Want to get from one place to another, but you're too lazy to walk? Flick your hand and your flying. Someone's annoying you? Flick your hand and they're at the other side of the room. Not roughly of course.
I've never used my talent in public. So I went to a normal school with normal people and I acted normal. No biggie. But when I got home, I was like Matilda. I was moving anything and everything. Making mini tornados in the palm of my hand and floating around my room.
When I was in my mid teens my mother found out about the 'school for gifted children' and put me in it straight away. I was the only child in the school that controlled air. I felt different but I knew I was strong. I felt as though I could take on the world, but I wanted to hide from it and it's words at the same time.
Right now was one of them moments. I wanted to hide until all of this fighting was over. I wanted it all to stop. But, of course, I was in the middle of it.
I throw my hands in front of me, bending the wind to turn the spears they were throwing at us away. I could feeling the power radiating off my hands as it shoots five or so people down with a terrible force. But as soon as they were down, another five took their place and they just kept coming. I looked around me in the area we were in. We were failing. The gifted falling and dying.
When I saw another two fall and the sound of their skulls crushing as they got stepped on, I knew:
This was the end.