Small Stories

The Touch of Water

My childhood was extraordinary. There were both, upsides, and downsides. The upside? Being able to control the element of water. Do you know how many water fights I won because of it? A lot. The downside? Being called a freak. A monster. A witch. None of them knew me. They still don't. But here I am, fighting for their lives. 

My mama and papa gave me up for adoption when I was five. When they figured out I possesed such great power, they didn't want anything to do with me. I was adopted by a kind man. He said he knew what it felt like. He too could bend an elemement. It wasn't water. In fact, the exact opposite. He could control fire.

When I was old enough he admitted me to a school for special kids like me. I felt like I was at home there.

As the years went by, I found out that the school was my home. And my friends were my family. My papa whom adopted me died when I was fifteen. He was murdered by those who are against the gifted. The 'no-gifts' as we call them. The normal people of the world.

When I use my talent, I feel as though I'm drowning, like I'm covered by what lays in my hands. I feel it running up my legs and onto my stomach. I feel it filling my lungs, but I can still breathe. 

Looking around now I see the no-gifts starting to crumble. We are winning. We can't stop now. I drown this one and make the other swim. But as I look around for a second time I see the no-gifts, turning to ash, a crisp at the fire benders feet, the no-gifts getting swallowed by the ground and getting trapped by vine cages, the no-gifts being blown away, quite literally. But above all, I see the no-gifts losing. 

This is not the end.