How to Hide (And Use) Your Supernatural Abilities 101
- Reads 22
- Votes 1
- Parts 2
Ongoing19m
Last published Thu, Jul 5, 2018
I used to be the Supernatural Annihilation Agency's best Field Agent. I was at the top. Then I broke the rules and was knocked down to the very bottom, to the Research Department.
It's been two years since Karl died, and I'm just barely getting over it when I meet Cameron Dallas. I bring him back to SAA, only to find that I have to train him to be one of us.
As i struggle not to fall for Cameron, I begin to learn the truth about the Karl's death, that apparently was more a mystery than I thought. I have to unlearn everything I thought I knew, open my eyes to the world I tried so hard not to be apart of, and figure out who to trust and who not to.
Maybe if I had tried a little bit harder to hide my secret, I would't be going against everything I thought I lived for. Maybe I wouldn't be torn between helping the people like me... or destroying them...
...Like the people closest to me.
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A few months ago, I bought a mug with gold gilt. On sale. Not a gift either nor because of an occasion to remember by it. Just plain, pretty mug for 15PLN. I drank my coffee from it since. I spat loose tea leaves into it. It never felt particularly significant. An ordinary object. Only when I lost it, I realised its true value. I sat comfortably at my desk one evening. Looking at my phone, I reached to take my song-text notebook. Trivial situation. My clumsy fingers were unable to avoid the mug. They allowed it to topple over, to slip from the desktop. Even though I did not see the split-second occurrence, I felt the pressure of unease. My head painted the trajectory of the fall on its own, the shattering, spillage. The loss. For a millisecond I still had hope, that I would be able to catch the mug, that I would be able to avoid what was about to happen. But I knew I was headed for failure. I don't have any superpowers. I only scalded my fingers. I looked at the mug's new shape for a long while, at the shattered pieces. At the spilling liquid. Our adventure came to an end. Irrevocably. I won't be drinking coffee from it anymore, nor spit tea leaves into it. Well. I shouldn't be sad, it was just a regular mug, just like thousands of others. I grew to like it, it kept me company throughout hundreds of warm drinks. I lost it. I hate this feeling the most. In the moment when I am losing something, I stop in my tracks, I hold my breath. It is always a very intense moment. A short one, but one that gives me the tight unpleasant feeling in my stomach. The feeling of loss is always accompanied by hope. Silly and naïve. Making me believe so strongly, that I can make it. That I will still be able to catch the mug mid-flight. When the feeling is entering the body, crawling into me I realise, how important it was to me. Whether it's Nivan or a stupid mug with gold gilt.
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