I never wanted powers.
I just wanted them to stop.
Every morning felt like a game of survival. I'd wake up, check my face in the mirror to see if the swelling had gone down, and then pull on the same gray hoodie — the one with the long sleeves that could hide bruises.
I thought if I made myself small enough, invisible enough, maybe they'd get bored.
They never did.
Today was no different. I stepped into the hallway of Eastview High and immediately felt the weight of it — the sideways glances, the snickers, the shifting shadows of people who always moved just close enough to remind me I didn't belong.
I kept my head down and walked.
Then came the trip.
A foot. Always a foot.
I hit the floor hard, palms slapping against cold tile. My books exploded across the hallway like birds in flight. Laughter. Always laughter. Like it was a performance, and I was the joke they never got tired of.
"Oops," said Marcus, the biggest of them. "Did the floor jump at you again, Reyes?"
He picked up my glasses and inspected them like they were trash. Then he snapped one of the arms clean off and dropped them at my feet.
The hallway blurred. Not just from the cracked lenses. Something deeper, in my chest. A pressure. Like my ribs were holding in something bigger than bones and lungs.
I didn't say anything. I never did.
I just gathered my books, one by one, as they walked off laughing, already bored with me. The last thing I saw before turning away was my reflection in the trophy case glass.
And for the first time, my reflection didn't look helpless.
It looked… angry.
---
The bathroom was quiet.
I locked the door, threw my books down, and gripped the sink like it was the only thing keeping me from exploding. My chest burned. My vision fuzzed. I could hear my pulse in my ears.
Then I did something I never do.
I punched the mirror.
Not hard enough to break it — just enough to hurt.
But the weird thing was… it didn't hurt.
Not the way I expected.
Instead, the mirror shimmered. Like a ripple in water. And then it looked back at me — not with my usual hollow eyes, but with something glowing just beneath the surface. Yellow. Faint, but there.
A voice whispered. It wasn't in the room, but it was in me.
> "You've had enough, haven't you?"
I backed away. "Who…?"
> "You've been holding it in. Every scream. Every bruise. Every broken word. Let me help you give it back."
I should've been afraid.
But for once… I wasn't.
---
When I stepped back into the hallway, something had changed.
The colors were sharper. The whispers louder. I could feel everything — the fear in the girl two lockers down, the confidence dripping from Marcus, the shame buried in a teacher's eyes as he pretended not to see.
I walked straight toward them.
Marcus turned just as I got close. "Hey, you forget something—"
He stopped. His eyes widened.
I wasn't doing anything.
But I was feeling everything.
And he was feeling it too.
His legs buckled. His voice cracked. "What the hell…?"
The others backed away.
Marcus dropped to the floor, breathing fast, eyes darting like a trapped animal.
I leaned in.
And for the first time in my life, I smiled.
> "Scared?" I asked. "That's good. You should be."
---
[To Be Continued…]