Blackout

6. Out of Control

Brianna Carter

I've never felt more  powerful than that day in the storm. The electricity that had coursed through my veins was addictive. Sure, I ended up sleeping through school  the next day, but it was worth it for a moment of power. My display  hadn't frightened Claire away, but brought her closer. Telling her was  the right choice.

I think.

Every part of me wanted  to trust Claire. But the logical part of my brain knew that the list of  reasons not to trust her was a mile long. Claire was a people-pleaser  first and foremost, so she succumbed to pressure easily. While she took  the time to process the fact that superpowers even existed, I was  nervous. Nervous that she would realize how dangerous I was and turn me  in to some authority, or worse, vanish altogether.

That wasn't what  happened. Instead, she sat across the table from me one morning, looked  me in the eyes, and told me that I needed some acrylic nails because my  hands looked like a disaster. That's when I knew we weren't going to  shut each other out anymore. And ever since, things have been normal.

I've shared as much as I  could with Claire, and explained to her that I remembered nothing from  the bonfire. She came to the conclusion that I had been so dazed that  night because I had used my powers for the first time. It was a pretty  good conclusion, but a false one. I did have a recollection of the  bonfire, but it wasn't something I had the heart to recount.

I didn't drink  that much, but this was my first time. People get drunk faster when it's  their first time. I think. I moved through the dancing people  sluggishly, barely walking in a straight line. Suddenly, I got an urge  to throw up and stumbled quickly into the woods that bordered the  field.

Then the boys descended. I couldn't picture their faces, but I remembered the trees for some reason. They had glared down at me, a terrifying and oppressive force. I landed on pine straw to the horrific sound of drunk laughter. Alcohol was on their breath,  and their fingers were in my hair. I was paralyzed. My tongue felt numb.

Electricity and adrenaline fought inside my  body, begging to be released into the world somehow. I wanted to scream,  but my voice refused to work. The energy inside me burned with an  agonizing intensity.

Then, it was gone.

I remembered seeing a  bright blue streak arc into the sky, but having no clue where it came  from. Then, I was blinded by an intense light. I looked up at the trees.  The blue was gone, replaced by red flames.

The next morning, I  woke up on the couch of my living room. And then everything changed.

Claire was downstairs  now, hair straightened and makeup done. She poured the coffee I made  into a mug decorated with her own name. She must have painted that when  she was four.

"Morning," she announced.

"Morning," I replied, looking at the cereal I had made for myself earlier. It was soggy now, and definitely not worth eating.

"So, are you ready to explode something?" Claire asked.

I snorted. "Not quite. I can't even control this thing yet."

"We'll figure it out," Claire promised. "I'm working on Lightning Girl merchandise for when you become a superhero."

"I'm not planning on  becoming a superhero," I said. "There isn't anything to do or fight.  Besides, I feel like my power fits a supervillain better."

"I guess I could sell  villain merch," said Claire. "But for the record, you'd make a terrible  supervillain. You're the least terrifying person I know. No offense."