I’m not your average 17 going on 18 girl. I know that sounds so generic, but it’s true. I’m a quinketicky; people who can not only control your mind, but also can control inanimate objects and give them life. Wicked, right? But unfortunately I can’t use this power because it “isn’t safe” or “you’ll end up hurting people you love.” I’ve heard this so many times I wish I could slap the next one who says that to me.
There are only a few who have my power left in the world. And by law, at age 14 I was shipped away to school to learn how to use these powers. So far I’ve been doing great. Since I’m the only quinketicky there, I’m the best at my power. But, at times I get kind of lonely, but not the kind i would want to curl up in a ball and cry my eyes out. My kind have been known for hurting others unintentionally, so most people avoid me. Even my roommate, Sarah, doesn’t like to be around me. So I’m the lone wolf, in a pack of wolves.
I was called to the dean’s office during class. Of course there was a bunch of people snickering at me. When I get to that office, I’m seriously wanted to punch him in the face and tell him if he does that ever again I will hurt him, and trust me it ain’t going to be pretty.
Walking into his office, I felt immediate tension in the air. Slowly, I work my way to the back of a chair, right in front of the dean’s desk.
Smiling, the dean gestures toward the chair. I sit hesitantly. “Now Jessica”, his deep baritone voice speaks, “I have some news for you. You finally get a master to help you control your specific power," looking up, the dean probably saw me look like a dear in the headlight and quickly tried to reassure me," You have nothing to be afraid of. Your teacher has your exact power and is excellent in controlling it. You have nothing to fear.”
“I’m not afraid,” I said quickly, “I was just surprised, and that’s all. Well, I mean, you never found me a teacher when I asked, like, 2 years ago when everybody else got them. Why now?” I began to get mad at him, if this so called teacher was so good, why didn’t the dean ask him to teach me when I asked. It’s not like the teacher was teaching another student, since there are so few left.
“Because I finally found a teacher, that’s why. There are so few of your kind left, it was hard to track down a teacher to teach you. Be grateful I invested in finding you a teacher at all, young lady.”
Embarrassed and half scared, I softly shuddered, “I’m sorry. I get defensive really quickly.”
“It’s quite alright Miss Roland,” he nodded in understanding, “you must work with him all days of the week to catch up with your peers, even weekends.” I started to disagree but he cut me off, “but this also means you will be able to drop your last class of the day.”
“Seriously?! That’s awesome, thank you so much!”
“I wouldn’t get to happy; it takes a lot of practice to control your power. And if you don’t learn by the end of this year, you won’t be able to graduate.”
“Oh.” I felt my face fall immediately.
Standing up, the dean brushed off his jacket and said, “Alright, time to meet your new teacher,” away from me, he motioned his secretary, “Ms. Johnson please tell Mr. Colon to come in.” Nodding, Ms. Johnson shuffled out the door to retrieve my new teacher.
I was so nervous; I finally get to learn how to use my powers! Hopefully this guy knows how to do some wicked stuff, like controlling stuff with jut your mind. I could picture him now, mid 40’s maybe early 50’s, wise and knows how to handle any situation and questions I throw at him. I heard footsteps coming towards us. Eppppp! This is it! I finally get to see him. When he stepped into the room, I almost toppled over. This wasn’t my mid-life crisis teacher I expected. What the hell? This hot, jet black haired, tan, tall man is my teacher.
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Why can't i be just a regular girl, with a regular powers?Adventure
Jessica Johnson is one of the few of her kind left in her world. For 5 years she has waited for someone to teach her how to use her powers. But when she finally gets her wish, her teacher is no what she expected. Mark Colon is what you call a kick b...