Short Stories

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I had a power. I realized I wasn't like the other kids when I was thirteen. I was strange, different. Other kids couldn't look at window panes and cause spirals of frost to climb up them. Other kids couldn't create icicles on buildings like I could.

It happened when I was angry. I had been crying in the shower, feeling the steaming, boiling hot water hit my back and form welts. Tears of anger brimmed my eyes and I looked down at my red, scalding body.

I whimpered when I touched my back, then I screamed. And when I screamed everything stopped. The water stopped pouring from the faucet, the tears stopped running down my face, the fog on the mirror froze. I stumbled and slipped, my body slapping against the edges of the tub. I looked up, and the water that was fresh out of the faucet was frozen.

It was solid ice. I scampered out of the tub like a hurt puppy and limped to the mirror. I ran my hand over the slush that slid down the mirror. There were small balls of ice on my face. I brushed them away and held one in my hand. It was a tear. I shivered, realizing the temperature of the room had dropped drastically and I wrapped a white towel around me.

As I stepped out of the bathroom, fog drifted from it, into the hallway. The house was eerily silent and so was my mind. I walked to my room in a trance, convincing myself that the hot water from the shower had made me light headed. I threw on some pajamas, and crawled under my covers, itching to feel warmth again.

As soon as my head hit the pillow, I closed my eyes and fell asleep, feeling weak, and out of sorts. I shot out of bed in the middle of the night, and stared at the clock. The blue flashing time illuminated my room and I shuddered. I slipped out of bed, my toes silently gracing the floor.

I tiptoed along my room, into the hall, and went to my parents' room. They were both silently sleeping. I breathed out and my shoulders lost their tense. I left their doorway, and slowly ambled to the bathroom. It was still cold, and as I turned on the light, I could see my breath in the room.

I slowly pulled open the shower curtain and winced. A fine layer of white snow covered the bathtub floor. Icicles hung from the edge of the faucet and frost covered every inch of the creamy tile. I breathed in, and held my breath, fearing that if I made another move, something more would happen.

I ran back to my room, and sat in bed the rest of the night, devoid of any further thoughts or emotions. When my mom came to wake me up, she saw me and shook her head.

"You look poor." She commented softly, resting her palm on my sweaty forehead. "I'll call the school, you take a rest."

I nodded, not saying anything. My stomach erupted in a fitful manner, that of fear. I was scared that I had to explain the bathroom to my mother. Father came in to kiss my forehead and send me off, but I feigned sleep and he brushed my hair out of my face.

I heard hushed whispers in my doorway, and frantic goodbyes as my mother ambled about my room. She set a bowl of steaming, hot soup down next to my bedside, then a cup of water.

When she left silently, I opened my eyes and grabbed the cup of water. I stared at it, willing it to do something. The water trembled, and my eyes widened. I saw my reflection in the glass of the cup, and dropped it.

The shatter brought my mother to my room. She looked down at the shards of shimmering glass in a puddle, then at my terrified expression, holding my locks of now platinum blonde hair.

"Aria.." she whispered hoarsely, and left my room, looking as if she'd seen a ghost. I heard her dial a tone on the phone, and laid back down.

I had blond hair. I'd never had blond hair. I was born, a cute, healthy, bubbling baby with chestnut colored hair. It had grown darker with my age, but never blond.

My eyes had also changed, they seemed to be a striking, omnipresent blue. I blinked and squeezed my eyes shut. This was just a dream, this had to be a dream.

A very vivid dream.

It couldn't be real. I couldn't be able to change weather, and my eyes couldn't just change colors.

My breathing became unstable, and as I lay in bed, the room began to spin. I closed my eyes briefly, and lifted my head, to see my mother standing in my doorway with a pitiful expression.

"I'm sorry Aria." She said, as two men shoved her out of the way and grabbed my arms. They pulled me out of bed and I did little to resist.

"You're not normal.." My mother whispered as I was carried away, away from my family, and away from people.

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