Charlie Hill was a perfectly normal sixteen year old boy - if you consider being in the closet and dealing with crippling social anxiety 'normal' - until he managed to stop a bullet with his bare hands. Confused and afraid, Charlie struggles to gain...
"You're probably right, it's been a long day," I sighed, "I'm gonna try to get some rest, Zac. I just want to stop thinking about all of this stuff for a while."
"I understand Charlie," he said, smiling sympathetically, "We'll figure this out though, I promise you."
"I believe you." I half smiled, "I'm heading to sleep then, thanks for helping me through today."
"It's what I'm here for dude," he said, shrugging.
I yawned and mumbled, "Night Zac."
"G'night Charlie."
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"What are we doing out here?" I yawned, tripping over a stray branch. I just managed to grab a hold of a nearby tree to stop myself from face planting into the dirt. I hadn't slept well last night – I'd been plagued by nightmares in which everyone had found out I could do magic and had tried to burn me at the stake for being a witch – so when Zac woke me up at 9AM and dragged me to the forest nearby my house, I was still bleary eyed and tired.
"Practising, duh." Zac said, putting a hands on my shoulders to steady me.
"Yeah, because trees and fireballs make a great combination."
"Let's try and avoid fire this time round," Zac grimaced, probably recalling the close shave he'd had in the alley yesterday, "I had something else in mind."
We walked into a clearing in the trees, "Should I be worried?" I was only half joking.
"Probably, considering your track record." I glared daggers at his back as he bent down and unzipped his backpack. He pulled out a stack of books and four bottles of water.
"What are those for?" I asked, puzzled.
He turned and grinned, "Well I thought water would be safer than fire."
"That doesn't really explain anything."
"Well, I've been reading these books," he explained, handing the pile to me, "And from what I can gather, Crowley agreed with me; magic is closely related to your thoughts and feelings. He seemed to believe that if you could imagine it, you could do it."
"Why does that thought not comfort me?"
"I know you're worried Charlie," Zac gripped my shoulder, "But I think we really might be able to control this. And then once you have a handle on it, think of all the amazing things you could do. And not just for yourself, think of what you could do for other people?"
I hadn't actually thought about what I would do if I was able to control my power; I was too concerned with being able to control it to consider how I might use it if I mastered it. I can't lie and say that the idea of being able to magically solve problems for myself and others didn't appeal to me a little.
"Okay," I nodded, feeling, for the first time, a sense of determination, "I don't suppose Crawley said anything about how to stop flower petals shooting out of my hands without my consent?"
