"Just remember;
everyone feels lonely at times."
~ Unknown

___________________

[o n e]

IT'S BEEN FIVE YEARS (a/n: she's now 18). And those five years have been nothing but complete and utter horror. I have no clue what those unicorn heads did to me, but ever since then I've been able to do something that no normal human being has the ability to do; I can create things out of thin air. Like, I can create the exact replica of the coffee cup my father had this morning. But it has this weird, ghost like appearance. The only problem is I can't exactly control it, and if I use my powers too much, I turn a hideous dark blue and, well, lightning shoots from me. I burned my mother's favorite throw pillow.

But while my new powers may be... Well, powers, my parents did not take it the way I had expected them to. They were so freaked when I showed them my new ability that they pulled me out of school, grounded me until death, and forced to me wear a pair of thick gloves. I'm not allowed to take them off.

"Dad," I repeated, watching him glance at me in the hall mirror as he straightened his tie. "Why can't I come with?"

He groaned, running a hand through his slicked back hair. "Shinedown. For the last time, I thought we've already made it clear that you are not allowed ou-"

"But why?" I asked, hating how desperate I sounded. Jumping off of the stair railing, I picked at the itchy fabric on my hands. "Why can't I go out?"

He just pursed his lips and stared me down. "Because."

"Because why?" I pressed on. My father had never been known as an easy egg to crack, but this was one of those topics where I needed an answer. "Dad. Ever since you found out about my new abilities, you and Mom have been acting like complete jerks. Shouldn't you be happy? Your little girl is finally different than all the rest. Just what you wanted. Right?"

My father stared at me, the vein on his forehead beginning to show. "Shinedown Spartus," I stepped back in shock at his sudden tone. "How dare you speak to your father that way?"

"I deserve to know, Dad," I cried.

"You're not coming, and that's final," he practically shouted at me. "Now, go to your room. And don't you dare even think about sneaking out or taking your gloves off." And with that, he grabbed his brief case, and left, slamming the door after him so hard that it made the pictures on the mantel shake.

I bit my lip, toying with my gloves. Was this how it was going to be from now on? I would spend the rest of my life at home? Never meet anyone, never go to a party, never go to school again, never experience my first kiss or homecoming? I couldn't let that happen to myself.

A sudden sob began building up in my throat, and I raced up the stairs, into my room, slamming the door behind me. The waterworks came as I slowly slid down the doorframe, my soft sobs breaking the tense silence surrounding my room.

I hated it. I truly hated it.

Why couldn't they have picked someone else off of the streets? Why did it have to be me? Why couldn't they have chosen the girl with the nose piercing or the guy who loves tacos? Why did I have to be born into this family? Why did I have to be a monster? Why? What did I ever do to the universe?

It didn't make sense. All my life I've been working my tail off to please every last person who bothered to give me a second glance. And have I ever gotten the least bit of gratitude? Nope. I put aside all of my feelings and traded in my self actualization for selflessness. I let everybody tell me what to do, I hardly ever decided anything for myself, except for what I did to my hair.

I slowly stood up, and made my way over to my sea green vanity, resting my elbows against it. My reflection stared straight back at me, my messy hair that had actually taken me hours to do, my mascara steamed face and my trembling chin.

Lowering my gaze, I looked down at my gloved hands. When was it last that I had actually seen my own skin? For all I knew, the tips of my fingers could still be that haunting blue. I softly rubbed the excess fabric on the top of my pointer finger. Didn't it look kind of weird wearing these things all the time?

"It really isn't anything," I muttered softly to myself, gently grabbing the fingers to the glove. "Just a piece of fabric..." I pulled the glove off completely, revealing my hand. And sure enough, the tips of my fingers were still dusted with the soft turquoise.

A small smile arose to my lips, unnoticed.

I wiggled my turquoise fingers around, not taking any caution to it whatsoever. My eyes widened in shock as tiny little flurries of dust escaped from the palm of my hand, floating up through the air to kiss my reflection on the vanity.

A giggle escaped my lips as I turned around and full-on flung my hand up towards the ceiling. Closing my eyes, I focused my thoughts on snowflakes. Running outside after the first Christmas snow, trying to catch them on your tongue. When I opened my eyes, I was surprised to find my room lit up in flurries of snowflakes and neon lights. Turquoise and silver snowflakes softly fell from the ceiling, and serpents of color zoomed through the air, creating pictures of things only a genius would be able to decipher.

I laughed, my hair being pulled back slightly by the wind. The atmosphere started to get a sudden chill to it.

It was incredible. It truly was.

Who knew what all I could create with my powers? Why, I probably could even build a skyscraper if I truly wanted to! As long as it didn't drain my powers.

And that's when the lightbulb turned on in my head. I didn't have to stay here. Nobody ever told me that I had to live with my parents for the rest of my life, locked away, treated like a monster because I was different than all the other spoiled brats.

What if... I began to pace my room. What if I disappeared? Just disappeared into thin air. My parents probably wouldn't notice, I had realized. They would just think that I had gone against their rules and went out. But what if I didn't come back?

I had to think about that one for a little while.

If I didn't come back, they'd probably send out a search party... I rolled my eyes. But maybe if I went somewhere else... Like, England or something...

Thirty minutes later, I began packing. I packed the necessities, anything I figured I would most likely need. Tossing all the frilly gowns aside, I pushed back all the main clothes to reveal a secret rack, the one where I hung all of the clothes that I wanted to wear. Smiling to myself, I ripped them all off the hooks and shoved them into the suitcase. After I had gotten everything that I wanted and needed from my room, I ran down to the kitchen and raided the kitchen cabinets, glad our chef had left a week ago for her vacation. Shoving an apple into my mouth before I left the kitchen, I paused, my gaze locked on the telephone and the notepad that my father had told me was only to write down very important notes or phone numbers.

My running away was important... Right?

I mean, you see parents all over the world freaking out because their child is missing. But then it turns out that they had only left to get the groceries.

This was different, though. I wasn't planning on coming back.

Sighing to myself, I walked over to the notepad and picked up the pen, scribbling slowly across the paper in my signature blocked letter writing;

Dear Mom and Dad, I wrote. There comes a time in every child's life when they are ready to leave their home. I don't believe that I was quite ready for this, and I can only assume that you aren't either. I'm sick of being treated like a freak of nature. I've tried for years to make everybody happy, pretending like I'm completely fine with not going to school and being forced to wear a pair of ugly gloves. And so, I've decided that I'm running away. You can send out search parties. You can send out the staff. You can send out the police. You can do everything you want to do, but it still won't make up for the fact that the two of you are the reason why I left. I hope you're happy with your little girl. She finally figured out what's right for her, not for you.

Sincerely,
           Your daughter

Slamming the pen back down on the notepad, I ripped off the note and placed it on top of the phone.

And then I ran like the wind out of that house.

I had no clue where I was going. All I knew was that I needed to get as far away from that hole as I could.

.........................

"Shinedown, I'm home," Ella Spartus called as she walked through the giant double doors. Setting her bag down by the hall mirror, she waited for her daughter to come down the stairs. But she didn't come.

"Shinedown?" She questioned, a small feeling of worry settling in her stomach. Usually her daughter came down from her room when she heard the door open, she knew how her daughter hated being home alone all day.

"Honey, are you up there?" Mrs. Spartus grabbed the railing, starting up the stairs. When she reached her daughter's room, it was empty.

The sickening feeling started growing stronger. "Shinedown?" She ran back down the stairs (well, more like speed walked because of the skirt she was wearing), and into the main room. Maybe Shinedown had just went for a walk... But she knew she wasn't supposed to go outside when she left alone.

Scanning the room, her eyes shortly fell onto the phone. And sure enough, there sat a colorful note on top of it.

....................

In the next chapter, Shinedown will be in New York. I know, giant scenery leap, but I highly doubt you would want to read through her travel all the way there when nothing truly happens (or maybe something does, but I'm just hiding it). Excuse me for wanting to be a tricky author!

Anyways, in the next chapter she'll be meeting Stella. Their meeting will be kind of vague, but trust me, things are going to get a whole lot more interesting.

Love,

           Danalpswolf