"You're not as light on your feet as you think."
•••
A young girl by the name of Lyra always knew she was different. It wasn't until she was ten that she found out she was a mutant. Her parents having been killed by mutant hunters left her as an orp...
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"If it it isn't the hole puncher thief," I smiled as I saw Peter leaning on the stair railing as I walked out of school.
"And if it isn't the girl who thinks The Rolling Stones are better than Pink Floid," Peter faked a glare, walking down the steps with me.
"I think mine has a better ring to it," I scrunched my nose. He nodded.
"I agree, but what else was I gonna call you? Especially since I can't get over that fact."
"Okay, okay, I get it. You think I'm an uneducated swine," I shook my head, my hair falling from behind my ear.
"Well the fact that you used the word swine instead of pig proves me wrong."
"At least you know what swine means. That's much better than some people."
"Yes, but you are still smart-" he started, but I cut him off by suddenly stepping in front and facing him.
"Was that a compliment I just heard come out of your mouth?" I wiggled my eyebrows at him.
"You didn't let me finish. You are still smart in all areas, except music," he smiled mockingly at me. I tapped my chin.
"I'm still going to consider that a compliment," I smiled, turning and walking away.
"But it wasn't," I heard him call.
"But I'm going to pretend it was!" I yelled back at him, over my shoulder. He ran and caught up to me, although I figured we would've parted ways by this point. "Should I ask why a hole puncher?"
"It ticks Warner off," Peter smiled.
"Is that your only goal? To piss people off?" I asked, turning my head to look at him as we walked.
"Of course."
"And am I on that list of people?"
"Obviously," he smiled wider.
•••
A flash of electricity shook my body. It overpowered me. I had always been the one in control of my powers, but now my powers were in control of me. It seemed like they waited for me. The part of me that could still control myself to act. Another jolt of electricity sent waves of pain through my body, making me fall to my knees.
I screamed in pain as electricity and energy exploded off of my body in sparks and waves. My open palms, pointed forward, radiated the most power, destroying the random group of people around me. They were blown into millions of pieces.
I kept screaming until the energy and electricity stopped, surging back into my body. I collapsed to the ground on my hands and knees, ducking my head down. I breathed heavily, the weight of the terrible things I have just done falling upon my chest.
"Ly-lyra?" I voice asked. I looked up, my eyes brimmed with tears. Peter was walking towards me, spinning around in confusion and horror at the scene before him. The bodies were ash and the terrain destroyed; everything was on fire. "What happened?" Peter looked at me, seemingly afraid to know the answer.
"I killed them," I choked out, a tear dripping down my cheek. "I killed them all." I twisted my body around, falling onto the ground on my back. I squeezed my eyes shut, tears still dripping from them.
"Why did you do it?" His trembling voice asked.
"It wasn't m-my fault. It wasn't my fault. It wasn't my fault," I chanted. But the more I chanted, the more the sentence changed. "It was my fault."
•••
I sat up suddenly, my body drenched in sweat. Tears ran down my cheeks as I hyperventilated. The lamp beside my bed flickered on and off as I panicked. I looked round, noticing that I wasn't around ashes or fire, but in my room. Peter wasn't here. The bodies weren't here. I didn't kill anyone.
•••
I didn't go to school that day. I holed myself up in my room, trying to make sense out of the terrible dream. Although, the hardest part was going back to school the next day.
Peter was striding towards me as I closed my locker door. He had his normal smirk-ish smile plastered on his face. Usually I would smile back, but I kept my face stone cold. I looked at him for about half a second before turning and walking away, leaving him standing confused in the middle of the hallway.
I spent the rest of the day avoiding Peter and pretty much everyone. I didn't raise my hand. I didn't even talk. I've had bad dreams before, but never have I killed anyone in my dreams. I can't help but think this is a warning. But what is the warning for?
