"Lettie, you need to listen to me. This is getting dangerous." 14 year old Lettie sighed. "You mean I'm getting dangerous. Now I'm a complete disgrace to society. First this stupid beard, now I've been cursed with the worst kind of magic." Sparks began to form around her hands. Her mother saw it. "Lettie, please! If you don't get your magic under control, you could turn wicked." Lettie glared at her mother. Her eyes turned red. "I'M NOT WICKED" she screamed and blasted the nearest statue with a ball of fire. It shattered into millions of pieces. "Stop." her mother said. She grabbed Lettie's shoulders, forcing her to pay attention. "Lettie, this isn't a game like it was when you were five. You need to stop having outbursts like this, or you could hurt someone, maybe yourself. Lettie stared at the mother. "I. Don't. CARE!" she screamed. Before she could think, she blasted her mother with fire. All of a sudden, Lettie came to her senses. She ran over to her mother. "Mother!" she cried. "Mother, please, wake up. Please!" she began to cry. "She's dead, and it's all my fault. You were right mother, i am wicked." She ran and didn't stop running until she was in the woods behind the town. Then something unexpected happened. "Lettie!" a voice shouted. Lettie blinked. She was at the circus, and P.T. was next to her. "Sorry." she said. "I was just thinking." P.T. looked at her funny. "About what?" he asked. "Oh, nothing." she responded before walking away.