Kagome
The first time I'd actually realized it, I'd actually seen it happen, was when I was ten years old.
At the time, my parents had just divorced, and I was living with my mom. Even though it had only been about a month, she was already dating someone else. His name was Naraku.
Naraku didn't look like a dad. He was much younger than my mother, with long dark locks and pale skin. In a way, I'd always found him incredibly attractive. He was also very nice to me, giving me gifts every time he came around. Those times became more often, and the gifts less.
It was a few months before the planned marriage. My mom had to head downtown, and needed someone to take care of me. Naturally, Naraku agreed, and I was rather pleased too.
At nearly eleven years old, I was already feeling puberty. I realized with delight that my chest was growing, and boys liked me. My hair was long, smooth, and beautiful.
"So, Kagome, what do you want to do first?" Naraku had asked me gently.
I had considered the question, and weighed my options. "Let's go to my room! Then I can show you my photo album!" I suggested with a smile. I loved taking photos, and appearing in them as well.
Naraku had agreed, of course. We went upstairs, to my pink room, and he closed the door behind him. I got out my photos. We sat down on my pink, frilly bed.
"Look, this is when we were at Niagara Falls." I pointed out a picture of me smiling happily, and in the background, a giant waterfall. Then I noticed Naraku looking at me. "What?"
He didn't say anything. He turned his head slightly, leaned in, and pressed his mouth to mine.
I struggled, but he was much stronger than I was. Despite that, he moved slowly and gently, taking my clothes off as I cried out.
"Naraku!" I gasped as he moved his hands over my chest. It hurt. "Naraku, stop!" I cried again.
In that moment, I was scared. I was scared of my vulnerability, my innocence. I wished with all my heart that he would get off of me, that he would get hurt. Anything. Fall down the stairs. Yes, I had wished that.
He had gotten up. He staggered to the top of the stairs, and down he fell.
……………………………..
It was from then that I realized I was different. People listened to me. No, it wasn't as if I could control their minds. It was more like I could slip a suggestion into their minds, and it would affect them depending on their resistance. Usually, I couldn't make them get up and do anything, but I could give small suggestions, and change their mind in decisions.
I never told my mom. I never told anyone. I mean, why would I? It would make people scared of me, it would isolate me. I never wanted that to happen. And so, I lived a normal life, moving in with my dad later on.
Of course, I still used it a bit. Every time things didn't go my way, I'd insert a little here and there, tipping things in my favor just a little. It didn't always turn alright, but that was okay. I used it less and less often.
And then came the next most important sector of my life: High School.