I could see them. I could see the colours that surrounded them. Their emotions, their identity. I could see it all.
Her eyes flashed brilliant, luminous colours flicking before her eyes. Colours of different kind for different people, colours of light and colours of dark, all-encompassing an individual. And she could see it – the colours churning in certain parts of the place of the heart, the brain, all around their bodies. It was beautiful sight to see, but not when she could feel one's pain and torment. The pain – it closed around her chest, pushing at it as she yelped and half-screamed in pain, as if feeling it within her soul. Sometimes it only lasted for a few seconds, sometimes more. And consequently, she would end up with a terrible headache and a fever. She learnt that it wasn't actually her pain, but someone else's. She learned how to control it.
Diana was jogging down a flight of stairs that led to the subway underground, taking a train home before her mother shouted at her. The Pennsylvanian spring air brought colour to her cheeks as her brown hair cascading down her shoulders. She was smiling at strangers that passed her, mingling about on their mobiles as they waited for their train to arrive. A plethora of colours flashing everywhere, zooming out of place as individuals ran, walked fast or moving parts of their body with velocity.
The screech and whistle of the train stopped, and Diana was ready to head home. She closed her eyes slowly, mentally restraining the pull of force that always compelled her to be unleashed, though she had the mental capacity to always shove it back down. Her blue azure eyes fluttered open and the colours disappeared, one by one. Despite the throbbing headache, she carried on, walking by the crowd that eagerly ushered in the train. She caught her reflection in one of the windows – and she stopped as she saw herself, that reflection of herself she dreaded to see – it was the reason she was frightened to look at herself in the mirror. With everyone else's' colour that surrounded them were bright, hers was dark. She looked at herself, time seemed to pause for a second, and she eyed the charcoal blackness that skirt around her. That anger fermented inside, and she glared at her reflection. She fisted her hands and turned away from the window, tears forming in her eyes. She went inside the train, clutching the metal rod because all the seats were taken.
She contemplated for moments – wondering if anyone were like her. There had to be, she thought. Diana knew she was special, and not the kind of special your parents tell you just to make you feel good, but a special as in she was capable of anything – holding the power that could change evolution. Besides, she dreamt every night the same dream: of two joined hands that emitted a powerful light. And in that same dream, it would always end in disaster. She never remembered that part, though. It was probably some psychological explanation – the part the brain deliberately blocks out because of trauma that you cannot face. Diana took a few classes on psychology in college, before she dropped out and had to take care of her dying father. She was only eighteen! It wasn't like she complained – her father was really sick and needed help, and her mother was spending her hours at work to pay for his medication. Diana liked to help people. She wanted to see everyone happy. Though the world can be anything but…
She felt a pang of pain that twisted inside her and immediately the colours exploded before her eyes. Blue, yellow, red, green… they were everywhere, blinding her like never before. She blinked twice, three times that led to excessive blinking. She swayed on the train that was moving with speed, all around her was a burst of colour – a litany of iridescent sparks that sprang out of everyone around her. Her heart pounding, sweat tricking down her spine and she felt hot – she could feel a fever forming as her body tried to attack that power that urgently wanted to unleash. She pushed it back down – trying hard to turn off the colours that visioned and appeared. She knew then, it was uncontrollable.
She racked her brains – anything that could help her rid of the colours. She tried to control it – like she always did, but it was fruitless. Then she focused on one particular segment of colour – orange. And she channelled it, channelled it to sort of only appear by itself. It was like time slowed then – and she felt her body relax with an impact so relieving – her body physically sagging. A man that sat before her – his aura was colours of orange. She managed to channel it by itself – eliminating all the colours but that. He was young – mid 20's with a clean suit. His aura was one that exuded stress; he seemed to be dreading something.
Diana swallowed. The aura still stayed – and she didn't know what else to do but keep on challenging it further or else all hell will break loose. The colours will burst again, and she was certain of it. The orange aura seemed to swirl and urged Diana forward, as if to take control of the colour. Her eyes glued to the cachemirine aura, and brought her hand up tentatively and she was astonished to see a fragment of colour pulling from the man's aura and hover above her hand. She looked down at the orb of orange colour that danced above her hand. She smiled slowly, and the orange colour reflected on her blue eyes.
"Jesus, Mary and Joseph…" someone whispered. "What is that?"
Diana looked up, eyes wide. It was the man sitting before her; he took off his glasses, eyes stretched wide in shock. The lady sitting next to him looked up from her phone, and her jaw dropped. Diana noticed that they were staring at the orb of light hovering above her palm; she tried to render it to disappear – that didn't work. Nothing seemed to work. Her power was messing up – it felt wrong and different. It felt foreign to her. "I…" Diana trailed off, scared out of her mind. She frantically looked around – people were looking. Some teens were taking photos.
Panic seized her. Then and there, the orb shattered from her palm, blinding her with luminescence so strong that she piled over, staggering, and obscuring her eyes with her hands with vigorous force. There was a ringing in her ears and she was faintly aware of people crying – screaming. Energy… control it. Control it. Control it. Control the energy
She was lying on the dirty train floor and slowly opened her eyes. People were groaning. She didn't know whether to feel relieved – that the screaming stopped or that she didn't hurt anyone. Tears streaked down her porcelain face, sweat poured down her temples. Diana, attuned to the silence, got up on unsteady legs and swallowed down the bile that was riding up her throat. The man, she thought. She was hyperventilating; Diana couldn't control the increased heart rate that was over-load. The man… with the orange aura… laid stoic on the seat, his eyes were still open… but they were glazed white. No pupils, no irises… just white. He was dead. And everywhere around her people were covering their eyes… they seemed not to recover from the light.
The train stopped. Everything stopped. It was like the thread of normalcy was cut down. It was like the world ended. That nothing mattered anymore. Humanity was gone. Meaning was gone. It was like the light was sucked out her, replacing by darkness that contained the evil act of what she had done. She caused this. He was dead because of her. Because of her power that existed in her blood and bones.
"Devil," whispered someone. "Devil, devil, devil, devil,"
Diana was crying now – she looked around. One person removed their hands and was blinking hard, their stony eyes on Diana. They were muttering, a prayer, Diana didn't know. The train had stopped – but why weren't people ushering in? There was no time. She had to leave… She had to go. Wiping at her eyes hastily, she tore her gaze away from the dead man.
"Devil…"
She ran.
"Devil."
She fled.
She ran the streets of Pennsylvania. Her phone buzzed, she brought it out furiously and threw it on the pavement. Night had settled in. Darkness in the sky, in the atmosphere. It had been hours and she was exhausted.
"Devil,"
She bumped into someone with an aura of hazy violet. They stared at her she thought silently, they know. They know of what I've done. She caught the bus which was half-empty. Put her hoodie up and sat at the back and she sobbed, sobbed and sobbed.
She didn't know where to go. She couldn't go home. She stayed in that bus with an unpleasant odour, slept until dawn broke and the bus driver poked her and told her to wake up. She was at the end of the trip; she was at the end of life.
"Where am I?" she asked the driver, opening her eyes groggily. The painful memory of yesterday fresh in her mind.
The television in the bus was still on, emitting static sounds. The news reporter reporting a death of a 26 year old man on Harrisburg station, Pennsylvania. He had children, 2. Diana felt her blood run cold and the overwhelming rush of guilt, regret and resentment towards herself.
"New York," the bus driver said dryly. He looked at Diana with an odd sense of peculiarity. Diana looked at his aura, the colours of tawny brownish colour.
She looked at the screen again. This time she felt numb. She got up from her seat, pushing the bus driver away and running for miles. Traffic was everywhere – yellow cabs beeping as she weaved her way through. Nothing else mattered anymore.
She ran until her legs were sore. New York was huge, and there was still traffic. There was a crowd surrounding an ambulance. She curiously wedged herself between two people and saw paramedics giving compressions to a young girl. Diana saw that it wasn't helping; the aura surrounding the girl was stark white… the colour that surrounded the man that died in the train. She saw that some of the crowds were taking photos and Diana felt a surge of anger, she fisted her hands and let some power rush out. She gasped as she saw the flashes of the onlooker's phones spark, causing the phones to burn from people's hands. She didn't know how she did it. It was like the energy that existed within the flash went overdrive to the extent of burning their electronic devices. The crowd gave puzzled looks and one of the paramedics look up curiously, then it was replaced with a pained face as he realised nothing could help the poor girl.
Diana felt woozy in a matter of seconds. All around her the crowd fluttered in and out, the sounds of traffic faint, the people's gasps reverberating through her… colours exploded and it was too strong to manage now. She collapsed on the hard ground. And saw nothing.
Unedited.
