The smell of cinnamon burnt fervently within my nose. My muscles ached from disuse, and my eyes stung; I had been holding in my sadness for far too long. But I couldn't cry in front of her. I was the strong one. I held myself together for her- during the divorce, when she lost both her boyfriends, when she was being interviewed for a high-security job- but this was too much. This would be the straw that broke the camel's back, the single drop of water that broke the dam.

And really, it was very insignificant, that drop- but it was a drop nonetheless.

My mother hadn't been able to come to my chorus concert.

None of my family could.

I stood on the stage alone, singing of Green Ravello and music in the night, with nobody there to hear me.

The audience members were there for their own children. Their own friends.

Why should they care about the stupidly tall kid in the back?

I would cry. Anyone other teenager in my position would.

But I can't do that to her. I have a practiced "I'm okay" on my lips, ready to leap out at a moment's notice.

She doesn't offer much of a sorry. She tells me not to say anything to my father, so he wouldn't yell at her for it.

It's not like he could do anything; I told him three weeks in advance that it was happening and he wasn't there, either.

So I sit in silence, staring out the window to hide the glossiness in my eyes.

I jerked awake, tears running down my cheeks at the familiar memory that just passed before my eyes.

It took me a second to remember where I was and why it was so dark, but eventually my memory returns, telling me that I'm hidden in a dumpster, away from prying eyes and the self-proclaimed superhero Iron Man, who is currently trying to hunt me down for blowing up a coffee shop, bookstore, and the pharmacy of a Wal-Mart.

Fun.

I pulled myself up to my elbows as my eyes adjusted to the interior of my (thankfully empty) hiding spot/ pseudo hotel room for the night. The lid was only about three feet away from the bottom, and it would be easy to catch me if I was found inside.

Which is exactly why I chose it.

I had already proven that I could hold my own at the coffee shop a week ago, and since then whatever magic had taken over my body refused to dissipate completely, constantly buzzing at the edges of my conscience and focusing in on random details that I'm sure regular people wouldn't be able to notice.

Then came the bookstore incident, in which someone had recognized me from the coffee shop and had started to berate me, leading to a swarm of people all shouting questions (and obscenities) at me. I could feel it coming this time, and managed to scale down the intensity of the blast, but afterwards I had to run for a while to keep away from the angry mob that, this time, wasn't hindered by awe from having one of the Avengers there with them.

Only a couple days later, I had found a 24-hour Wal-Mart and I had decided to try and find somewhere to sleep inside, in the warmth and the shelter.

I had a bad dream that night, and woke up to police handcuffing me to the bench I was laying on.

That time I was trying to summon the energy, if just a bit, just enough to break out of the chains.

It didn't go according to plan, as you might have expected. I ended up demolishing ¼ of that poor, unsuspecting Wal-Mart.

That about brings us up to date, with me in a dumpster hiding from cops.

I pulled myself into a sitting position, wedging my fingers as gently as I could under the lid and pushing it up just enough to see what time it was.

It was still dark, and there weren't many people around. Likely around 4 A.M., it was a Saturday if I was correct and Friday nights usually last until 2.

I pushed the lid up as much as I dared, crawling out of the dumpster silently and landing on the balls of my feet, then softly closing the lid and dropping to the ground.

I glanced around the alleyway I was in, making sure it was clear before poking my head out the back end and slowly tip-toeing toward a chain link fence 10 feet away.

I scaled it slowly, sucking in breath and freezing at every sound, terrified of bullets striking my skin.

When I finally reached the top, I fell onto all fours onto the other side and began to sprint, running toward a half-demolished building that looked like something big had crashed into it.

I slid inside, holding my breath for a few moments and testing the ground's strength by prodding it with my foot.

When nothing happened, I let out the air in my lungs and made my way further in the building, to what looked like some kind of main hall. It was large, with a cracked dome ceiling and grand, shattered windows that I'm sure were once beautiful.

Perfect for what I needed to do.

I walked to the center of the dome, holding my hands out in front of me and mentally prodding the presence in the back of my head.

It pulsed, but not like the first time I felt it- that had been brutal, an unwanted guest forcing itself into my body, fusing with my soul. This was soft, like a long-lost friend saying hello.

I prodded it again, and after another positive response I tried tugging on it, just a little. I willingly came forth, and all at once the room was filled with a bright purple glow, my veins coming alive with the most beautiful, pure violet I've ever seen.

I tried focusing it in my hands, the glow growing stronger in my fingertips and weaker the closer it was to my shoulders.

I looked down, noticing that my legs were glowing in the same way, my veins showing through the thin leggings I had been wearing since I arrived here. A lock of hair fell in my face, and when I saw it I froze.

It was purple, too.

Somehow longer, with a slight wave to it- just like the girl from my dream.

I was becoming her.

The light in my fingertips suddenly became painfully hot, and I cried out, a projectile of energy firing into the wall opposite me. The energy pulsed, as if it was apologetic, before timidly returning.

I brushed my hair back, straightening my shoulders and holding my hands out in front of me. The energy pulsed softly, telling me lets do this.

I focused on the palms of my hands, and in each of them, orbs of shaky violet formed. Aiming one at a painting of some dude in a toga, I threw it- and hit the lady next to him.

I'll have to work on that.

I aimed the other at the same dude, tossing this one gently in the air and catching it like a softball before hurling it at the guy's face.

It left a scorch mark on his right arm, closer than last time but still not close enough.

Discouraged, I switched modes. If this purple stuff, which I've decided to name "magic" just for the heck of it, can make projectiles, then it should be able to help with offense, too…

I flipped my hands to where my palms were facing me, and focused the magic into the backs of them. When the glow got to where it looked strong enough, I tried to release it in a small amount, just enough to cover my body.

A shield made of magic materialized in front of me, large enough to cover my head and torso but leaving my legs bare.

Perfect.

I let it dissipate, taking a deep breath before tossing an orb directly above me and throwing up the shield again as it came back down. The orb seemed to absorb itself into the shield, strengthening it for a moment before I allowed it to flicker out.

I continued in this fashion for a few more minutes, throwing balls of magic at the man on the wall until I was finally able to hit him directly in the head.

At that moment, the wall began to shake- and it hit me then that the structural integrity of the wall was probably bad enough before I started hurling orbs of destructive purple lightning.

I was barely allowed a moment to process this thought before the ceiling came down.