Fire and Ice

Fire and Ice

"No, mom, I want to go to Jean's! I always have to stay and do chores, like you and dad, when we both know I can do them all by MYSELF and have them done in ten minutes!" thirteen-year-old Katie yells at her mother.

Hiram, coming in at the last word, says, "Yes, we all know that, but what if someone were to come by, huh? What would you tell them? Because you know you can't tell the truth, you would be taken away from your mom and me. Do you want that?"

"Maybe I would. How do you know what people would do to me? I only have your word that scientists would dissect me like a frog. And even if they wanted to, they couldn't because they wouldn't be able to cut me open. I can't even remember the last time I scraped my elbow, much less got cut." Katie stomps out of the door and slams it.

The force splinters it.

Ruth tries to rush out after her little girl, but her husband stops her. "Leave her be. She needs to cool down."

After a few minutes, Katie screams. Her parents rush out, only to see their daughter curled on the ground and the side of the barn on fire. Ruth runs to her daughter, but Katie shakes her off. Hiram runs to the pump and starts to fill the bucket next to it, but when he tries to get close enough to the barn, Katie gets up, and with her eyes squeezed shut, charges to stand in front of her father. "Move Katie!"

"No, daddy, you could get hurt. I'll figure out a way to put it out," but no sooner are those words out of her mouth that she starts to fight for breath. After what seems like years to Ruth, but in reality is only seconds, Katie's breath becomes steady and deep. A few of those deep breaths, Katie breaths out. Instead of a normal exhalation, though, is an icy wind. Ruth and Hiram, from behind their daughter, can feel the chill.

Katie falls to her knees, but, in front of her, the fire is out.

Katie's parents huddle around their daughter, all three staring at the side of the barn, at the scorch marks that make lines.

The first time I found out I could fires with my eyes, I was beyond angry at my parents. I just wanted to hang out with my friends, like everyone else, but instead, I had to work. I couldn't even use my speed because they were afraid someone would see me. No one ever even came to the farm unless they told me or my parents they were coming while we were in town. I mean, we lived six miles outside of town, and our closest neighbor was almost three miles away.

After I broke the door on the way out, all I could think about was how unfair they were being. I remember staring at the barn, thinking about my rage, when behind my eyes started burning. I blinked a few times, and then, WHOOM! The barn had fire on it.

I don't even remember screaming. I closed my eyes as hard as I could, and when I felt my mom, I wanted her to get away from me, thinking I would hurt her if she came to near.

Then I heard what my dad was doing. I had to stop him. I knew I wouldn't get hurt, because the last winter, I fell on to the fire and was perfectly fine.

I was so worried about my parents getting hurt, that I didn't even realize I was struggling to breath. I concentrated on something I didn't even know I could do, and after a couple of breaths, I knew almost instinctively what to do.

I blew out. I could feel that it was cold air as it left my lungs, but it didn't make me cold. I blew until the fire was out.

I had to explain what happened to mom and dad.

I was scared that they would be terrified of me, but they weren't. They took my new powers in their usual calm patience.

Since the heat vision was the most dangerous, dad made scarecrows for me to practice on in my field. It took a few days, several scarecrows, and a few bowls of popcorn, but I was able to control the… mechanism in my head that turned it on and off. I could even make a pin-point hole in the rags that made up the body of the scarecrows.

I always had fun lighting the candles at night.

I can't even begin to explain what I do when I use my breath, but it was easy to learn to control.

We never needed the ice truck to come by anymore, although we did to keep up appearances, and we never bought as much as we used to.

It was that winter that I realized I didn't feel the temperature anymore. I mean, I knew it was cold, but it didn't make me uncomfortable.

This was a good thing, considering I had to wear skirts and dresses to school.

I hadn't even told my mom that I didn't really need my sweaters and jackets when it was cold anymore before summer came.

It was a few days before my fourteenth birthday that my mom grasped the fact that I didn't sweat in the hot, ninety-plus degree weather.

To this day, when everyone around me is sweating, I have to use water to pretend I am to, so no one will comprehend that something is in actuality different.

A/N: I'm putting these three chapters up now. I know I said they'd be up months ago, but I felt the need to tweek them some. Oh, and I changed the summary, I think it a little better, maybe not so confusing. And I changed the category. I was getting nothing from the previoius one. I wasn't sure what to put it in to begin with, since technically it won't have much to do with any media of Superman, although the character will be talked about as just that: a character. I hope this is recieved a little better and and maybe even, quite possibly garner some reviews. Even if it's to tell me you hate it.