I never treated my powers like a big deal. I was never really given the opportunity, to be completely honest.
Ever since about the age of five, I began to express my unique powers that I had inherited from my parents.
One hand had the ability to heat things, while the other could chill things, similar to a fridge. It was as simple as that.
When my parents found about these powers, they became more protective than ever. Homeschooling. Not being able to play with other kids. Constantly under the watch of my parents within the diner. Always.
Homeschooling was the worst part. I always felt like I had no friends through the stupid program. However, I simply had to abide by my parents’ rules.
Before I get ahead of myself, my abilities weren’t all that spectacular to begin with. I quickly learned that I couldn’t throw fireballs or freeze things solid.
I tried—and learned that when I was six.
How I got them from my parents? Easy—genetics. My mother is the cold one, my father is the hot one. I would like to believe that it affects their personality, but I don’t really see it.
However, through their coexistence and teamwork, I think that’s how they made The Nook work—despite them being polar opposites (at least temperature-wise). While my mom runs the ice cream section of The Nook, serving ice cream to paying customers, my dad is in the kitchen, cooking all of the meals that people come in and order.
With me on board, I become the waitress, serving the meals to the family accordingly. However, this is when I use my powers to my advantage. Walking over to the tables allows me to heat up the plates, making the food fresh and hot before they’re even given to the people.
My dad was the first to do this trick, back when they were first running The Nook themselves. When he had discovered my powers, I vividly remembering him praising the gods after I told him that it was my right hand that could heat up things. I also remember running back to my room, crying my little eyes out.
To be frank, I never wanted these powers. I’m still learning how to use them, as they can just turn themselves on and off. It’s annoying at times.
I just wanted to be normal. I had always felt like these powers didn’t make me unique or different—these powers made me a disgusting freak.
Nevertheless, with constant coaching from my parents, they had always managed to make me feel better.
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“Five minutes until closing. You may want to grab your stuff from the break room, Novella,” my dad said, turning off the grill in one swift motion. My mother was putting away the big tubs of ice cream back in the freezer. Pacing over to her, I grabbed two containers myself and placed them on top of the ones that she had already put in there.
“Thank you, sweetie,” my mother responded, giving me a small peck on my forehead, showing her appreciation. I blushed as I usually did and scurried into the break room, grabbing the notebook that I usually did my homework out of, along with the textbook that usually accompanied it.
“Is everything good to go?” I could hear my dad say to my mom as I closed the break room door. My mother replied with a quick ‘mmhm’ before feeling the freezer door. She used this motion to make sure that it was still working, and sometimes to make it even colder. She did it almost every day. Call it paranoid, but I call it almost second nature for her.
My father cleared his throat, preparing to give the same speech that he always did at the end of a workday.
“Alright guys, great work today. We served many hungry customers today, and that’s the most important thing. I’m proud of both of you—the hardest working people I know.”
I rolled my eyes and giggled a bit, putting my hands behind my back. “I know, Dad,” I simply replied.
“Let’s go home then, shall we?” my mother exclaimed, clapping her hands together. My father and I nodded in unison, gathering our things together and filing out of the door. My father proceeded to click a button on his giant set of keys, locking the restaurant in a quick manner.
Five minutes later, we treaded into the house, all three of us sore and tired from our day of work. Some days it was nice to live across the street from the place you worked. Other days, however, had been nightmares.
My dad would stare at the diner for an hour or two if we were closed that day (the diner is usually closed on Tuesdays) from a window. My mother would try and coax him, saying that it would be okay if he wasn’t in there all the time.
He gets pretty passionate about The Nook, as I’ve already discussed.
“I’m going to bed. Goodnight,” I merely muttered. As my father was already in the kitchen, my mother nodded to me as I went up the stairs to my room, shutting the door softly behind me.
I plopped onto my twin-sized bed, tossing my binder full of old Pre-Calculus worksheets to the side. My hatred for the subject aside, I was tired nonetheless and needed to lay down.
My mind drifted to a warm beach, with clear water surrounding the sandy ground that I was laying on top of. All I could hear is the swishing of the water moving back and forth quietly in the background. I placed my hands to my sides, emitting a soft sigh. However, that peaceful scene did not last.
I screamed out in terror as I lifted up my right hand, it covered in gushing blood and glass jammed into the skin. I lifted up my left hand to see a huge mound of frozen sand encasing it. I rose to my feet, trying to run into the water. However, it had risen tremendously, and rushed towards me. Half of it scorched me, and half left me frozen.
I gasped, sitting up from my bed in a flash. I clutched my heart with my right hand, rubbing the area to make it feel warmer. I sighed, wrapping my arms around my knees and placing my head between them.
I didn’t want these powers… I didn’t ask for them… I’ll never fit in, ever…
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