I'm falling. The ground is coming up fast. I might not survive this one. That lunatic pushed me off. All he said was "good luck". If I survive this, I'll rip him apart. I'm sure you're wondering what I'm talking about. Let's start from the beginning, when I first noticed the changes.
It started on a day that was really important to our school. Yes, there are more people that know than just me. Some of my friends have abilities, too. They had no idea that the impossible would soon be possible. It was the first football game of the season. Everyone was pumped up. We were going to whoop the other team.
The bleachers were packed. There was nowhere to sit. Especially after being twenty minutes late. We were forced to watch from the parking lot. About halfway through the first quarter is when it happened. Someone from the other team kicked the ball through our goal, and it was headed straight for us. My best friend, Hannah, was in the ball's path.
Then the ball was in my hand. Hannah had noticed the ball heading straight for her, but knew it was too late to move. So she didn't. Instead, she cried out. I don't know how, but I caught the ball when it was almost a foot away. My friends told me they had never seen me move that fast. All I remembered was that I had been talking to them, when suddenly there was a football in my hand.
That was the first of many unexplainably weird instances where I moved faster than normal. Another of them happened when the school bullies decided that they would "teach me a lesson" for protecting a classmate from them. They were winning, I'm not gonna lie, but they never saw what happened next coming. The short kid that was always bragging about how good at fighting he was, decided he wanted in on the action. He threw a punch, knowing he couldn't miss. I was fed up at this point, so I dodged his attack, grabbed his arm, and threw him against the wall.
He hit the ground and all of the other kids that were attacking me stopped to look at him. When they looked back at me, the look on the "leaders" face was only describable as the look of someone with severe PTSD because his father was a drunk that decided to beat him. He wanted blood. He then pulled a knife out of his pocket. Everyone's head turned to him. He looked me in the eye and attacked. I quickly dodged the attack and took the knife from him. Everyone was shocked, including me. But they weren't surprised because I had managed to take the knife away from this kid. They were all looking at me with expressions of shock and fear. I was extremely confused.
The bullies started to trip over each other while they were running away, because they were terrified by what had come out of me. Then people got over being shocked and started talking about my new body parts. I heard "wings", and "horns". I didn't understand what was happening until something large and black obscured my view. When my fingers brushed against it, I was shocked when I felt a weird sensation. It was scaly, and I'm pretty sure I cut myself on it. Then I realized that this wing was attached to me.
I reached up and felt two short and rough horns sprouting from the top of my head. Then they started going back into my body, leaving me with a torn shirt. Teachers started to push their way through the crowd to see what was going on, having been told that there was a fight. They took one look at me and asked me who did it. Everyone that had seen what happened immediately said the names of the people that had attacked me. I don't know if they were scared of me, or if they had finally had enough of the bullies.