Karen quivered with rage and slowly raised her hand. She had been told to never use her family’s gifts in anger but her entire life was in that backpack. She had never felt so helpless. Jaime, her only friend, put a hand on her shoulder that she shrugged off. She spread her fingers into a peace sign and flipped them over her right eye.

The thick kid with curly black hair holding her backpack from across the street misinterpeted her movements as a sign to ‘fuck off’. “Oh is that how you wanna play. Here, I’ll bring your whore bag back to you.”

The bully was so focused on his target that he never saw the red mercedes speeding through school zone. The sound of squealing brakes filled the air and then her bag went flying through the air.

“You cursed him. You cursed him and he died.” Jaime cried.

As the mangled form of the boy drew up to its full heighth, broken bones, blood, mess and all, the parents and children around her began to scream in terror.

“No, I didn’t curse him to die. I cursed him to live.”