Noise. Loud enough to deafen someone if it wasn’t in their head, although it was in her head.
But, it was still…noise. And it was strange.
That was all 14-year-old Amara heard as she walked through the school halls; the invasive thoughts of the people around her barging into her mind, unwanted.
Why couldn’t she be normal?
Amara was telepathic, so she could mentally hear the thoughts of people around her, and also manipulate them. And so far, she was the only telepath known to man. Everyone else in her world was…ordinary. They didn’t have powers that could destroy, like Amara’s. And worse, she couldn’t control it.
The bell rang and the students filed out to lunch. Amara’s stomach growled. She followed them, trying to ignore the sounds that filled her head.
Amara walked up to the lunch lady, who placed a tray into Amara’s waiting arms. She sat alone in a corner of the lunchroom and picked at her food. Her appetite was gone. The mashed potatoes and lunch meat that Amara’s school gave out every once in a while were disgusting.
Why was her luck horrible this year? She had hurt people with her powers, and had lost her best friend Maria.
Well, killed her.
It was an accident. Amara’s powers went rouge and somehow, her best friend was dead, even though her manipulating and telepathic powers were supposed to only harm the mind. It’s not like they had anyone to compare it to. And now, her best friend was buried six feet under in their local cemetery, in a cheap coffin at a funeral that barely anyone had attended, no matter what Amara wanted to think. Only a couple wilted roses laid on Maria’s grave.
A tear trickled down Amara’s cheek. She quickly wiped it and got up with one thought in her mind:
I’m a monster.
She headed for the garbage can.
Someone tapped Amara on the shoulder as she was about to throw the food away. She turned around to find no one there. Then, someone shoved her forward and the world went black.
Amara opened her eyes in a dim room. Her eyes darted to the flickering lamp that resided in the corner, then they widened as she realized that she wasn’t alone. A translucent girl sat on a stool, staring at Amara. She looked like…a freaking ghost. Ghosts shouldn’t exist, telepaths shouldn’t exist, Amara’s world was upside-down.
But it couldn’t have been, because the ghost-girl wasn’t just anyone. When she smiled, Amara gasped.
It was Maria.
The Lighthouse 