Mind Reading

This was actually made for the TWS writing competition (that I dropped out of) but if I were to continue, I started this story about a girl that could read peoples minds.

I may or may not finish this, but this was the start:

Power. It’s all I’ve ever known. Day after day. Crippling power flows through my body. Only one thing seems to counterattack the distressing power; writing.

2 Months ago

Dazzling city lights pass as we drive down Wall Street. People rushing, kids screaming, small business owners trying to snag passers' attention; normal. Me? Just about the opposite. Since the day I was born, there has been anything but normal about me. Between being able to read my mother’s thoughts when she’s aggravated, or my “friends” when I pass by in fifth grade. Yeah, I’ve never had it easy. Countless doctors deemed me “fine,” and my mother’s horrified face when she figured out my secret power etched into my brain forever. Reading people’s minds is not as wonderful as it’s talked up to be it turns out. Take me for that example. 

The thing about having such a silent force is the fact that there's just about nobody that can understand. And when people fail me, I turn to the piece of paper. Now I don’t have any mean skills or anything like that, but a simple journal entry from here and there seems to calm every fiber in my body until I write the last period, and like a light switch, or even a flood, I can hear neighbor Joe’s thoughts, or Cathy down the street, and to a normal person it may seem that I am hyping up this situation I have involuntarily been put it, but it takes one to know one, and nothing about this power is simple. Not only are my thoughts complex, but I get everyone’s complicated, twisted thoughts. Disgusting or beautiful, it depends. 

A man passes by on a bike, his thoughts erratic and messy. A woman pushing a stroller with a baby in it, stresses pass through her head. It seems that nobody here is exactly stable. 

TO BE FINISHED (MAYBE)

by Madeline Perchiniak