Volume 2 Issue 5: Sticks and Stones

Wishing for it


Words, along with mood swings clearly are powerful where I’m from.

We lived under a despot who was happy to take all the credit when things were well. The thing with despots is that their words could bring hope, create careers: but also had an unpleasant habit of killing off those very same things.

As a result, people were laying low… or so you’d think.

In reality, a massive underground world has developed, independent from politics, far away from despots, but with a much tougher hierarchy. One based on magic, knowledge, and worship. One where signing your name could mean losing part of your soul. Powers could be obtained by signing contracts: the more you were ready to stump on other people, to forsake your humanity, the more powerful you could become. This, was the Worship path. Resentment, revenge, rage… losing sanity was nothing for those seeking pure power.

Magic was a path given to you rather than chosen. Magic potential was innate. I did not have much of it, unfortunately. A lot of us could manipulate the elements, fly, had all kinds of abilities to manipulate minds and matter, while I didn’t seem to be able to make even a leaf move with my will. I tried. Every test to determine my magic potential had been a cruel failure so far, which had led me to be bullied for a while.

Knowledge was another way, but it took time, and effort. This was my chosen path. I would write poems to calm my anger, thinking that one day, I would be able to create spells.

And one day… I still remember how scorching hot the sun was, but I felt like at least one astral body understood me.

Understood my anger.

So, I started writing.

Words and taunts, rumors and whispers unheard
May the ones who hurt me be as free as a bird
So that one day, one fateful day
Karma sends her stones to break them, and there they’ll lay
Not thinking about me one bit
And while my happiness does not depend on it
I still find myself wishing for it.

Yup, I was calming down. The weather started to become a bit less hot, and it was now bearable, even nice to be outside.

This lasted a while. Until…

Slowly but surely, my mood went from calm to sad. I felt sad for myself because I wasn’t able to get past the fact that if I had had powers, nobody would have dared call me names, or throwing me stuff. It started raining.

Under the rain, my sadness slowly turned back to anger. The wind blew harder. Black clouds appeared. Thunder rumbled, far away. Lightning stroke on a tree near me, setting fire to it.

Then, one lightning bolt changed me forever. It coursed through me, but I didn’t feel any pain. I felt light, happy, and strong. Stronger than ever.

As I smiled, happier than ever, the sun came back.


Kira loves creating stories, and one of them will become a book, one fateful day. She (more or less) regularly blogs about mental health, video games, her different teaching / lecturing experiences, and likes to show off her photos. All of this, because she aspires to make a difference to those who stopped seeing the beauty in this world. Onwards to her writer’s den! http://www.jackofwriting.wordpress.com http://www.facebook.com/JackofWritingTrades

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