Part Three

I spent the next few days thinking about my powers. Or at least, my potential powers, so far the most they'd given me was a couple electric shocks from the toaster. And the phone and the lamps and the microwave. Dear God the microwave was the worst.

I constantly wanted to try them out, but I didn't. I'm not entirely sure why but I didn't, I guess I was worried that it would be a disappointment. Again.

Despite my reluctance to try again, I couldn't let it go. I couldn't bring myself to accept that it was nothing. I couldn't accept that it was just a side-effect, that it wasn't something more. I could not live the rest of my life avoiding the microwave without a good reason.

OK, it maybe cliché but I couldn't accept that there was no reason behind these powers.

I had been staring at the pencil for an hour now. I think. It was some length of time anyway, I don't know what I expected to happen, but I felt something. Maybe it was a bad burrito, but I didn't think so.

My hand was shaking as I lifted it. I was barely aware that I was doing it but before I knew it, I was pointing at the pencil.

a small, thin, white boat shot from my fingertip and towards the pencil, which flew from the tabletop and across the room.

I stood up from my chair and stared at the pencil, a mix of both excitement and fear swelling and swirling in my stomach.

The pencil was on fire.

"Oh shit!"

As I realised what had happened I leapt across the table, and landed flat on my face, I was hardly the elegant superhero.

I stamped frantically on the pencil.

The carpet was scorched.

"Aw nuts."

Some quick repositioning of the furniture later and I was watching TV.

A thought occurred to me.

I stared and stared at the screen.

'click'


It went blank.

I chuckled to myself.

'click' 


It was back on again, as if nothing had happened.

I smirked. This was going to be fun.