It started in school. I thought it was just luck that I didn’t have to study. Or maybe I was just athletic. But anything I tried I was good at. I only had a few friends because everyone else thought I was a show off. I was, in fact, not to be good at everything. I tried to stop trying. I tried to make friends. It seemed that was the only thing I wasn’t good at.

Marcus did not have a lot of friends growing up. As long as he can remember, Marcus has always excelled at everything. It did not matter if it was school, sports or music. Marcus detested going to school because his classmates would castigate him for doing well at everything. His classmates would call him a freak and a robot. This chastisement started in elementary school and continued through high school. The only friends Marcus had were his next door neighbors: Jose and Cane. All three boys went to the same elementary school. The three boys looked out for one another. Jose and Cane admired Marcus’s gift, and they always defended Marcus. However, Jose and Cane moved to a different state when Marcus was 12. From 12 to 18, Marcus had a difficult time fitting it. Marcus wished that he had flaws so he would have an easier time making friends.

“What isn’t she good at?” Lydia said to the group, with a smile on her face as she nudged her girlfriend sitting on the porch beside her, “That’s why she’s my best friend.” It was a group ritual to roast eachother and giving jordan a hard time for her constant perfectionism was just part of the night. “It’s not my fault that I’m smoother than butter, it’s a gift and a curse,” said jordan as she took her phone and leaned back in the chair next to her childhood friend. “Take a selfie with me, with your perfect friend.” The girls laughed together, it had been a long time since they all spent a whole night together this way.

Tonight things would get interesting, as soon as Ariana, the quiet but hood member of the group, opened the text from her boyfriend the whole vibe changed. “Yo, jordan. Tell me why Aaron asked me if you and his sister got problems?” “Who, Reyna? I barely even talk to her, we were good, atleast I thought.” Reyna is Arron’s twin sister, and the current girlfriend of Jordan’s ex boyfriend, santi. She was polar opposite of Aaron. While he had no problem fitting into the social groups in their town, she suffered from self-isolation and a strange paranoia she was not afraid to show others. And unknown to the group at this time, she suffered from a secret grudge against jordan.

“Wait wait wait, okay now it’s coming back to me,” Leaning forward to talk to the group, with an irritated look. “You know my middle name is Reyna right? Well Everyone would call me by my middle name in school and Reyna was always in my classes. She got real weird when they confused us.” Lydia started to laugh as she usually did when drama would happen with one of her friends. “Let me guess, she wasn’t down with being compared to Ms.Smoother than butter.”

“Girl, yes. But it’s a lil deeper than that. I guess she almost didn’t make it when her and Aaron were born, she almost suffocated but they got her out but it did something to her mind.” “I was so friendly to her, but She used to act like I took something from her.” “Put it this way, if dropping hints were like throwing rocks, she dropped a whole ass boulder on me,” “I never really understood what she was accusing me of, but I can take a hint, I just brushed it off.” Ariana leaned into Lydia’s shoulder, giggling as she said “That bitch did witchcraft on her.”

The whole group laughed together. “Well I guess that’s the price for having extreme composure?” Again said Lydia while still giggling to herself. “Moral of the story, don’t be so perfect because someone might do witchcraft on you for it.” The last thing jordan said getting up to walk away from the group.

Lydia crossed her legs, watching to make sure jordan went into the house. “I give her a lot of shit but I can’t remember a time when she ever hesitated to help Reyna when we were growing up, jordan is definatly on her high horse most of the time but she had no problem coming down off it to help somebody else. I see why she doesn’t play into the drama.” “Agreed” Ariana chimed in. “When we used to stay up all night on the chat line trying to be cute, I met a guy and when I was going to meet him jordan came with me, he had a friend.” Embarrassed to admit it Lydia continued “I thought he would think I was ugly next to jordan and I told her, she asked me if I wanted her to mess up her hair or if she needed to act crazy, she would to make me look better.” The girls both looked toward the house, watching for jordan. “She would make herself look like a psycho to help her friend, that’s why when I say Reyna is trippin off the wrong person,I mean it.”

Wrapping yarn around a photo, sitting on her bed in her dark room, Reyna repeated the same few words as she continued to wrap the picture and reading from a book. Over the years reyna had grown to really hate jordan, as she also grew impatient with her delusions that something was in fact taken from her. The group of friends she had were not like jordan and her friends. They only fueled her fire, playing on her paranoia for their own benefit and vendetta. While beautiful, Reynas anger without an outlet to let it go, became obsessed with magic and gifted in the area of all things that came with it also, unafraid to display her gifts in an intense way, her beauty was shadowed by it.
She was binding Jordan’s photo, with the intention of stopping what ever good fortune,luck,familial relationships,potential love she would have along with it.

“If I could walk around with a bag over my head and two left shoes all day, I would,” annoyed as she walked past the same guys playing dice on the corner jordan walked past every day with Lydia on their way home from work. Looking at her friend next to her “why? It would only start a new trend or tik tok challenge. Then i would have to do it because I can’t let my best friend look stupid alone. Then where would we be?” Lydia said in her fake sweet voice, as she always would when jordan was feeling down about her strange point of view that the world was being unfair to her. Jordan stopped walking and looked at Lydia with her “are you serious” look.

Lydia stopped and turned back “I’m sorry but Im not going to feel bad that your blessed in life. Boo hoo, so you get whistled at on the way home and even though it wouldn’t be so bad if they weren’t nasty,” she said laughing again like she would at the wrong times. “So what jordan, the town crazy girl does weird things alone in her room to sabotage you?” While still laughing harder now. “If Aaron wasn’t a nosey ass brother, you wouldn’t even know that happened and you wouldn’t care or be feeling this way.” “I wouldn’t think too much about it.” “None of that is even real, so can we let it go girl? I’ll tell Aaron to pop in on her next time, maybe a little shock that he saw will get her to see how weird that is.” They started to walk again, close to home finally. “Okay I guess your right, but I mean it, next time your going to catch me outside in a paper bag and two left shoes.” They both laughed so loud, people walking past stared at them.

They removed me quite early in development. I was only part of this world for four days. In those days I was nothing though A plain observer unable to speak But able to do. I can’t wait to see their eyes when I break back in. It’s only matter of time. They never wrote me to fail.

So talented, people said With a pat on the head My confidence could fill a town Until the bridge came crashing down “You suck” was an easy way out For people who let their hatred spout

And the haters achieved their goal I was stuck reading gossip news Of why their hate became my toll That caused all my middle school blues

Because when everyone gets on your back For even being able to perfectly crack Instead of letting the shards of your tears Ricochet into a blend of broken years

I hate myself so much that loathing Causes reasons to buy more clothing And I’m not really perfect and I’m not right But at least I’m over 5’3 in height

Not that it matters, but what I control Is how and with who I roll So don’t let others stick it to you The man can’t tell me what to do

Straights A’s are all that’s straight And perfect is a way to gate How annoying I am to myself How ruined I am to everyone else

Little Miss Perfect wasn’t funny Today I can laugh at what others say My ego is anything but sunny So I’ll save my crap for another day

When you people can tune into what I say, when my words mean more than a penny, when hurting on the outside gets me noticed.

Until then I’ll push my glasses up my nose and answer your homework when it comes and goes.

Medals hanging down my neck are all you see of this nervous wreck.

I’m sick of being little miss perfect all the time. It’s my Midas Touch. I try to sink to the bottom but every time I rise to the top like a life vest in a pool. People at school who I've never met try to help with their pushes and pranks. Nothing really results of it when you have perfect attention and reflexes. They all talk but I guess they forgot that I also have perfect hearing.

I don’t really mean to come off as a smart ass, but the truth is, I’m smart. It’s just the basic truth and things really come easily to me. My siblings hated me for it, my parents thought I was rude when I would correct them, and my teachers tried to teach me humility. It seldom worked.

Because my brain works faster and sees ridiculously easy solutions to hard problems, I seem to be touched by the Good Life Fairy. College was a breeze, grad school was paid for by fellowships and grants and whatever, and universities were recruiting me to study there for my PhD. Full ride, no loans, no debt.

At twenty-five I got a job with a research institute making a high six figure income. I lived in a large metropolitan area and was able to afford a great townhouse, I drive a much admired sports car that I seldom use, and to anyone looking from the outside into my life it looks incredible. I admit that things have been ridiculously easy for me and I am grateful. I really am. But....

Women hate me. I have tried to understand why but it eludes me. I have gone out with beauties. I have dated women as smart as me or smarter. I have pursued women at my financial level. I have picked up random less-than-ideal women in bars, parks, on buses and airplanes and have had zero luck in making a connection. I have been told I am good looking and interesting and a good catch but I am thirty-nine years old and they only thing that has not come easy to me is a good relationship.

I am lonely.

I want to fix this.

Is there help,for me out there? Any help?

Sigh.

Miles clutched the pillow to his head and breathed heavily into it. He wanted to scream but he knew it would be wasted energy as no one would listen. If he stood on his front porch and screamed, it wouldn’t have changed a thing. He can hear the crowds outside and the paparazzi clicking their cameras at his home. He had to turn off his mobile and disconnect his landline as he was being bombarded. His privacy was being invaded like falling rain into soil. He was the soil. Damp and wet.

It all happened a week ago when Mile’s friends invited him to the casino. They had received coupons for a free lunch and so they wanted to do their part in taking money from the soul-consuming money-stealing gambling corporations. He had no interest but in agreement with the notion that it would stick it up to the big boss man that targets the vulnerable. He was going to do his part.

They had their lunch and Mile’s thought, one game of the slot machines would be something he could tick off his list. Said that he did it and move on with his life. So he bought a single token worth £1. And went to slots. He fingered the token into the slot and the machine whirred with excitement. He played and to his surprise, he got lucky and won his money back and more. He played again. Why not, he thought and again and again, he won.

Mile’s considered this to be pure luck and that someone above was favouring him. He decided that he would hold back some of his winnings back and use the rest for some other games. He played the machine where you put in coins and it falls down randomly onto a platform that had coins from before and usually this would be a money sink. Yet each time he put a coin in, it would shower and clatter into the winnings bucket.

By this time his friends had caught on that Mile’s was winning a lot of money. They urged him to play games with bigger stakes. They went to the roulette table. Being cautious, Miles placed a portion of his winnings on black. Unsurprisingly, he won. He couldn’t believe his luck and each time he upped his game to choose a group, then a combination and then a specific number. He won every time. The casino staff member eyed him suspiciously and then smiled.

By now, a crowd had gathered and the casino security were coming towards them. Mile’s was glad. His friends and the crowd would urge him to play higher stakes but honestly, he would be happy with even a fraction that he won. He had put in a £1 and his quite easily had up to £50,000. He hadn’t really bothered counting at some point. Security arrived and Mile’s was about to submit to them and give back the money but they spoke to him with respect. They asked him if the crowd was bothering him. He shook his head. They then assumed to create a barrier so that Miles had space.

He played once more and quite fed up, he placed all his money on green 0, hoping to lose the winnings that he felt no joy in winning.

And that’s how we got here today. Miles covering his head with a pillow, trying to block out the world. He had won that game but with the odds, he had won so much that the casino managers gave him the casino. That was why so many were outside his house, wanting to know his story and also get some of his good luck.

Miles took the pillow off his head. There was an eerie silence. He didn’t know whether he was dreaming. But then came a voice over a mega speaker.

“The Prime Minister has come to see you…”

This guy can’t lose, he is like Helen Keller. Born with a nerve disease which made him unable to do simple movements without difficulty, but he still overcame the challenges. He trained himself and became a wrestling champion, then a football champion all in our high school. Some classmates were jealous, they challenged him to do well in the chess club. He accepts without hesitation, and after a few months he gets very good at that too. I think he is tuning on all cylinders, I always admired his can do attitude.

And I thought of him as a friend, until I discovered that my crush is infatuated with him instead of me. That’s when I started resenting him, I know it wasn’t his fault and that was immature of me. But my teenage heart was broken you know, so I started to freeze him out a little. He wasn’t too wise to it though, in his mind I was still his friend.

But with all the hurt I felt with my crush liking on him, I was always confident that he didn’t have enough fame to do anything with her. And I still think there is nothing he can’t do, he actually in a span of a few weeks hooked up with her. Even this thing that a lot of people struggle with, this guy achieved without a problem. I think he is a master of all things.

Being a Storm Wizard isn't...challenging. Nothing bad happens, every test is undoubtedly easy. 'Go fight this boss!' Two hits and it's done. 'Find this rare ingredient!' It's not rare, it's just right in another world. Storm is just...easy. Too easy.

Walking through the streets of Triton Avenue, I glanced at some lower level wizards. A Life and a Balance. "Don't worry! I'll heal you!" The life spoke energetically, and attempted to cast the Heartbeat spell, but it fizzled. A small laugh came from the two of them, before focusing back on the battle. I continued walking along. I missed the days where failure was an actual conceivable thing.

To the Four Storms Mill, I was greeted happily by Blad Raveneye. "Hello, Miss Brynn! What brings you by?" I pushed away my thoughts and replied cheerfully, "Oh, I just need more storm shards. Still working on my new wand." Blad nodded happily and handed a pouchful to me. That errand out the way, I wasn't in the mood for idle chat and walked off.

My legs led me unconsciously to the Kraken's dualing circle, and my hands went up to my hair. Dyed a deep purple, part of it was shaved for the rest of my hair to sweep over. This was probably my last memory of things being difficult for me.

Five years ago, my sister Alia Starflame, was pulling on my hand and crying that some Kraken stole her wand, and pulled me to come handle it because Julia and Amber were busy. I was drawn to the dualing circle and asked Alia what she was doing here. She sniffled and didn't answer me, and I gave a little sigh, before patting her head and telling her I'll get it back. Alia got happy, and I dived under the water to face the Kraken.

Of course, it wasn't interested in talking, and instantly went to fight me. I wasn't too versed in fighting, so there wasn't much to do, but nevertheless, I progressed. The Kraken punched and scratched at me, and I did it right back. A few minutes later, I swam back up, holding Alia's wand, the side of my hair ripped out. Alia hugged me and called me her hero, and I hugged her back.

A fond memory, but the last memory of my struggles. After the fight, life was just so much easier. There wasn't much to do now, just let it pass by with no sorts of difficulties.

But, I suppose, this is just the life of a Storm.