This is a Gift

Liadan had a dull ache in the back of her head. She’d had it weeks now. Stress was what her mother had figured, saying she’d been studying pretty hard and she needed to go out and hang with friends. Thing was, all her friends went to school out of town, leaving Liadan by her lonesome throughout the school year. Anna was the only one who was any kind of close, but she was three hours away. Besides, college had decided fun wasn’t on her schedule this semester. And even if it had, there was still the overhanging issue of her own mutation to deal with.

The endless drawl of a professor as he went on and on about pilgrims and tea parties, and the American Revolution was just something she couldn’t put up with but was the status of her current location. Liadan rubbed her temples, hoping the dull ache wouldn’t become a full pounding.

“For your next assignment, I want you working in groups. Collaborating is a great way to learn,” the teacher was saying as she walked around the class.

“I hate working in teams. I really hate it. Nobody understands what I’m trying to say.”

Liadan turned in her seat, spotting one of the guys in class glaring at his desk. He was pretty quiet and didn’t speak much, but she figured it was him; everyone else was smiling and thinking through who they’d like to partner with – she heard her own name in Madison’s mind.

“This will be a joint paper, and a bit of a study of the Revolution.” Liadan could hear the sound of chalk and knew the teacher was back at the blackboard.

“Wanna be in a group?” Madison asked, leaning sideways down the table. Madison was her classmate in several of their classes and had been Liadan’s only friend thus far at the school, though she wasn’t sure she could use the term so loosely. She was curvy, and had little to no tact in the things she said or did. Usually they ended up sitting near each other, so it had been Liadan’s idea to exchange numbers in case they needed to share notes. Jury was still out on whether this was good for Liadan or not, but she was sure it was going to come back hung based on her luck.

“Sure.” Liadan said, though she wasn’t paying too close attention. She just wanted to get out. Get out now. It was a feeling that had come up suddenly, and very unironically she wondered if Spidey sense was a power she was acquiring, too. Her sense of unease began to worsen, and the guy behind her began to grow unsteady as well. His thoughts became frantic, and all of them flashed through Liadan’s mind at a speed that made her headache kick up in multiple notches. The word “failure” repeated itself over and over and images of a father who beat a young boy, and then a teenager, and soon the young man that was seated behind her. Liadan shifted her hands from just fingers on her temples to hands holding her head, unable to cope with the horrifying things she was seeing and the pain that accompanied them.

“Having trouble concentrating?” Madison cracked next to her, when Liadan didn’t reply, she added. “Are you okay, Lia?” Her good humor turned to concern.

Liadan squeezed her eyes tight, trying to make sense of what was happening. She became aware of the professor saying her name, and then that of the boy behind her just as an image of a gun flew past her eyes.

Gun.

GUN.

Liadan opened her eyes wide just as a scream broke out. She turned around to see the guy pulling a gun out of his jacket. It was a small handgun, not an assault rifle like most school shootings. The thought flashed across her mind, not yet forming the words into a cohesive thought, just a sweeping relief she could identify later. A handgun couldn’t do so much damage, there was hope to be found, right? The idea tied itself to the tension in her gut, watching as he aimed it right at the chest of the girl in front of him and her classmate didn’t move, a wide eyed stare painting the image into Liadan’s mind’s eye. The girl in front of him had seen the gun before the rest of the room, her whole body facing him, the stack of handouts slipping from her frozen hands. The papers cascaded down and went everywhere, creating a plume on the floor, but Liadan barely noticed them. Instead, the images in her mind were almost like memories being screamed into the atmosphere; they were so clear in her mind’s eye.

She saw the guy with the gun, standing in the hallway just outside their classroom. He was nervous, hands shoved in his pockets as he waited for someone to come out of the classroom. Eventually the door opened, and students streamed out of it. The guy brightened when he saw Liadan’s other classmate, the one he was now pointing a gun at, step out of the classroom.

“Hey,” he called. She turned to see him and a slight frown fell on her lips.

“Hey,” she tentatively replied, looking around.

“I was wondering if maybe...um.” He took a deep breath. “If you would go to the Halloween party with me?”

The woman sighed and then she laughed. “Freddy.” She said the word almost impatiently. “I-I’m not interested. Thank you for asking. It’s....a nice thought.” She raised part of her mouth, as if attempting to smile but didn’t have the interest, and turned on her heel.

No amount of television shows covering shootings, no amount of books recounting real life instances, could have prepared her for this. Liadan realized she had squeezed her eyes tight at the memory she had received via osmosis. The door was flung open as the flight instinct took over for some of the students.

This can’t happen here.

It was happening so fast but she felt like she was moving in molasses, Madison grabbed her hand and yanked her from behind the table right as a loud pop happened.

I can’t let this happen, she thought absurdly, as if somehow her prior knowledge of his thoughts was something she should feel guilty for. She held her breath, her eyes locked on the boy who had just pulled the trigger and……and just like that, the gun flew from his hands and landed in hers. The bullet went wide, grazing the arm of the woman - Tiffany? - in front of him, and she went down, crying out. Liadan froze, staring down at the gun in her right hand, Madison still pulling painfully on her left arm. The whole room had stopped, their eyes all on her. Abruptly, time resumed. She could hear students sobbing, someone was swearing loudly and aloud blare of the fire alarm. She dropped the gun, the metal hitting the wooden table with a clank. It didn’t go off, thankfully, because of the drop safety most currently produced guns possessed. At the same time, security swept in. She dropped to her knees when Madison finally let her go, though it was more like her body lost its skeleton, going numb, as the whole room turned into mass chaos.