Literary: Ignis Fatuus
Left for her by her grandmother, long ago, was an envelope.
She was told that she would know when she would need to open
it, that something would tell her that she should. The envelope
felt warm in her hands.
Each fingertip glowed a warm orange. Radiating heat as though
her fingers were small candles. She didn't understand what
it meant; it felt so foreign to her yet so right. She was calm during
this strange moment.
Gazing at the sky, she raised her hands as if to reach out to them.
Small balls of light began rising from the tips of her fingers,
racing as fast as they can before dissolving into the air. She
was ecstatic, her mind was racing with what she could do with
these newfound powers.
Abilities come at a price though. Those who she thought were friends,
abandoned her, those around her grew scared of what she was able
to do. She began to keep what made her special a secret. She
began hiding away in her home, the only place where she felt that
she was accepted.
Cathartic for her was the thought of the old envelope. Her fingertips
glowed brighter and brighter as she got near it. She knew that now
was the time for her to open it, she thinks that it might have something
to do with this newfound ability of hers and it might offer her
an explanation.
"You opening this envelope means that you've awakened, and now, you're
looking for answers," the letter read. She nodded in agreement.
"The light is something special, something that’s been passed on from
generation to generation. l hope you wish to continue it.” She continues
reading the contents of the letter and as her eyes trail to the end of it, she
sees, “If you do wish to carry it on, meet me an hour past midnight on the corner of your street the day you opened this letter.”
She looked at the clock beside her bed. 12:34 AM. A blaze of light trailed from the house to the street.
