“Please…” Elara gasped, a ragged plea tore from her lips as she twisted on the bed. A single bead of cold sweat traced a path from her temple into her hairline.

“Don’t touch me, please.” She mumbled, “please…” she snapped her eyes open, breathing heavily. She lay still for a moment, blinking slowly trying to adjust her sight to the dim light filtering her window. A dark, shimmering haze hung around her tiny body, distorting the light from the grimy window. She frowned as the haze turned into a dark blue.

“No. No, no, no. This isn’t real. This is a dream. A stress-induced hallucination. I’m still asleep.” She muttered, squeezing her eyes shut and counting to three. When she opened them, the haze was still there, thicker now. It clung to her skin, releasing a sensation like static electricity and raising the fine hairs on her arms.

A whimper escaped her lips as she scrambled backward, tumbling off the mattress and landing hard on the floor.

“Ouch” She groaned as she hit her toe against the wall, a sharp pain shooting through her.

But just like that, it was gone.

The haze vanished, the room immediately brightened up as sunlight streamed from the window.

Elara sat on the cold floor, gasping, her hand pressed to her racing heart. She burst into a shaky, hysterical laugh, tears dropping from her eyes.

“Damn my Imagination. Yes… it’s just my imagination. It must be it. Too much stress or because of what happened yesterday. I’m not going insane.” She mumbled, trying to calm herself.

Pushing herself up, she winced at the pain from her toe. She touched her forehead, expecting a throb from where she had been hit yesterday. But there was… nothing. She looked down at her arms, pulling up the sleeve of her shirt. The glaring purple and yellow marks that should have been there were all gone, leaving her body smooth like that of a baby. She stumbled to the small, cracked mirror above the sink to stare at herself.

The face that stared back was clean and the cut on her forehead had disappeared leaving just a faint tiny line. The bruise on her cheekbone had also vanished.

“What in the hell?“ Her breath hitched. This wasn’t possible. This was… impossible. “How…?” she whispered to her reflection, her voice trembling. The girl in the mirror looked just as confused, just as terrified.

But the memories of yesterday’s night were real, it's still evident in her head. Any time she closes her eyes, she still feels their hands… crawling on her skin. It’s stuck to her head.

At the thought of the lingering memory of those hands etched into her skin, she walked into the tiny, closet-sized bathroom, her movements jerky. She needed a shower. She needed to wash it all away.

She didn’t bother undressing, just sat in the little bowl in her bathroom and turned the single, rusty knob for the showerhead all the way to the left. It felt like Icy needles pricking her skin as cold water poured down and she shuddered, hugging herself.

Well currently, she can’t afford to use hot water so she’s got to make do with this.

“But gosh! It's freezing. How I wish it could just magically turn hot.” She murmured.

She shrieked as the water transformed into a wave of steaming hot water, scraping at her skin like it was about to boil her. Scrambling backward, she slipped on the wet floor and crashed against the tiled wall. Her eyes fixed on the shower stream in utter horror. She fumbled for the knob, her wet fingers slipping, before finally managing to wrench it, shutting the water off.

Silence descended, broken only by her ragged pants and the drip-drip-drip little drops from the showerhead. She slid back into the bowl, sitting in a puddle of now warm water, her soaked clothes clinging to her as she trembled violently.

*****

The university library was silent, rarely scarce, perhaps it was because of the news about Mark and his friends being found almost dead yesterday or the news of some sort of celebrity announcing that they would attend the campus. Neither of them are none of her business. She’s just glad enough that someone was able to find them and rush them to the hospital. That they are alive, she didn’t kill them.

Elara moved through the towering aisles searching for the folklore and mythology section. She sighed at the sight, gently trailing her fingers over leather-bound spines. The words blurred together: Bestiaries, European Myth, Cryptozoology, Arcane Practices and a lot more.

The bathroom experience was enough for her to know she’s not normal. She had no choice but to come here to research about herself.

“If only my parents were still alive” she mumbled, adjusting her mask. To avoid the stares and bullies, she had to get a thrift man’s wear and a man’s wig.

“Where do I even start?” She breathed, “I can apparently heal myself, wake up to be surrounded by haze,”

It’s a desperate, futile search for a category that might contain something about her.

‘It’s never been heard of a person who heals overall and boils water with their minds. Or maybe I just need to check the books under section ‘F’ for Freak?’

She pulls a heavy volume and frowns at the title. ‘The Unseen World: A Study of Psychic Phenomena’. She carries it to a secluded carrel tucked away in the back corner and sinks into the chair, the book thudding on the desk. For a long time, she just stares at the cover, too terrified to open it.

“Did you hear about what happened to Mark and those boys yesterday?” Elara quickly bowed her head as a group of four girls walked in.

“Yeah, the police have been trying to investigate what might have happened. Apparently, they found a female slipper at the crime scene and some blood.” A short brunette replied.

“What? So you’re trying to say a girl might be the culprit?” The third asked

“Who knows?” the brunette shrugged. “They don’t know if the slipper was there before the crime or during it. I just know they’re going to be testing the blood at the scene to get some more hints.”