The group gathered in the dimly lit room, the air heavy with exhaustion. Faces pale, eyes half-lidded, shoulders slumped. We all moved like shadows of ourselves, drained, sleep-deprived, energy-less. Silence lingered for a moment before anyone spoke, a fragile truce between us and the chaos outside.
"It… it's just weird," Vanzz muttered, voice hoarse. "How is there… nothing? No news about the crash victims. It's like they… never existed. Their families… shouldn't they be searching for them… I mean, people would've been talking, right?" His hands fidgeted, drumming nervously on the edge of the table.
Joel rubbed at his eyes. "Yeah… it's like… they never existed. Like they got… erased. And that guy who just… left? Like it was a glitch in reality, was he just some crazy guy. Something made him walk away. It wasn't normal."
I sat rigid, heart hammering in my chest, mind spinning. I thought about the old woman. The defenseless, frail woman whose life ended by my hands. "What got into me, why did I do that, I can still hear her scream" …? The memory churned in my stomach like acid. I swallowed hard. It's like something got over me, you…. Guys know me i would have never done that…. It must be a bad dream right, right ???" Vanzz and James nodded nervously trying to comfort me, Joel stared in silence.
"And… the container," Vanzz continued, almost whispering. "The… thing… that… thing. It's ridiculous. Totally insane. Nothing makes sense anymore. Like… like we're dreaming… not living in reality" He trailed off, staring at the cracked floor.
Joel's mind whirled, Dream? No. It's all real. I touched her. I… killed her. It was all too real…. I can still feel the sensation of strangling her… I still feel and …. Visualize how she slowly lost her breath.
I was in a state of delirium, and… and the boy too… why did he just walk downstairs and ignore us… it's like we were a ghost at that moment… thank God they thought the granny died of natural causes.. I just hope the best for the boy.
James' voice broke through the spiraling thoughts. "Maybe… we just… I don't know… get some drinks. Get hammered. Forget it, at least for a while."
Vanzz grinned weakly. "Yeah… yeah… let's do that."
Joel looked at us eyes wide open "Guys….. we are forgetting something…. " he swallowed
I look at him confused, "forgetting what?" y
Joel replied with a nervous look, "How did we even survive the crash ? The other car it was completely battered, that car … it was definitely larger with a better tough build, yet our car sustained significantly less damage… isn't that out of logic and psycvvhics… the back of the car should have been blown apart and Vanzz who was in the back should have been heavily injured or worse, and logically we would have most likely ricochet from the impact and fall off from the cliff, yet.. yet we survived with minimum damage relative to the other car…. This doesn't make sense, not one bit."
We all stared at each other in silence dumbfounded for a moment, I spoke up "Reality is inconsistent, it doesn't appear to be as it seems, maybe we are meant for something more in this world, could it be God?"
James smiles nervously "well let's leave this intellectual conversation for some other day, we don't know how you guys survived but you did and I think that's enough reason to go for a drink"
Vanzz replied "whatever that was we are still breathing, maybe it was God maybe it was just luck maybe none of this is real who knows, but I agree with james we should drink and forget, it's all in the past now"
And so we did. That night, the haze of alcohol dulled the edges of our terror. Laughter cracked through the exhaustion, clumsy and brittle, like it might shatter any moment. But it didn't last. The next day, and the next, we kept chasing that escape, substance after substance, numbing ourselves, feeding a growing addiction that bit deeper with every swallow, every hit. Relief came in short bursts, leaving behind a gnawing emptiness, a thirst for more, a dependence we couldn't stop.
Even as we leaned on each other, drank, and laughed through the fog, the questions remained, unyielding, pressing, impossible. The crash victims, the weird man, the container… the scream of the granny, the impossibility of surviving the crash without a scratch, all of it gnawed at the edges of our minds, threading our waking hours with dread. No amount of alcohol, no high, no escape could erase it. Reality had splintered, and we were left grasping at fragments.
Weeks passed, we were now back at school like regular kids.
I watched Thea from across the room. Her hair shimmered in the sunlight through the window, her laugh echoing lightly. My chest tightened. Why did I ever think she'd like me? She never liked me, she only loves the attention. Why always me, why do I always have to bear the brunt of everything, God? You made me a killer! If I'd been like those popular kids, none of this would have happened… none of it.
My mind flicked back to the boy downstairs during the robbery. Why did he just… walk away? Did he not see us? Now that I think about it I did pray for that to happen, and I felt a sensation the same sensation that I feel after convincing James to comply, was it that container… everything became more weird after that thing …. Did it give me power?
I tried to focus on something mundane. But my mind spiraled. I wanted to test something, so I turned to a classmate nearby. "Dude, go buy me the most expensive thing in the canteen."
My classmate blinked, irritation creeping in. "What? Why would I?"
I waved it off, trying to act casual. "Ah, never mind."
My classmate scowled and walked away.
My thoughts raced. Why doesn't it work when I consciously try it? Maybe I need more focus. More… intent. I stared, voice low and commanding: "Listen… to me… dude… you need to do what I say. Go… buy… me… the… most… expensive… thing… in… the… canteen… with… your… money."
My classmate's face twisted with anger. "Are you crazy? You want me to punch you?"
I forced a laugh, masking his tension. "Ahaha… just kidding, chill." Ahhh, this is so embarrassing. Now he probably thinks I'm full-blown crazy. I hope he just forgets about it.
(After break, in classroom)
Me: "Sorry about the prank before, sleep-deprived, so… you know."
Classmate: "What prank?"
Me: "You know… I told you to buy the most expensive snacks from the canteen."
Classmate: "Eh? I don't remember."
What the hell? He just forgot… it was just thirty minutes ago. This can't be a coincidence, maybe I really do have powers. Could it be real? But how? Memory manipulation? Influence? Some kind of… telepathy? No, memory alteration seems most likely.
Later, I found myself near Thea. Heart hammering, mind ablaze with intent. Remember how I've always been there for you, we were super close. Remember how much you… like me.
"Hey, Thea," I said, looking her dead in the eyes. "How are you doing?"
Her face brightened immediately. "Ohhh, Ducce! I've been waiting to talk to you all this time! I missed you so much!" She pulled me into a tight hug.
I froze, disbelief washing over me. Oh my God… it actually works… I'm hugging Thea, the most beautiful girl in the school. She smells… amazing. My face flushed, words faltering.
"I… I've been good… I missed… you too," I managed to say.
A surge of euphoria coursed through me, a feeling so intense it made my head spin. That night, i couldn't sleep. Every thought, every dream, revolved around her: the warmth of her hug, the softness of her voice, the way the world seemed to pause whenever she looked at me.
The next morning, I entered school brimming with anticipation. I caught sight of Thea and beamed, "Hey, Thea!"
She paused, her expression uncertain, then gave a polite, cautious smile. "Hey…"
I froze, confusion gnawing at me. Wait… what? I thought it worked. Why is she acting like this? Did it only partially work? Or did it only last for a day … ohh yeah she must be just nervous…I will get her later… my mind raced trying to reconcile the impossible: a power I didn't fully understand, yet now undeniable.
My thoughts swirled. If I can control memories… influence thoughts…even if just for a moment, what else is possible? Could I… could I make her love me? But how does it work exactly? Do I have to focus harder? Speak the words? Think the thoughts?
I shook my head, trying to calm myself, yet excitement and terror mixed in equal measure. I have a power now… a really useful one. But with this… everything changes. Nothing will ever be the same.
"Yo, Thea, can we hang out later?" I asked, trying to sound casual.
Thea blinked, confused. "Ehh? Where did that come from? You know I have a boyfriend, right?"
I froze, panic gnawing at me. Shit… what happened now? Is she angry? Embarrassed? Does the memory alteration really last only for a while? But the guy I pranked earlier still doesn't remember a thing… Maybe present-moment memories are easier to manipulate than older ones… Either way I will make her Love me… I just need to get to know my powers better.
Over the course of the week, I dedicated myself to understanding my power. I tested it on classmates, strangers, even random strangers in the street. What I discovered was meticulous and terrifying: short-term memories could be erased or altered almost perfectly, but long-term memories resisted, often resurfacing unpredictably. The fresher the memory, the easier it was to manipulate; older memories became unstable, partially overwritten, or distorted, how long it lasts depends on the psychology of the person and the weight of the memory, erasing memory was easier than planting new memories or distorting pre-existing ones, fresher memories were always easier to manipulate.
I also learned there were consequences. Overusing the power caused mental strain, headaches, dizziness, even vivid hallucinations. Physical fatigue followed, as though my body was draining energy to fuel the mental manipulation. Worst of all, reality itself sometimes warped for me: I couldn't always separate what was altered in others' minds from what I remembered as truth. The moral implications pressed on me like chains.
Meanwhile, the rest of the friend group began noticing strange changes in ourselves. One by one, each realized we had a power.
Vanzz discovered an uncanny instinct for decision-making: when faced with danger or uncertainty, he could almost predict the safest course. It didn't always reveal outcomes but allowed him to avoid disaster with unnerving precision, but it wasn't always reliable at times the instincts pointed towards two different options.
James realized luck seemed to bend around him. Small flips of chance, like tossing a coin or choosing a line at the store, almost always favored him, but not consistently. It was subtle, but powerful if used strategically.
Joel found he could influence emotions. Not control people, but nudge them, amplify or diminish feelings that already existed: anger, fear, desire. Amplifying emotions was easier to do. It was chaotic and unpredictable, but dangerous in the right hands.
The following week, we met at our usual hangout after months apart. The air between us was tense, each silently aware of the new reality.
Joel leaned in, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Follow me, I'll show you something."
The rest of us exchanged glances, shrugged, and followed him into a small restaurant. We sat in a booth with a clear view of a couple in the corner, quietly arguing.
Joel focused on the girl. Watch this.
Suddenly, her annoyance spiked. Words sharpened, voice rising. Her gestures became abrupt, violent. Before anyone could react, she slammed the man's drink onto his lap. "You're pathetic!" she screamed, storming toward the door.
Joel laughed, almost hysterically. "You saw that? I just turned a small argument into World War III!"
Vanzz shook his head. "No way… that was you? It happened too fast to be natural, and that was not cool"
Joel leaned back smugly. "I don't make them do anything. I just amplify what's already there. That was pure potential energy, she was annoyed, I just cranked it. It's much harder to create a spark than to turn it into a blazing wildfire."
I narrowed my eyes, watching the girl intensely. Concentrating, I whispered under my breath. A few seconds later, she stopped mid-step, confusion written across her face, then returned to the man she had been arguing with, hugging him like nothing had happened. "see that… I fixed it".
James exhaled, impressed. "Holy shit… you guys are messing with minds. This is insane."
I shrugged, almost giddy. "I can't force anyone. I can only erase or distort short-term memories, effectively. Planting memories is much harder if it's not logically consistent with their psychology. Long-term memory distortion or planting is like scratching over wet paint. Mess with it too hard, and it peels back. Worse, it's exhausting, all i did was make her aware of how out of proportion and cruel her actions were."
Joel smirked. "Still terrifying. You can turn a whole room upside down in seconds."
James leaned back, flipping a coin midair. "Mine's subtle, but it's real. See this?" The coin landed exactly as he predicted. "Not perfect control, but it bends chance toward me. Three times in a row, same outcome. It doesn't make the impossible happen, just nudges little probabilities in my favor."
My eyes widened. "That's… absurdly useful. Casino tables, stock trades, nudging probabilities just to favor you a little can change your entire life for good"
Vanzz stayed quiet for a moment, hands clasped on the table. "Mine's instinctual. Sometimes I feel a pull. Like my gut knows which choice keeps me alive. But it only kicks in during real danger… it's harder to consciously activate it and sometimes it splits two paths tugging at once. I have to trust one. Fail, and… well, failure can be fatal."
I leaned back, impressed. "That's pretty cool, One decision, one moment, can change everything. Literally everything."
Joel looked unimpressed but remained silent and James nodded in agreement with Ducce's words.
The week passed with each of us testing limits. I experimented meticulously: whispering instructions, forcing classmates to forget small details, noting how memory faded, sometimes rebounding. I made mistakes, misremembered facts, creating small social conflicts which were counter intuitive, but each taught me the nuances: timing, focus, mental energy, and the psychological toll.
Joel experimented socially, subtly inciting small reactions and seeing the ripple effect. Vanzz learned to trust his instincts, feeling the invisible tug before near-misses or note worthy decision making moments. James tested probabilities in controlled scenarios, small bets, dice rolls, and outcomes consistently bending toward him.
By the end of the week, we all understood: powers came with limits and consequences. The moral weight of using them pressed constantly, and mistakes could be catastrophic. Yet, we couldn't ignore the intoxicating sense of control, the edge it gave them in a world that had often treated them as powerless.
We were blinded by the need for influence, power, control, especially Joel and me. It was temptation, the ability to bend reality, manipulate affection, rewrite short moments of existence itself.
That night, I was walking home, mind racing with thoughts of Thea, when a sharp blow struck me from behind. I stumbled, hit the pavement hard, the world spinning around me.
"Messing with my girl, huh?" a rough voice demanded.
I groaned, trying to lift my head. "W-what?"
Thea's boyfriend loomed over me, eyes blazing. "My girl, Thea… she told me you were harassing her."
I shook my head, dazed. "No… that's not… true, what are you on about?"
The boy's fists slammed down repeatedly on my face. "Didn't you forcefully hug her? Try to touch her?"
"No!" I shouted, desperation rising. "She, she hugged me!" I tried to use my power, but my mind was fractured from the blows; the intense emotion radiating from the boy made my ability fail.
The beating continued until the world went black.
When I woke up, I was sprawled on the street, aching in every bone. I limped home, fury and shame burning me from the inside.
"OHH MY GOD, DEAR! WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?" my mother cried, rushing to my side.
"It's nothing, mom… I just fell," I muttered, though the lie tasted bitter in my mouth.
My mother carefully tended my wounds, wrapping my scraped arms and patching my bruised face. She saw the despair in my eyes, the heavy weight of my mind.
I collapsed in tears. "Why always me, ma? WHY? Why can't I just… be happy? Why can't things ever go my way?"
My mother hugged me close, her voice trembling. "Shhhh… my little boy… life isn't fair, but I'll always be here. Do your best, and it'll be alright."
I cried myself to sleep that night, mind spinning. I realized someone must have seen me and Thea hugging, and Thea when confronted must have twisted it, telling her boyfriend Ronnie that I was harassing her. Whether it was Thea's confusion or disgust, or a simple misunderstanding, it didn't matter. What mattered was the sting of betrayal and the taste of helplessness.
For the next week, I didn't go to school. I focused on strengthening myself, both physically and mentally. I pushed my body to the limit at the gym, meditated, ran in freezing mornings, took cold showers, deliberately put myself into humiliating situations to numb my emotions. Every repetition, every pang of pain, sharpened me, honed my control. I realized the effectiveness of my power depended on my own mental clarity and focus: stronger mind, stronger effect.
And one thing was certain: I never forgave. I understood Karma was meaningless. I set my sights on retribution for every insult, every humiliation.
(Next week, at school)
My power had grown. Now, I could influence short-term memory without direct eye contact, as long as my target was nearby and not mentally dominant.
I noticed Thea chatting with a friend. Waiting for an opening, and there it was Thea was complementing her not so good looking friend out of kindness, I concentrated, projecting a flash of Thea's sarcastic mockery into her friend's mind, her smile twisting, her tone sharp. The friend froze, sadness washing over her. Thea blinked, confused. "What's wrong?" she asked, but the confusion only made the friend's perception worse; she interpreted it as falsity, deception, insincerity.
When the teacher called on Thea, I acted again. Her mind blanked; she forgot the question entirely.
"Sorry, sir, can you repeat that?" she asked timidly.
The teacher's voice rose slightly. "Alright, listen carefully."
I repeated the manipulation; Thea's mind reset, and she genuinely believed she hadn't heard anything.
"Pardon me?"
"If you don't know the answer, just say so!" the teacher snapped.
"No, sir! I really didn't hear it!" The class erupted in laughter, Thea flushed crimson.
Finally, after a last attempt to repeat the question, the teacher barked, "Sit down, now!"
I nudged her mind again, twisting the words: "Sit down, slut." Thea froze, tears streaming down her face as whispers spread around the room. Shock and confusion rippled through the students, but I had already scanned the group and seen the friend who had been offended earlier. I did my manipulation, her thoughts hardened: "She's faking, seeking attention, manipulating us." I amplified this perception on others who weren't on good terms with her.
The friend believed it completely, starting to gossip, speaking with venom about Thea. Overwhelmed by the perception of betrayal and judgment, Thea left school early, humiliated, broken by the manipulation she couldn't even comprehend.
I observed silently, a cold satisfaction in my chest, though the shadows of guilt tugged faintly at my mind. Power had a cost. But in that moment, I felt invincible.