There’s an electroaliphatic discharge periodically released from my inner psyche that warps the intergalactic proton standard and selectively breaks down the god enzymes. People assume it’s on purpose; that I’m a reality bender or an esper or something. In reality, I don’t get to decide anything it does. My presence just sets off car alarms and makes squirrels go color blind. They don’t have a word for people like me. I’ve seen witches get burned for their crimes, but it’s fine, I’m not like them anyways. One day they’ll fix this, as soon as the medicine world unveils a new phychogranular procedure to remove the half gram of accelerated gallium in my parietal lobe that causes it. That research suggests causes it. Until then I’m gonna try to set off Ms. Jenkins car alarm when she’s leaving for work on purpose because I did it not on purpose once and then she made a fit to the PTA about how my radio-kinetic hootenanny needs to be regulated just like how her kid isn’t allowed to eat people’s memories when they lose at crossball anymore. Like that’s even close to the same thing. So now when I go to school I have to wear this double-copper-alloy helmet that doesn’t even stop the electroaliphatic waves. And her jerkass kid now has the gall to call me tinhead, She doesn’t want “fairness” or “regulation” she has some petty vengeance that I need to suffer more than her kid does. I hope one of my stray mind signals turns his organs into smooth pasta like I did to that hawkfly last week.