The Girl who Popped Heads, Part 1

Once upon a time in this world we live in was a sweet, 7 year old girl. I would tell you her name if I knew it, but the fact is that no one on this Earth will ever remember her name. She was struck from history books, much in the same way the Egyptians tried to hide away those pharaohs who weren’t quite god-like and the Nazis for anyone who was not blonde and boring. Only in this instance, it was not one society but the entire world that blasted her name from its records. All that remains is the knowledge of what she was.

As the title of this tale has given away, this was a girl who popped heads. She was not overly strong or distinctly remarkable. She was an everyday, average, run-of-the-mill sort of child. She liked to play with her friends when the weather was nice, and when the weather was foul she took up a book. She would become spoiled with too many gifts but appreciative if she received something genuine and special. At her age she had a distaste for boys simply because she thought them silly, and her trust of girls her age was limited to the amount of secrets they each shared with one another. She was, as I said, a completely unremarkable child.

Which is why, when the heads started popping, no one was quite ready to handle it.

You see, there is an ability to control one’s environment with one’s mind called “telekinesis.” You have probably seen it in a film or read about it in a superhero book or mystery novel. Quite simply, a “telekinetic,” as they are called, simply thinks firmly and concentrates on what they want to happen, and their remarkable gifted mind tugs at the strings of creation to make it so. This can manifest in any number of ways, from the lifting of books, pushing someone, or squishing your brother’s birthday cake flat after he’s stuck his tongue out at you. It can take on numerous other forms besides head popping.

If only our little girl had known, we might remember her name today.

As it were, she had no knowledge of what telekinesis was, let alone you could squish cakes with it. Her devastating powers had never revealed themselves to her before. They had been resting in the back of her mind, waiting for a strong enough command to come rushing to her aid.

And so it was, one regular day in her elementary school, she got into an unremarkable spat with one of her schoolmates, one of those meaningless arguments about whose seat was whose and who took whose pencils. It would have been one of those things her mother would have rolled her eyes at and would have set her father frowning. A passing teacher had set to frowning, and he stomped over to the girls to shush them into submission.

Our sweet girl was livid as a 7 year old might be. Who was this teacher with his bad teeth and ugly frown to tell her that her precise seating arrangement did not matter in the grand scheme of things?!? In her anger, she placed her thumb and index finger right in front of her eye, and mimed popping the head of that teacher to her satisfaction.

As you have suspected, it was that moment that her latent telekinesis chose to act, with maximum effect. The teacher’s skull imploded, sending shattered chunks of bone flying down the hallway, his teeth spitting up out of the soft tube of his throat.

The children screamed. The adults screamed, too, and shuffled the screamers out to an early recess. And our little girl stood stock still, looking at her fingers, wondering what she’d done.

End Part 1