On Soccer

Back in Wisconsin before my parents separated they had me join a kids soccer team. I’d say they ‘made me’ but I enjoyed it for the most part. The only thing that ever caused problems was at the end when we had to go to the other team to congratulate them. We would line up and high five or handshake each member of the team. This of course started to become an issue when I was coming into my powers. For the first few games it was fine, but afterwards I straight up refused to take part in it. My coach and parents scolded me, saying it was bad sportsmanship. Which it was, they were right about that much. I didn’t understand then that something inside me was different, I didn’t know how to explain. But yeah, I don’t think my parents fully understood what I was going through yet though. I would run down that line of kids and each time their hands met mine it was one of either two things: something about how me and my friends were pushovers, or their resentment for me after beating them. At least those thoughts are what stood out to me most at the time. It was honestly hard to keep track of. I usually got a headache from the sheer number of visions from these kids I got in such a short amount of time. For a while, they were able to convince me to go through with it, but after a month or so I’d had it. I told my dad I wanted to quit the team. He and my mom were upset at first but once I explained things and they realized what was happening, they were almost eager to get me out of there it seemed like. Don’t want to have your magic daughter ruining your reputation, no no. Of course they hadn’t realized the bullying had already started, but what can you do? I’m being harsh, but no I understand they were just looking out for me. I was pretty damn good back then though. Just makes me wonder what would’ve happened had I stuck with it.