Disclaimer: I don't own the Marvel Universe. I own the writing and my characters only.

The fact that my teeth are chattering alerts me that I'm hallucinating.

Again.

I'm probably alone in my house right now. Mom and Dad probably went off to work. Not that I mind.

No, I don't mind that now because I am quite desperately trying to convince myself that the cloaked figures approaching me are illusions.

You'd think that considering how they have reptilian claws would alert me to the fact that I'm hallucinating.

Uh, aliens tried to take over the world a few summers ago. I'm not surprised anymore.

There's nothing in the room to help me. At all. The walls are white, and look like complete slabs of stone. Not a single break or fracture. I couldn't move it if I tried. Of course, besides the hooded things there are no objects in the room, and I don't want to get close.

I back myself into my not-actually-real corner and try to wait it out.

This is a lot easier said than done because the second I blink, they're at my throat. One is millimeters away from my jugular. I'm terrified-and rightly so. I can feel their cold breath on my skin, hear their sinister hisses, smell the stench of rotten eggs and burnt meat that comes from their mouths.

I can't help but think about the wonders a toothbrush would do them.

As much as I try not to, I find myself forced to blink again, but this time I only hear a snap.

My eyes fly open. Hallucination over. Where am I? I take in my surroundings-I've managed to leave my nice, cozy bedroom, travel up the stairs, and press on to the balcony, where I'm leaning-back turned-precariously over the edge.

It takes a second for this to sink in, but now I'm scrambling back into the house, back into my room, onto my bed. I reach frantically for this old stuffed tiger I've had for years-Mr. Grr as I've called him since I was two.

Yes, it's sad that I still need a security blanket-er, tiger-at 17. But can you blame me? The hallucinations have happened as long as I can remember. I need something to help me calm down.

It's hard to calm down right now though, because I've never ended up on the balcony. I'm always in a safe place, no matter when or where the hallucinations happen.

Or at least, until now.

After a good hour of meditation, I decide to check my phone. I've got a good share of texts from my friends at school wondering 'where r u', 'u feeling ok', and 'r u ready for nxt wk's test'. I don't bother replying. They likely know the answer. They know about the hallucinations-although they, along with the rest of the school, believe them to be weird seizures. They know I skip school sometimes because of them.

What they don't know is what I do at home besides hallucinating.

Most of the time, I'm practicing improving my abilities.

Not abilities like singing or art, though I'm pretty good at both.

I can move things, without needing to touch them. It's a mental thing. Most people would call it telekinesis.

I jokingly call it superpowers, because that's what my parents thought it was when I was little.

The best I've been able to do was when I went to New York City for my summer vacation a few years ago, and the aliens attacked.

I was among the terrified people being corralled into a safe area by police as real superheroes fought the aliens back. I'd gripped my parents' hands tightly, as though I could protect them just by this contact.

Amidst the chaos, I noticed a little boy in the middle of the street, looking very confused and scared, wailing for his mom. He couldn't have been more than four.

Just his luck, an upturned car was skidding straight towards him.

Sometimes, you do things without your brain realising how dangerous it is.

It was one of those moments.

I sprinted to the boy, pushing him into the safety of the crowd as I stared straight at the underbelly of the totaled car, which I'd subconsciously stopped in its place. I motioned it over to the side, and it went flying.

I immediately wished I had left the car there, because I saw a quick flash of a guy flying on one of the alien aircrafts, shooting a burst of energy behind him. It hit a giant freight truck, which began to fly towards me. I fell back on my hands, desperately trying to back away as I heard my parents' hysterical cries as they were held back from grabbing their daughter. I stumbled, fell flat on my back, and saw nothing but white as the truck began to land on me.

And instead shot twenty feet in the air, utterly still.

The panic that came over most of the people there merely registered as a dull murmur to me. I could hear the pumping of blood rushing to my ears. My heart felt as though it had exploded out of my chest. In a daze, I backed away, until I was into the crowd, than slowly let the freight truck fall until it landed on the street with a soft thump.

Immediately I ran back to my parents, who nearly screamed at me for being so reckless.

They also decided that there was no way in hell that I was going back to New York, so we returned home to Chicago the second the government deemed it safe to travel.

Since then, I've only practiced where nobody can see me, because "you never know who could be watching", as my parents put it.

Currently my goal is to figure out how to fly. I've got most of it down. Finding a slab of stone, wood, or anything large enough to hold my feet is a simple task, the more difficult part is combining levitating with moving.

I've managed to get myself 35 feet in the air, no problem. I wonder if thinking about moving like skateboarding will help. I imagine myself zooming down the street, and bam!-I shoot forward. And...also downward. Steeply downward. I manage to pull up, and begin a very maddeningly enjoyable roller coaster ride of a flight. I'm not in the best control, but man, this is amazing. The wind is rippling through my hair, causing it to appear as a fiery bronze halo behind me. My laughter rings out across the area, and I notice some people look for the source. So much for not being noticed. But nobody's seen me, not even this oddly-suited guy seemingly doing nothing.

As I come back to my house, I'm giddy. Quite incredibly so. The remnants of my hallucination are all but gone, having drifted away like a leaf caught in a breeze.

A.N: Hello, readers! Blue-Box-Kid here. Thanks for reading!

This story is a few years after the events of the Avengers (like four years or so). It's told in the POV of my OC, Alicia Singer. It's post phase 2 Marvel movies, except for Age of Ultron (as it hasn't come out yet).

I've got another fic that corresponds to this one, it's called You've Managed to Appeal to My Compassionate Side. It's not quite related (yet), but if you'd like to check it out, I'd really appreciate it. It will give some backstory about some things that I've changed to the MCU, specifically Loki's involvement with the Avengers. If you've found this story because you heard about it from my other fic, hello!

Next chapter will be uploaded June 6th. See you all then!

Reviews are greatly appreciated!