The smell of death was a familiar scent to me. When most people have gone to weddings most of their life. I went to funerals. Hundreds of them. Death was nothing new for me. I've dealt with it easily. Well as easily as I could. Death is still a shock and causes numbing pain. No matter what.

But today was different. The flowers that filled the room were all velvet red roses. Everything else was pure black. The clothing on the people. The coffin, other than the silver steel bars on the sides of it. The vases, the walls, the floors, the...Everything. But that was the same with most funerals...

The reason this one funeral was different, was because this was my father's funeral.

I never truly knew my dad...He was in and out of my life for most of it, that he was more like a distant uncle after a while. A controlling one at that. He, even though he never stepped up to the plate as a father, would demand respect and obedience. Too bad for him I never gave into what he wanted. I only gave respect to people who deserved it. And he wasn't one of them.

I was the one that took care of Katie. I was the one that comforted my mom when he left her for another woman. I was the one that took up a job at nine years old, when I really should've been in school, to support our family.

He wasn't there to do any of that.

And even through all that anger and resentment...When I heard he killed himself...I felt pain. I felt the numbing pain only a death would cause. Because even if I was angry at my father, I still loved him. I still had memories. I still remembered all the times we practiced hockey, before everything changed.

And because of those memories...I was in agony. He is still controlling and making my life miserable. Even in death.

"You look so grown up." I didn't have to turn around to know whose voice that was. I could see her reflection in the gold framed mirror. It was my mother.

Her usually messy ponytail was replaced by elegant auburn curls. Her usual jeans and tee shirts, was replaced by a form fitting black dress that stopped at the knees. She was wearing heels too. Something she never wore before.

She looked beautiful. All for the long tear streaks down her face. I knew she has been crying for a while now. Even through everything...My mom loved my father. And that wasn't going to change now.

"Thanks...You look pretty for a mom of two." I tried joking with a smile...But my words, and my smile, came out like I had sandpaper in my throat. Scratchy and worn. Just like I was feeling. Worn. Worn out from all the crying and the hurt. Worn from all the resentment I held and all that the man I called my father has done.

And yet...I could still feel pain that he is dead. Unfortunately.

"Thank you, sweetie." She tries to say those words with a smile, but her words and smile come out as scratchy and worn as mine did moments ago. This hit us all hard. This wasn't expected. This was tragedy. And once again...Caused by my father. I still wonder weeks after...Why did he do it?

Was it selfish reasons or was something deeper going on? I guess that question will never be answered...

The next few minutes went by with a tense silence. There was nothing else to say. Nothing left that is light and off the topic at hand. So all that was left was to be silent. Because what else could you talk about? Today wasn't a nice day. My father was dead. This was his funeral. Oh, and he blown his brains out.. Yes...That made small talk impossible.

And the uncomfortable silence was making me antsy. Which is why I started messing around with the raven tie that was neatly hanging off my suit. Every piece I was wearing was in the dreaded color of funerals. The only piece that wasn't that color was my shirt. It was hospital room white. I thought the next time I wore a suit like this, I would be getting married.

But, no. I was going to my father's funeral. At sixteen.

"Here, let me fix that." My mother's voice suddenly was soft as a whisper, as she made her way over to where I was. Her eyes were never on me, but on the mirror in front of me. Only seconds later was she in standing range of me, as she started working on my tie. Straightening it neatly, as if to make sure it was perfect. She always made it perfect though. I guess that is how mothers are. Everything they do is perfect in their children's eyes.

I just stood there, silently and stiff as a board. The only movement I made was with my eyes. They were focused on the mirror, showing my mother and I's reflection. Her facial features were hidden, but mine weren't. I saw the worn look in my own eyes, the pale skin, and dark black rings under my eyes. I could pass for being dead myself.

That sent a shiver through out my spine. Bad time to think about something like that. There was no humor in that thought. Just a dry, broken down thought.

"Done. There, you look perfect." My mom muttered softly, backing away from my personal space. It's not that she was invading it. I guess she just understood I needed to be alone. One thing I developed from my father. Thank god I got my mother's heart.

I don't think my mom could handle another man in the house like my father. I don't think my sister could either...

"Thanks..." I mumbled out, looking anywhere but her eyes. I knew I would fall apart if I did. And I couldn't let that happen. I had to be strong. For my family. For myself. Even if that meant pushing my mother away. I didn't want to do that...But it was the only thing keeping me from breaking down and crying like a baby. I was no baby, I was the man of the house. I had to carry the load.

"Well the funeral is about to start...You can come with me if you want." My mom offered lightly, she had a small smile playing on her lips. I could tell she knew what my answer was going to be. I needed a few minutes. I needed to pull myself together. And I couldn't seem to put all the pieces together right now.

But I could see she didn't want to do this alone. She didn't want to face the truth alone. And she shouldn't have to. She's done everything alone. She shouldn't have to do this, out of everything, alone. I wasn't going to let her either. Today wasn't about me. Today was about helping my mom and sister through this disaster of a mess my father left behind.

"I'll go with you." My voice was thick, and it was cracking. Just like I was cracking at the edges inside. But I took a deep breath, pulled what I could together, and I looped my arm through my mother's. Walking out of the dressing room they have here at the funeral home, and through the long hall to where my family and my father's friends were. Along with my father's body.

The cracks were deepening.

"Mr. Knight was a good man. A good boss. He would always make sure the others and I were well taken care of. I've never met a more kinder man."

"Daniel would do everything he could to make sure everyone in his life was loved and taken care of. He was a good father to his kids, a good husband to his wife, and a loving brother to me and his brother."

"D-Danny was my baby...My youngest son and the ray of sunshine to everyone's life he touched. His smile would light up the room...H-He can't b-be gone!"

That is how it went for the next hour. Lie after lie. It made me sick to think that all these people would spin these lies. In front of my family no less. I just wanted to jump up and yell this was wrong. But I couldn't. It would disrespectful to do that at his funeral. I knew better than that. But it didn't make me any less angry.

"It's okay, sweetie. We know the truth, and that's all that matters." My mother muttered in my ear softly, as she grabbed my hand and squeezed it softly. It made me calmer, slightly, but I was still fuming. But I guess my father didn't want anyone to know his faults. Or the struggle he forced on my mom. He had to perfect.

Terrible to think that at the same man's funeral? I know. I did feel slightly bad for it. But at the same time, I didn't. Twisted. But that is how he made me to be. I didn't have any other feelings for him. I did feel pain for losing my father, sure, but that doesn't mean I felt any less angry about what kind of man he was.

The only thing that was keeping me from becoming a monster like him...Is the girl in the puffy black dress, with her dark brunette hair pulled up tightly in a ponytail. Katie. Her and our mother is what is keeping me sane. So with those two by my side. I don't think I will ever turn into him. At least I hope not...I couldn't live with myself if I did that to them.

So I just nodded, and squeezed her hand lightly. I wasn't going to take what my father did, out on her. Never.

It was at that moment something strange happened though. I felt the memories of my mother run through my mind. And they were memories I didn't even know or remembered. And it wouldn't stop. It was like a quick flash of her life. And I saw it all. Everything.

...And then...It ended. I rapidly blinked my eyes and took in my surroundings. My mind was blank once more and I could see on the clock behind my father's coffin, that it has been more than a few minutes since I last remembered it to be. Everyone was now putting flowers and cards in the coffin with my father. When only moments ago, I was sure, that people were still talking about my father and how good of a man he was. At least I think I was sure...

But what was really sending my nerves into overdrive was, what happened when I squeezed my mom's hand.

What the hell happened? How did I see all of my mother's memories? I know I couldn't have remembered them all...Because honestly, I don't remember her teenager years in the slightest. Or her first kiss. So how that happened...I couldn't put the pieces together.

And now my sister was looking at me strangely as if I just stripped to my underwear. While my mother's eyes held a knowingly look. Which I didn't understand in the slightest. How could she understand? Did she think I fazed out because of my dad? Or did she think it was my anger? I seriously had no clue. And it was making me frustrated. Even more so than before.

"Big brother...?" Katie questioned me, her little voice went soft with concern. As did her doe brown eyes. They were coated thickly with it. But my mother just stood up from her seat and took Katie's hand in her own, whispering something in her ear.

Something I didn't understand, that's for sure. But Katie seemed to. Because she just smiled sadly and stood up too, making her puffy dress flow around her small frame. I still had no idea what was going on. But I figured I've dealt with enough for the day...I didn't want to know. At least right now. Everything was already confusing and horrific enough. I didn't want it to all spill over with more. Story of my life though...

"Let's go home...Kendall, we need to talk privately when we get there." My mom told me and Katie, her voice still shaky and scratchy. But it was to be expected. It was for all of us. At least that is what she keeps telling Katie and I. I don't think it should apply to myself though...I am the man of the house now. I shouldn't be acting like a child. I never did before, why should I start now?

But what made me curious...Was that she wanted to talk to me about something. I could tell it had nothing to do with my dad, that's for sure.

I had a feeling she knew what happened earlier though...Why I saw her memories. But it would have to wait. Till we got home that is.

I just shook my head at my thoughts, and I stood up too. Making my way out of the Funeral home with my family.

I would have to wait and see what my mom has to say.

"Go in your room, Katie. I have to talk to your brother now." My mother ordered Katie, softly but sternly. I could tell this day has taken a long toll on her. She looked like she hasn't slept in ages. And I had feeling she hasn't. At least in this week.

We are currently in the living room of our three bedroom apartment. It was small, sure, but it fit for us. Plus rent was cheap. And we needed cheap. At least for now. My father's funeral took a big chunk out of my mother's and I's paycheck.

Once Katie went into her room and shut her door. My mother motioned me to sit, which I did. I wasn't that stupid to not know my mom was at her breaking point. Because she was, and if I pushed her...I knew it wouldn't end well. It would be a lot of crying and screaming. And I don't think I was ready to deal with that...Yet. I know I will have to, later.

"Okay...Sweetie...This is hard to put in words...But you have a power. A power that has been in my family for generations...It's the power to look into people's memories. It's a rare but powerful power. And it takes teachers to help you control it...Which means, as of tomorrow...You will be transferring to Hidden Heights. A school for the supernatural." My mother's word numbed my body. And made everything clustered...I couldn't think. I couldn't hear. And I couldn't see what was happening around me.

Yes...This has been the story of my life.

But now...My story was getting rewritten.

A/N

Hello everyone! Well this is my new story that I've been working on. It's the reason I haven't wrote anything in the last week. But, now I unveil this story! Which has been very exciting to write. And even more exciting to think up.

But, the inspiration and the knowledge behind this story is from, CorsomeeCorey!

Yes this boy right here, he is what struck the idea for me to write something like this inside my head. Also the knowledge of superpowers is all from his advice. And the pep talks! All from him. :)

So this story is for him. CorsomeeCorey.

...Well, I hope today is amazing day for everyone reading! And I think you sweethearts are golden. So thank you for taking the time out of your day to read this.

Till Next Time. :)