Start the story with a girl and she’s 13 and she
Start the story with a girl and she’s 13 and she’s walking in the darkness in a dark alley when she sees a group of kids bullying a few other kids and it she hesitates before stepping in when she steps in she uses her powers that she normally doesn’t use to make the trash cans float and her eyes glowed she scared away the bullies but when she tried to help the victims up they pushed her and ran away calling her a freak making the girl feel anger so she ran off.. say the name of dimension and add dialogue.
The flickering streetlight cast long, distorted shadows on the walls of the alleyway, making the air seem thick and oppressive. Thirteen-year-old Elara, her heart pounding a nervous tattoo against her ribs, crept deeper into the darkness. She had seen the flash of movement, heard the taunts and the muffled cries, and her instincts, honed from years of witnessing similar scenes, had told her to intervene.
But a part of her, the part that usually kept her powers tightly hidden, was screaming in protest. “Don’t do it,” it whispered, “It’s not your responsibility. You’ll just make things worse.”
Elara hesitated, her fingers tightening on the worn strap of her backpack. But the cries of the victims, two younger children huddled together, were a raw, painful echo in the air, and she couldn’t ignore them. Taking a deep breath, she stepped out of the shadows.
“Hey!” she called, her voice surprisingly steady. “Leave them alone!”
The bullies, three boys in baggy clothes and sneering grins, turned towards her. “What’s it to you, freak?” one of them sneered, his voice dripping with malice.
Elara’s heart stuttered in her chest. But as their eyes narrowed, a warmth spread through her, a familiar energy that she had spent years trying to suppress. Her eyes, normally a dull brown, glowed with an ethereal green light. The trash cans lining the alley, seemingly of their own accord, began to float, bumping into the bullies with a metallic clang.
The boys yelped in surprise and fear, scrambling away. They vanished into the night, their jeers and threats turning into whimpered apologies.
Elara, her body buzzing with the aftereffects of her power, turned to the two children, relief washing over her. “Are you okay?” she asked, her voice gentler than before.
But the children, their faces pale with fear, looked at her with suspicion.
“You’re weird,” one whispered, stepping back. “A freak.”
The other, without a word, shoved her shoulder and ran away. They both disappeared into the shadows, leaving Elara standing alone, the echoing sound of their retreating footsteps a harsh reminder of their rejection.
Anger, hot and sharp, replaced the relief. They didn’t understand. They couldn’t understand. She was just trying to help.
Elara, her anger simmering beneath the surface, turned and ran away from the alley, back into the shadows, her green eyes glowing in the darkness, the world around her a blurred mess of shadows and swirling emotions.
She ran, not toward home, but deeper into the city, into the anonymity of the night, her heart heavy with the weight of her secret and the bitter taste of rejection. The world, it seemed, was not a place for her, not for a girl with powers she couldn’t control, a girl who was just trying to do the right thing.
